He kept an eye out for wildlife, searching every shadow of the forest. Where were the babbling birds? Even the falcon wasn't around.
"Focus!" he demanded, rolling his shoulders before pulling back the string again. Each arrow hit the target within a circular inch of the estimated center. That got his attention. Tristan scratched his head and scanned the surroundings for someone who might have done it for him. Maybe the new arrows made all the difference.
His heart hammered, his legs itched to run. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, reminding himself, again, that he had no schedule. No calendar. No place to be. No responsibilities except to practice and learn.
He collected all the arrows without leaving his post. Instead of steering them to himself, he directed them in a circle above the clearing, increasing their speed. One by one, an arrow from the circling flock veered off to hit the target.
Tristan began again, adding additional targets for a greater challenge. Arrows became pinecone shish-kabobs. Why did it seem like he was wasting time? He pried the pinecones off the arrows and headed home.
* * *
At the top of the mountain, Tristan peered through the spyglass. He still couldn't see Gram's log cabin, but Dorian stood hunched over on the rocky beach, towel-drying her thick hair. He kept himself from blinking, wondering if she'd simply vanish when walking past a certain point.
He quickly scanned the trees behind her for the river-stone cottage, remembering the lake had been visible from the back door, then refocused on her when he couldn't find it. She untied the knife from around her leg and looked directly at him.
He dropped behind a boulder, hoping the quick movement didn't draw more attention to his location. He held his breath and found her again, keeping himself hidden, hoping his calculations about the sun's glare off the lens were accurate.
"Whoa…." Three men stood on the beach with her. He redirected the spyglass toward the village, curious about where they'd come from, then retargeted Dorian. "Never seen you guys before." Tristan made a mental note to ask Gram about the island's population. "Maybe Eric?"
Dorian talked to the men while they surrounded her.
A lesson? She's probably still learning stuff.
Tristan relaxed, thrilled by the idea of watching her in action from a distance. One of the men grabbed her from behind, wrapping his huge arms around her. "Doesn't look like Oliver." He couldn't be sure though.
She stomped on his foot and flipped him to the ground in front of her.
"Dang…she's good." She made throwing such a large man look easy! Another attacker came at her from the front, the sun glaring from the side of a blade in his hand. Barefoot, she kicked the object aside, sending it flying into the lake with a lopsided splash. Without stopping her momentum, she switched feet and kicked him in the chest. Backwards! The man fell to the ground.
Tristan stared with his mouth hanging open, barely breathing. His shoulders tightened with nervous excitement. "I wonder if they'd teach me that?"
She circled, completely at ease, keeping an eye on all three men. The third pulled something from his coat and pointed it at her, reminding him of the wand Sabbatini used. "That's not fair." Of course, Oliver had an answer for that kind of complaint.
Dorian collapsed to the ground, her right hand clutching her shoulder, her eyes glaring with a murderous intent. Tristan frowned, guessing the lesson was over. How was she, or he, supposed to fight something so abstract? Strength and speed seemed to be her area of expertise, not invisible magic.
From the forest behind her, a large elk charged at the people. Tristan gasped, leaping to his feet, not caring if someone saw him. Hadn't Gram said something about security? Though, she also said it was taken care of.
It has to be an exercise.
The elk rolled his giant head and tossed the nearest man like a deflated balloon into the grass. Blood glistened on its antlers. Tristan scanned the beach, unable to find the other men. Dorian faced the elk alone.
He ran, half-sliding down the mountain to help her, or to at least find out what was going on. The elk lowered its head again, taking aim.
"Is she crazy?"
Even I wouldn't take on a mad elk.
She put her right arm in the air and the elk swung its head. "DORIAN!" She must be in total shock to just stand there. His pace faltered as she landed on its back—as if riding an elk like a horse was an everyday activity. They trotted off together.
By the time he reached the village side of the lake, he figured she'd probably staged the whole thing. After all, she knew he was watching. Didn't she? But the man lying in the grass with his intestines yanked out was definitely real.
Tristan backed away, his gut convulsing bile up his throat. He searched for the other men while collecting Dorian's things, tensing his stomach to keep from hurling.
The elk grazed peacefully near the front porch of the cabin. Tristan side-stepped the massive beast, making every effort to get around without startling it, and ran up the front steps.
"Gram? Dorian?" He pounded on the wooden frame of the screen door. "Hello?"
Where was everyone? He followed a footpath to the back door of the river-stone cottage.
"Gram?" Tristan called, so as not to barge in unannounced. He opened the door and stuck his head in, seeing Gram in her rocking chair. "Is everything okay?"
"We were just talking about that," Oliver answered, his bulk threatening to crush the little sink he was leaning against. "What did you see?"
Tristan stepped into the room and glanced around nervously. Oliver and two strangers filled the space, standing with their arms crossed, waiting for him to speak. Sweat dripped down his spine, no words came.
"Tristan, you've met Oliver. This is Eric and Alice," said Gram.
"Is she all right?" Tristan blurted, shivering as the enormity of what happened settled in.
"Tell us what you saw," said Oliver, towering over everyone. Couldn't they all go outside or something?
"Uh-" Tristan gulped. "But—"
"She's showering. If you would just tell us what you saw?"
"I saw the whole thing…I think." He held up the spyglass, blushing at the thought of spying on Dorian. He glanced at Gram. "From the top of the mountain. I was looking for the cabin because—"
"Whatever," Oliver said, clearly impatient with the whole situation. "Just tell us what you saw."
"One minute she was standing by herself, the next, three guys were surrounding her." Tristan told them everything he could remember. When he got to the part about the elk, Oliver jerked his head toward the door and Eric left to check the body.
"She was doing so great, I really didn't think she was in any kind of danger until one of them pointed a stick at her. Like Sabbatini's wand," he directed at Gram. "I think it got her, she held her arm like it hurt. That's when the big elk charged in. I thought she…but then she just…." Tristan shook his head, still stunned.
The silence in the room racked chills through his body. What a fool he'd been to just stand there and watch. "I thought it was training."
Eric returned, breaking the awkward silence. "The guy at the lake…dead. Got him outside."
Oliver stepped away from the sink so Eric could scrub the blood from his hands. "Know who he is?"
Eric shrugged and shook his head.
Tristan took a deep breath, coming to terms with his mistake. If anything had happened to Dorian while he sat and watched, enthralled by the way she could move, he'd never forgive himself. He glanced at Gram. "I'm really sorry."
"We should have a little time before they come back," Oliver announced. "The Makai have offered their help and I'll be accepting."
Eric froze at the sink. "Are you sure that's wise?"
"Security on the island will be tighter than ever," Oliver added. "Just until this mess with Sabbatini is settled."
Tristan stared at his fidgeting hands, wanting to ask who the Makai were and what increased security meant. "Was it because of my training? The security…." He bit his lip and glanced again at Gram.
"You know how I am," Gram said, waving the whole thing off as Oliver glared. "I didn't tell him anything important, if that's what you're worried about."
Oliver shook his head and faced Tristan. "It's not your fault. Your training is important and the security of this island is what it is." He uncrossed his arms and spoke to Eric and Alice. "It's simply time to learn how to make it better if we can't rely on the cave. We need to make alterations and the Makai can teach us how. Alpheus warned me weeks ago that things needed improving." Oliver paused, pursing his lips. "At the time, I told him to mind his own damn business."
"But Flynn says the Makai—" Alice shut her mouth and started over. "Why would they be interested in our security to begin with?"
"You can't bring in the Makai without a public vote," Eric added. "Involving the Makai will make it look like we support them, and that will cause more trouble. The entire island has the right to decide."
"And what's wrong with supporting them?" Gram asked. "I support the Makai."
"The Makai have experience with Sabbatini," Oliver continued. "Once we get this potion thing worked out, we won't need their assistance. And let's face it, our security can only benefit from their input." Oliver looked at Gram, then the rest. "We just killed one of Sabbatini's men—he's not going to ignore that. I would expect no less than equal retaliation."
"He tried to kidnap one of ours!" Alice said. "Did Sabbatini think we'd let her go so easily?"
"Eric?"
"I don't think the Makai should be involved; Sabbatini would destroy the island if he thought they were here."
Feeling like an eavesdropper in a top-secret meeting, Tristan had been waiting for a good time to interrupt. "Should I be leaving?"
"No," Gram said as Oliver nodded his permission. "He has the right to hear this. Besides, he can keep watch from the other side."
"He doesn't belong here," Alice added. "He shouldn't be involved with any of this."
"I completely agree," Eric added. "He's too...young."
"We could use him, Oliver," Gram said.
"I don't like that idea, either. He's dangerous." Oliver's gruff brow creased even more. "I'd never ask a child to fight a man's battle. Especially when he doesn't know what the hell's going on."
Dorian stepped through the back door, squeezing in beside Tristan. "Who and what?"
Tristan inched his way behind her to get closer to the door, pausing at the scent of strawberry and coconut. Oliver gripped her shoulders and spun her around for inspection. "Tristan said you were hit."
"Get off! I'm fine." She shot Tristan a dirty look. "It was nothing. I'm completely fine!"
"Well, I don't like it," Oliver said, letting her go. "You're to stay with Eric at all times, until we work out better security."
"I can take care of myself and I don't need a babysitter."
Why wouldn't Oliver want to be the one protecting her? He wished more than anything that he could do it himself, if only he had the skills.
"It won't be for long, and we know Sabbatini won't be civilized after what happened today."
"So, Sabbatini's still mad that his potion stuff didn't work?" Tristan finally asked.
"Most likely." Gram sighed.
"What could be so bad that he'd do all this?"
"Lazaro Sabbatini can't take credit for his mistakes." Dorian plopped down on a wooden chest, covering her legs with a robe as she crossed them. "He has to blame someone else."
"Isn't this a bit extreme, though?"
"Failure the first time is one thing," Gram said. "Then there was the second time. By the third, everything they took would have been contaminated by smoke."
"Smoke
he
caused," Dorian said. "It's still his fault."
"Perhaps if we knew exactly what he was trying to make, we could make it for him and put an end to this madness. Then we could just explain he's not welcome anymore," Gram suggested with a curt nod. "There are plenty of other suppliers. He doesn't have to use Dorian."
"But if you bring in the Makai," Alice interrupted, "Sabbatini will see it as an act of war! He'll probably wipe out the whole island."
"Do you think killing one of theirs
won't
be seen as an act of war?" Oliver snapped back.
"And they made the first move by going after Dorian," Eric added.
"But the Makai are just as powerful as Sabbatini's men," Alice continued. "There's likely to be a bloody war that will have nothing to do with us. Our entire island will be a raging battlefield."
"Hard to have a raging battlefield when there are so few of us here to fight." Gram stood from her rocking chair and adjusted her shawl, looking stern. "Alpheus is an honorable man. He runs a fine organization and I would be proud to join him if I weren't so damned old."
"It's not Alpheus I have issues with," Oliver said. "It's Donovan."
Gram turned to Dorian. "Why don't you go to bed, dear? Get some rest."