Chapter 63: The Line of Sight...
The arrow came swift and silent, so silent that by the time anyone realized it had been loosed, it was already buried deep in Keiser’s shoulder.
The impact forced him back a step, almost toppling him, his boots scraping against the stone street. He bit down a curse, trying to keep his balance, his vision swimming for a moment.
The pain was sharp, immediate, burning through flesh and muscle with a ferocity that made his jaw clench. Yet what struck him harder than the wound itself was the recognition.
He knew this shot.
He knew the hand that could send an arrow flying so cleanly in the dead of night.
"Muzio!" Lenko’s voice cut through the night in a low hiss.
He was already moving, seizing Tyron by the arm, dragging him close, and pulling the boy’s hood over his head in one quick motion. His eyes darted wildly through the shadows, searching for the hidden archer.
Keiser ground his teeth, forcing words through the sting in his shoulder. "Fuck, hide!" he barked, trying to keep his voice low but urgent.
He turned his head, his one good eye sweeping across the rooftops and the looming silhouette of the church. The temple’s tower rose above them, and in one of the high windows, a faint glint caught the moonlight.
Steel, or perhaps the reflection of polished wood. It was enough to confirm what he already feared.
’Shit,’ he thought, pulse quickening. Another one was coming. He could feel it in the silence.
Before he could act, a sharp tug yanked him backward by the cloak. Keiser stumbled, half-spun, and found himself dragged into the narrow cover of an alley. Tyron, Jim and Jill were already huddled there, pressed close to the wall.
The one who had pulled him out of harm’s way---Lenko, was glaring at him, hand still clutching Keiser’s cloak tight.
The timing could not have been closer.
A second arrow hissed through the night, passing the spot he had just been standing in, slicing the air with lethal precision. It whistled past and clattered harmlessly against the cobblestones beyond.
Keiser’s breath came rough through his teeth. Too close. Far too close.
"What was that?" Lenko gasped, his voice breaking the silence as his wide eyes darted toward him.
Keiser only shook his head, his jaw tight. "We can’t stay here. Those arrows aren’t---"
His words cut off as a sharp pulse of pain tore through his shoulder. His gaze dropped to the shaft jutting from his flesh, and his stomach tightened. The arrow wasn’t still. It trembled faintly, as though unseen hands were driving it deeper into him.
’Shit.’
"Get down!" Keiser shouted, his voice raw and urgent.
He threw himself aside just as another arrow hissed through the air.
The shaft struck the wall where he was had been a second before. Stone cracked, chips of brick scattering from the force of the impact. The sound echoed through the alley.
The others flinched back instinctively, some stepping away from the wall, others crouching low, pressing themselves against the damp stones. Their eyes were wide, fixed on the embedded arrow as though it might leap at them next.
"H-how?" Tyron stammered, voice trembling. His gaze flicked from the broken wall to Keiser.
He had seen it. They all had.
The arrow hadn’t flown straight, it had bent, curved unnaturally in the air, adjusting its path as though guided by a will of its own.
It had been aimed directly at Muzio’s back, and for a heartbeat Tyron was sure it would pierce the tenth prince through.
But at the last possible moment, Keiser had dodge, letting the arrow flew past his side to bury itself in the wall.
Tyron’s breath came quick and shallow, his face pale. "That... that wasn’t normal. It, arrows don’t move like that."
Keiser hissed through clenched teeth, one hand clamping down on the arrow shaft jutting from his shoulder. His fingers trembled as he pressed against it, trying to work it free. "Beast-cored weapon..." he spat, his voice a mix of pain and fury.
He pulled, slow at first, then harder, fighting against the way the damn thing seemed to dig deeper into him with every heartbeat.
The arrow wasn’t just lodged, it was alive with the beast core thrumming faintly against his bone as though trying to anchor itself inside his flesh.
"Wait, you mean..." Lenko’s voice cracked, his eyes going wide.
He didn’t need Keiser to finish the thought.
There was only one person he knew who could wield such a bow, one forged from the essence of a beast core that could track prey across walls, shadows, even distance itself from the archer’s line of sight.
His gut twisted.
Keiser gritted his teeth and gave one final wrenching pull. The sound that tore from his throat was half-growl, half-gasp, as the arrow ripped free of skin, bandage, and cloth in one motion.
He staggered, blood immediately running hot and fast down his arm, soaking into his tunic and cloak. Without hesitation, he flung the tainted shaft away from them, sending it skittering across the ground.
The reaction was instant.
Another arrow whistled through the night and curved unnaturally into the alley. It struck the discarded shaft, shattering it on impact before burying itself deep in the cobblestones.
The crack echoed, sharp and final, dust rising where stone splintered.
Jim prayed under his breath and stepped back quickly, while Jill grabbed his arm and pulled him farther away from the danger zone.
Tyron, still pale and wide-eyed, scrambled clumsily from his crouched position, nearly tripping over himself as he tried to stand.
Keiser groaned, clutching at his shoulder, his breath ragged. "Yeah..." He glanced sidelong at Lenko, whose face had gone pale as parchment.
He didn’t need words to confirm what they were both thinking. Nobody could mistake this. Nobody could ever beat her.
The arrows, the precision, the relentless pursuit, it all pointed to one person.
"Of course," Keiser muttered bitterly, forcing a pained smile as the truth settled over them like a weight. His gaze hardened, his good eye narrowing. "She’s here."
Lenko’s stomach dropped. His sister. Olga.
The one no one escaped from in a hunt.