The Assassin Princess (The Legacy Novels Book 1) (22 page)

The truth was that she was drained. She listened to the unicorn beneath her tell all of his life, his capture, their meeting; she listened to the travels of Hero and Raven, the loss of Kane, and their meeting of the
next-girl
. She listened, but did not take part.

She could remember everything.

Her night of artwork, television and bed, had been replaced by a journey of fantasy. From her first encounter with Adam and her escape with Hero, to the night of learning, and the morning of listening. Unicorns were real, and evil had a true and relevant place in the world. A land was at stake, a people she was meant to rule—and all had gone so terribly wrong. She’d murdered innocent people. The poor, poor bride, who fell to her death because of Ami’s greed; the man who’d hidden, only to be killed by her hand. All the Guards who’d protected their people and lands with honour and duty—she could not think on it, but could think of nothing else.

She wasn’t sure if Adam’s power had gone. Held against Hero’s back, she’d watched the hilt of his sword jump up and down on the journey from Legacy, and had once reached out to touch it, but Hero had looked around. Thoughts entered her head of taking all away from them and leaving them with nothing but their dying breaths—and she could still do it, she was sure—but the conflict in her was great. What she’d been through had changed her, and what Talos had done for her was allow her to see it. The pain and abandonment to the evil she’d given weighed on her like nothing she’d ever felt before, yet despite this, she felt more like herself than she’d felt in a long time. She thought that
Dangerous
was inside her somewhere, recovering maybe, or fighting lesser battles. As for herself, she yearned for her bed, some music, a good meal. She yearned for the normal, the everyday, and the mundane. She yearned for her parents.

That’s when the tears had started, and the sobs caught in her chest.

“Stop,” Hero said, stroking Talos’s mane gently. “Please, just for a moment.”

The journeyers came to a halt. In the distance, Ami saw a bank of black trees and felt a shiver. They were near.

Hero turned to her and brought her into his embrace, while Lady Grace also came to her aid. “There, there, dear,” she said, her voice smooth and gentle. She cupped Ami’s chin, her fingers coaxing her face toward her. “It’ll be okay, I’m sure of it.”

“I want my Dad,” she said, and fell into Grace’s arms. She smelt of perfume, polished wood and smoke. “I want to go home.”

“I know, dear, and I’m sure you will soon.”

Hero looked down at Grace. “But, Lady Grace, Legacy?”

“The city is lost to us,” she said. “The land is out of our hands. If we can rebuild, then so be it, but not at the expense of our girl.”

Hero nodded, understanding, and Ami felt a weight lift from her. She looked up at Grace. “I can—I can go home?”

“If we can get you there, we will, but all of us need to enter the Mortrus Lands. I know that much for certain.”

Ami closed her eyes and saw Adam again, on his back and looking scared. A flashback? She didn’t know. She opened them and smiled.

“Let’s go then,” she said.

Lady Grace hugged her tight and she felt a familiarity and warmth in that hug. “My dear, you are truly special. A true princess.”

Releasing her, Grace mounted Florina again, and they continued their trek.

Ami buried herself against Hero once more and watched the sparkle from the river wink as the day began to dwindle. She shivered and closed her eyes, the darkness beyond calling for the blood of the innocent, and the reaping of happiness in greed.

Charlotte watched the
rain dash the window, her own face staring back at her in the reflection of the night. The first sound of thunder above startled her and she drew the curtains, smoothing her hand down the soft fabric. Flickers snuck around the edges like a camera flash. This was the night she’d been waiting for. Her husband had been taken, and all was at last coming full circle. She sat upon the sofa and flicked on the lamp beside her, waiting, listening to the howl of the wind as the storm approached.

*

The first rock had struck his shoulder, and the man who’d thrown it had burned on the spot, but then came the second, and the third, and soon Adam was under constant fire from the gathered.

“I am your lord,” he shouted, but the rabble continued their barrage, hurling rocks and abuse, spitting and yelling. He released the power from his palms, burning, killing, but they’d continued to advance, pushing him backward to the edge of the road where he’d teetered, the sheer drop of the mountain behind him. Regaining his balance he’d turned back to the crowd with fire in his eyes, shooting flames like bullets. They morphed in mid-air and changed into birds of green flame that flew up high, before diving back into the crowd of people, shredding bodies, flesh, and bone. Blood flowed and screams were sounded, yet the missiles continued through the slaughter. Adam felt each hit and raised his hands to protect his face, feeling the mushy pulp beneath his fingers. The birds extinguished and the crowd pushed forward, trampling their own dead.

“No, no, I am your lord, I
own
you!”

“I don’t think they are listening, Son,” his father’s voice called from far away, but where? He couldn’t see him.

“Father, tell them who I am, tell them.”

“Murderer.”

“…destroy our land…”

Voices screamed from the crowd as feet kicked at him, hands clawed at him, and Adam felt himself lifted from the ground.

“No, no, put me down, put me down.”

The years of riots and chaos had served them well as the people of Legacy were used to pleas and begs, and had learned to ignore them. They threw him, bloodied and screaming from the side of the mountain.

The world spun and the sky became the earth; Adam hit sharp rock again and again, all darkness and red. The mountain tore skin from his bones, his clothes shredding, and a blue light moved between dark trees, a high column, a petal lifting in the breeze.

His bones shattered again as he landed.

After a time—and how long a time, Adam wasn’t sure—his vision came back to him, and his body pulled together again. He heard the low moaning of his own voice as his throat was repaired, pain like he’d never felt before shooting through every part of him.

“It’s time,” she said, but not to him.

His father, a ways off but close, said, “Then let’s end this thing.”

“My land, I own all of you—will
kill you
.”

A circle of light was drawn, and the moment it was complete, Adam fell through, screaming as he went.

*

The sky had fallen a deep blue, lilted with yellow and red flecks. Clouds were plough lines in the sky gilded with gold, turning an autumn amber. Hero tried to memorise the sight and capture the moment. He didn’t know when he may see it again, for before him stood a wall of darkness, and at its centre, a shadowed and narrow path which they’d soon enter.

He dismounted, his boots whispering in the long grass. The trees were black and the trunks, as he’d previously observed, butted so close that there was no space to peer through; branches reached high, tangled, dense and chaotic. The path cut through these, a mouth with a long, dark throat that swallowed the day. He could see nothing of what lay beyond. Behind him was the spring of the river that burst violently from the earth, frothing white into the ancient groove of land between the Planrus and Solancra Forests.

Ami dismounted and approached him, while Raven and Grace stayed upon Florina. She looked tired, worn, but not dangerous; he kept alert all the same.

“Hero, can you feel that?” she asked, holding her hands in front of her. “Like a vibration in the air?”

“I can,” he said, “and I feel it beneath me too.”

“Time is running short,” Grace said, dismounting and stroking Florina’s body. “Should we lead the way?”

Florina looked to Talos, and Talos looked to Hero and Ami. All were in agreement. They lined up in pairs to pass through the narrow opening, Grace holding to Florina’s mane, Ami to Hero’s arm, and behind them, Raven’s hand upon Talos.

“If something awful happens,” Raven said, “how will we get out?”

“Something awful has already happened,” Grace said. “This is all we have.” With that, the six of them stepped forward into the Mortrus Lands.

*

The light was gone and the night of a different land illuminated their path, their world a midnight-blue. The trees that had been their path were now scattered far and wide, though they had hardly moved, and looking behind, Ami could no longer see the river, or indeed anything at all; all had faded to a black. She looked to Lady Grace and Florina, but they kept a straight path forward, choosing their steps carefully through the rising mist that stole their ankles. Ami felt chilled as they ventured deeper. Memories of home surfaced, yet seemed so far removed from the darkness that surrounded her that she hardly believed a home ever existed; it’d all been a dream she wished were true, where her bed was warm and her artwork was all she had to worry about.

A sudden scurry from her left stopped her, her reflexes still that of a killer, her hand grabbing for a sword that wasn’t there. Hero placed his hand on hers, a shimmer of purple light running his drawn blade—he’d keep her safe, or die trying—and she believed it, though she wasn’t too keen on his death anymore. She felt her shoulder where Adam had stabbed her. It ached still, though the wound had healed immediately. She rubbed at the spot and continued on.

The trees began to close in on them and Ami saw the branches bend low to snag her dress. She dodged them and was loathed to touch them. They were the colour of pond slime that reminded her of the putrid man she’d murdered, rotting and foul.

“Stop here,” Grace whispered, and the group came to a halt, a silence upon all of them, the whispering of their robes muted as they held their breaths. She had her hand up, her head cocked, listening intently. After a moment had passed, she spoke again. “Are you there?”

A scurry again, movement in branches unseen, and through the mist a breathy voice answered. “I’m here. Come quickly, to your left. Hurry.”

Grace looked back at them and Ami saw the urgency in her face. “Follow me, all of you.” The old woman then took off at a remarkable pace to the left, between two trees that touched. Ami followed Hero, while Raven and the two unicorns took the rear. Hero’s hand was in hers and she felt his power shimmer against her like the pull of a magnet.

The ground sloped down and she found her feet tottering to keep balance as the mist took her legs, nothing seen below her hips. Hero’s grip was firm and the blue-tinted forest was light enough for her to navigate. The trees were above them now, their roots the gnarled surface her boots stomped upon. She could no longer see Lady Grace, but the horns of the unicorns lit, lighting hazy beacons that gave her small comfort.

Somewhere deep within her,
Dangerous
had returned, keeping her fear at bay, battling it for her as the mist rose higher now, touching her chin.

Eventually they turned, Hero guiding her movement, and the land climbed a little, bringing her above the mist and up against a dark wall of trees. Unlike the outside, however, there were gaps between these trunks. The mist had lowered to her ankles and she let go of Hero’s hand as he, Raven and Grace crowded forward. Ami joined them, moving closer, squeezing into a gap between two large trunks that leant against one another.

“Duck down,” a voice whispered, and all assembled ducked low. As they did, a blue light from far away filtered between the branches, reminding Ami of car headlights at night, sweeping round in an arc. The light lingered a moment and then fell, leaving them in the gloom once more. “Phew,” the voice said, “just in time. They’ll be back though.”

Ami pushed up next to Hero, trying to see in the small, dark space.

“Do you know who I am?” Grace asked, her voice slow and gentle.

“Yes,” the voice said, and Ami now saw a small girl, her face mostly in shadow, her dirty hair pushed back behind her ears. “I know who you are.”

“Good,” Grace said. “Can we go inside?”

“I don’t know,” the girl said. “The girl might come back. She’s been here a lot.”

Ami shifted position and could now see Grace clearly squatting, and across from her was the girl. Startled, the girl looked straight at her.

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Grace whispered. “I don’t think she’ll be back just yet.”

The girl stared at Ami, her eyes wide. “You?”

Ami shook her head. “Do I know you?”

Grace held her hand up, barely visible. “I can explain but—”

“Hide!” The girl gasped and scurried further forward, diving into the misty black trees. Grace bent double and scooted through the same space, while Ami was pushed through by Hero, his hands around her waist. In the confusion she turned to tackle him, but instead fell to the ground the other side of the trees. She stood.

“Get down,” the girl’s voice called, but Ami’s attention was taken as she caught sight of the light again and watched it through the black trunks, far off in the deep blue. Bright white columns of luminescence were pulsing, searching. Their progress was silent between the branches—but the power awesome. She felt it across the distance like electricity. It raised the hair on her arms, the back of her neck, and roused the dark power within her that lay dormant. She felt it rise and ready, the need for release great and—

Hero pulled her leg from under her and she fell upon him, just as the light passed over them. It was brief, lingered for a second only, and was then gone.

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Hero whispered, holding tight to Ami. “What are we hiding from?”

“The Sentries,” Grace and the girl said together.

In the darkness everything was close but unseen, and touch was the only constant she could rely on. Hero kept his hand on hers as the group huddled together on the ground. The unicorns, Ami noticed, were standing far off to one side, talking amongst themselves. They seemed to have no fear of the light, yet the racing of her heart suggested that she herself had much to fear. Raven and Hero bookended her as they sat opposite the old woman and the young girl. The mist cooked between them, a shallow broth of a witch’s brew, the only light, a blue that covered everything.

“I’ll tell you, Hero,” Grace said, “I’ll tell you all, but you must listen.” Raven and Hero nodded and Ami followed suit. Grace began, her voice low. “Thousands of years ago, hundreds of thousands, a superior race of
beings
existed in one world. They were not the creators, they were not gods, but only a species that were powerful, more powerful than many others. Humans existed then also, and horses, and birds, but these
beings
had built a civilisation throughout the land and had men worship them as their lords, or kings, or emperors, if you will. They became sure in their power, but made fatal mistakes. Those
beings
were called the Sentries. Catastrophe struck, and the world was fragmented, split, separated from itself. They had inadvertently created the layers of worlds, and in doing so, separated themselves too, splitting each of them into many parts, new but lesser
beings
. The civilisation had fractured beyond repair, and those who had the ability to do so created ways of fleeing across the layers to join with themselves, to hunt down their ancient supremacy. Portals were created, tunnels through the layers, and some of the old fragments of the civilisation, now split across thousands of layers, were concentrated, pulled together and contained. The
beings
focussed all their energies into doing this but were dying fast—never were they meant to live as fragmented beings in a fragmented world. Some merged with other creatures to stave off death, and the ancestors of those trials are the unicorns. Some merged with plant-life instead and survived as pure power, together with the trees and forests of the Mortrus Lands.”

Grace paused.

“How do you know this?” Hero asked.

“Because I never left, at least part of me didn’t. I’m right here.” Grace pointed down to the girl, who’d brought her knees up to her chest. She looked over at the old woman and smiled. The old woman smiled back.

Hero shook his head, but it was Raven that asked. “How is that possible?”

*

Adam shook his head and coughed, his throat still raw, his lungs heaving for air. He’d landed in the dark and could taste dust. It caught in his throat and no matter how much he coughed, the tightness continued.