The Assassin Princess (The Legacy Novels Book 1) (3 page)

“What the hell just happened?” She dropped the sword and stepped back against the tree, looking from the sword to her hand, then to Hero who was now getting to his feet.

“What I expected to happen, hoped to happen,” he croaked. “That you would defend yourself.”

“But I didn’t move!”

“You did,” he said. “In the split second that you knew you were in danger, you grabbed my wrist and released the sword. You swung it and disabled me by grabbing my throat, forcing me to my knees. It was…impressive to watch to say the least.” He smiled and picked up the sword.

“I didn’t. I wouldn’t know how. I didn’t…” She slid down the trunk, her back scratching on the bark, her eyes closing as she realised that she’d done exactly what he’d said she had. She saw each move in her mind, each action, fast and precise.

“You did, you can, you have, and you know. It is you, Princess Ami. You have powers inherited from your father, from your bloodline.” He took Ami’s hand, and pulled her to her feet. “You are the heir of Legacy.”

Noises sounded deep within the forest, but Ami ignored them. They were far away, distant and apart from her.

She thought instead to her childhood and how she’d always been told that she had spirit and imagination. As early as she could remember she’d made up stories based around TV shows and films. She’d act them out like a play, her hands moving spaceships across the sky, her arms flailing at the big explosions. Few people understood her and would say, ‘Oh, Ami’s
exploding
again…’ leaving her to it. But as she’d grown up, she was able to explain that she’d had to play all the parts of the story herself, a one girl theatre production. From then on it was known that Ami was
artistic
. She’d been given paints and pencils, paper and card. Encouraged to draw and paint, Ami had taken to each task with excitement. As she let her imagination go, new worlds, scenes, characters and places had opened up to her; books inspired her, the written word sketched, painted, and drawn.

Dreams began to take shape of distant lands, places she could escape to and explore.

Was it possible that all her dreams were about this place, this land where unicorns roamed in forests? Had her father hidden a whole other life from her, a whole other world where she was a princess and he a lord?

It was quite a story—an adventure—if it were true.

“What does the vampire-man want?”

“He wants you.” Hero sheathed his sword and pulled Ami to her feet.

“Me? Why does he want me? What did I do?”

“It’s not about what you’ve done, but about who you are. He wants you because you are the heir. He wants you destroyed because he is the
son
of Graeme, and in his mind the rightful heir. He’s your half-brother.”

“My what?” Ami’s eyes widened. “My brother? And he wants to kill me?”

“Xavier will explain more,” he said, taking her by the hand. “It is now morning, and we should go to him.”

“This Xavier again…who is this Xavier?”

“That would be I,” a smooth voice said from the darkness, a white unicorn stepping into the firelight. “Hello, Ami, and welcome to the Solancra Forest.”

The clearing seemed
too small, or maybe it was only that the unicorn filled it so well, his white coat giving a luminous light that chased the shadows to the furthest corners, his crystal horn glowing a silver-white. He was the most beautiful creature Ami had ever seen, and in her thrall, she reached out to touch his muzzle.

“It’s good to meet you at last, Princess Ami.”

Ami drew her hand back as if she’d burned it. It spoke. The unicorn just spoke.

“Do not worry,” he said, “my appearance can seem overwhelming to humans. It’s quite normal.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, stepping back into Hero, who held her arm, steadying her.

The unicorn laughed. “You can touch me if you like.” But Ami didn’t dare, for now it seemed too personal a thing. She turned to Hero.

“Is this real?” she whispered.

“Oh yes, it’s very real,” Hero said, “and I think Xavier would like to talk with you alone.”

Ami turned back to the unicorn, who gave a single nod. “Walk with me.”

Hero let go of her arm and Ami stepped forward, humbled in the presence of the unicorn’s light. She wanted to believe—it would be so magical if it was all real. Leaves crunched beneath her feet—very real indeed—and Hero’s touch had been firm, the fire warm, and the darkness cold. She saw an adventure mapping out in front of her: she, a princess, her father a lord; a land, a city, a castle. She turned for one last look at Hero, standing with his back to the fire, and then to the unicorn, whose light paved their way into darkness.

*

Soon they’d left the clearing behind and rejoined the forest, the shadowy trees either side of them reaching into infinite darkness above. Ami caught glimpses of white beyond gnarled branches and heard the soft thudding of hooves—there were others, stalking them in the shadows.

“They are simply curious about you,” the unicorn said without turning. “It’s been many years since we’ve had human company and some of our herd have never met a human at all.”

Ami listened to the deep timbre of his voice, the soft breathing through his nose. She had a million questions, but couldn’t find her voice to ask a single one. Instead, her eyes had strayed to his horn which was lit like a beacon, crowning his head in an aura of light.

“We are walking to the edge of the forest, a place in the morning sun where you can take sustenance and we can talk, but let me start our conversation off by telling you a little of the history of this place.” His voice was soothing and Ami felt herself floating by his side. “I cannot tell you the beginnings of the world any more than you could. I can tell you that this forest and valley, named Solancra, has been home to my kind for as long as anyone can tell. We have lived and bred here, and some of us have died here. I am the eldest of the herd, and so have been named chief, or leader, or any such word that means a similar thing—I am the one that oversees the herd—but it is at the death of a unicorn I should really start.”

Ami walked with him between the trees, turning here and there, following a path unknown to her. In her mind she was seeing pictures, as if half remembered dreams, slipping between his words.

“A group of five humans found their way into Solancra. They were injured, desperate, and starving, but in our wariness we kept our distance. We didn’t know where they’d come from and had never seen such creatures before, but we tracked them and kept a watch on them. Soon they found fruit on the trees and settled in the forest to rest.

“One of our kind was foolish though and thought himself brave. He approached them and greeted them, but did not see the hidden danger.

“Whether through fear or desperation we never knew, but as humans are wont to do, they killed what they didn’t understand. They killed the young unicorn. The herd came running and chased the humans from the forest, but it was too late for our brother. He was dead, his horn taken. Perhaps it was to be a weapon? Perhaps a trophy? Either way, they found instead something that was far more valuable, as they came to realise.”

Ami saw it in her mind, all of it, through hazy pictures of bright yellows and greens. Her heart sank at the image of the dead unicorn, the missing horn; they’d all mourned the loss.

“Yes, we were very sad. But it is here I must talk about our most precious attribute. The horn of a unicorn. It is our pride, our protection, our weapon, our defence, our source of all knowledge and sight. To take a unicorn’s horn is to take his heart, his soul, but more than this, it is to take his power. The horn retains this even when broken.

“As we mourned, we searched with our power, and found the humans to be alive and prospering. They’d found early on that with the stolen horn in hand, things they needed would come to them. They froze the dividing river between Solancra and Planrus, crossing it with ease, and called up new trees from the earth to grow and bear fruit for their journey; water sprang from the earth at the simplest of commands, and all because of the power within the horn, the magic as they saw it. It was seductive and soon began to corrupt.

“In time they founded a homestead upon the peak of a high mountain in the Edorus range, and with power unlimited, built their houses, birthed their young. Their homestead became a settlement which flourished. It is not in our nature to hurt or seek revenge, and they never returned to our forests.”

Ami saw the peak of a mountain, three people standing upon it. Rocks were shorn, stones were placed, houses made; children ran through cobbled streets. A castle tower stood proud over all, and the settlement became a town, spiralling down the mountainside.

Her eyes flickered between the trees, watching as shafts of light broke through the branches, her mind far, far away.

“We kept our gaze upon that mountain and watched with interest as the centuries passed. A civilisation had blossomed, a structure of rule appointed, and the land thrived.”

She saw the lord sitting upon his golden throne, his family around him. She saw the people paying tribute, working, providing for their families, and living.

The pictures faded and the forest lit through a break in the trees.

“Here we arrive at the river, and here you may eat and drink.” The unicorn led her under the low hanging branches and out into daylight.

*

The sound of the river burst through the silence, and Ami shaded her eyes from the glints of morning light thrown from the water as it flowed to the left, dropped, and continued on out of sight. Across the river was more forest that rose up an incline, forming the horizon against a clear blue sky.

On her side, the bank was grassy and short, enough room for only a handful of people, the trees closing on either side, breaching the river. There was a mixture of red and black berries littering the branches, the fruit full and ripe. She walked toward them, eyeing them mistrustfully before taking to the river’s edge instead. The water was clear, fast, and fresh.

The unicorn appeared at her side. “This is the crossing of Solancra,” he said, “and this is where our land, and our protection, ends. The forest across the way belongs to the Planrus Lands, and from then on your only protection shall be Hero and the knowledge I arm you with now. But first, please, drink from the water. It is pure. Eat the fruit.”

Ami got to her knees and looked down into the fast flowing waters, her reflection shattered and blurred. There were no fish that she saw, though the water was deep and wild, and could have held anything below its surface. She bowed onto her front, her hair trailing and drawing lines in the stream, and dipped her mouth to the water.

It was cold and delicious, and made her whole body tingle. She dipped in once more, taking down a few mouthfuls before sitting back up, wiping her face, and looking at the unicorn.

Xavier watched the opposing bank.

Watching you
.

“Can you feel it too?” Ami asked, startling the unicorn.

“I can feel it, yes. It is Adam. He watches us, watches you. It’s all he can do right now, but yes, I can feel it. It feels like ice.”

Ami shuddered. She pulled up from the bank, and feeling her stomach roar, approached the fruit again. She took a berry from the nearest branch—a ripe red—and popped it into her mouth. The juices broke like an explosion on her tongue, the taste like nothing she’d ever tasted before. She ate a few more, savouring them.

“If the city was doing so well, why did my father leave? Why is this Adam so angry?” She ate another berry and glanced across the river. The water shimmered and flashed, images forming and rising from the water, floating upon surface. There was a man who rode a horse through fields, across hills, a crystal-tipped spear at his side.

“Hundreds of years passed in peace and prosperity, and through that time, one family clung to power. A son or daughter would inherit the land as the last lord or lady died, but hate, jealousy, and deceit soon reared their heads in each new generation. A son who would challenge his father’s rule; a daughter would poison her mother and steal the horn. Peace and prosperity, like beauty, is only ever in the eye of the beholder, and though the city thrived and the lands expanded, the rulers became ruthless and cruel; it changed hands frequently.

“The lords and ladies would ride from the city into the Planrus Lands to hunt, and it was on such an excursion that Lord Harold became curious. He’d been lord for only a few years, but had heard stories about an impenetrable forest in the north, a forest that, no matter the attempt, never yielded. Axes would blunt, swords would break; climbing was treacherous and ended in surrender or death. He went to find it, and find it he did.”

Hero walked from the forest as Ami sat upon the grassy bank, her eyes fixed to the rushing river, watching history unfold.

“Lord Harold tried his sword on a branch, but the sword flew from his hand. He tried to climb, and fell. With the horn-tipped spear he tried to stab the trees, yelling for entry, and found himself thrown backward into his horse that galloped away, back to the city.

“He was stranded, but determined. The horn had corrupted his heart with such arrogance, such assuredness, that he walked to the east and followed the impenetrable forest wall until he came to this very river. He followed it, finding the entrance to the forest where the river springs.

“None saw him again.”

Ami watched the man enter between the trees and vanish. A moment later however, another walked from the dark path between them. He started back along the river, picking his way through the forest.

“Yes, another came from those lands, and after three days of travelling, arrived at the city gates. With the crystal horn in his hand, he made his way to the castle where he told all that he was Harold’s son, Garth. He claimed to be from another layer and made himself lord.

“There was an uprising, but it was soon crushed as Garth used the horn’s power against his own people, removing enemy from enemy, expelling the old rule and ushering in his own.

“It became a tradition for the old lord to walk to the forests of the Mortrus Lands when they felt their time was done. Without fail, a new young leader would emerge, the horn a sceptre in his hands. No longer was a son or daughter born of the land an heir to the throne, and in knowing this, there was no more bloodshed, the line of lords purified.

“Each new lord would tell of being raised in a different time and place, of how they were trained and prepared for the day they’d enter a new land. Each told of how the old lords regained their youth and started new lives, begat new families. None, however, would tell of their journey into the Mortrus Lands. None remembered, and none could break the tradition. It was their legacy, and the land was named after it.”

The spell broke once more, and Ami shook her head, clearing the images from her sight.

“How come I can see, actually
see
what you are saying? It kinda takes over my mind.” Ami stood and reached out again, this time to stroke the unicorn’s nose.

Xavier allowed this, bowing his head to her touch. “It is easiest to show you, as our power gives us sight. We see all things around us, if we choose to look. We watched over the centuries with great interest, the legacy of our fallen brother, and what he unwittingly helped to spawn. When one of us sees, we can all see, and so I can show you the start of your legacy.” Xavier moved then, away from Ami. “Hero, have you provisioned for your journey west?”

Hero had been leaning against a tree with his dark eyes watching the images unfold as Ami had been. “My men are close by.”

“Very well.” Xavier turned back to Ami. “Our time together grows short, so I must continue, then you shall continue on your journey, and I hope, unhindered.”

Ami took a deep breath, and then looked out to the river again. She watched a leaf swirl and swirl around a branch, turning and turning as the man turned, looking behind him and all around him as he left the moonlit city.

“Lord Graeme, your father, was an old man. He’d left his wife in the night and walked from the city to end his time. The lord was to walk the last walk alone, a three day trek to the Mortrus Lands. He was drawn there, longed for it.

“Once he’d reached the forest though, another revealed himself. His son, Adam, had followed him the whole way, keeping out of sight. Adam was jealous and angry, and wanted to be the next Lord of Legacy. He saw it as his birth right, though he knew it would never be allowed. So he’d devised a plan. He would murder his father and throw him into the forest, returning to Legacy with the horn, proclaiming himself lord. A fight ensued and both men fell into the forest, neither to emerge again.