by Lisa Daniels
© Copyright 2019 by The Publisher - All rights reserved.
It is not legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document either by electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is prohibited unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
Table of Contents
Itzel’s Assassin
Rosaline’s Assassin
Phoenix’s Assassin
Heaven’s Assassin
Preview of Taja’s Dragon
Get Your EXCLUSIVE & FREE Copy of
TAJA’S DRAGON
See the Preview Below!
http://authorlisadaniels.gr8.com/
Itzel’s Assassin
Panthers of Brigantia
Book 1
By: Lisa Daniels
Chapter 1
The End of a Long, Ill-Advised Trip
“What is it that makes you feel so certain this isn’t a setup?” The assassin’s handsome face emerged from the shadows as he asked, his clear eyes conveying his discomfort with their current situation. Itzel couldn’t help but smile at his concern. He continued, “We know that there is a corrupted seer within the palace walls, and the champions are sending Haiden, despite having several far more qualified options. We do not need someone who will simply agree to whatever the mystics propose.”
Itzel’s pinkish blue eyes shone as she looked into the concerned startling pink eyes of her travel companion. Pushing a strand of her long, blue-silver hair out of her face, she prepared herself for an interesting discussion. It was a subject that they had been dancing around ever since leaving home more than three weeks ago, but this was the first time he had directly asked her about her belief. That had not stopped her from being fairly open with her own answer every time it had come up, at least as open as she ever was with anyone.
“Darius, we have already been through this. I know that Haiden isn’t exactly the most… powerful of negotiators, but given the situation, I think I can understand it. We need to keep the peace, and really, I don’t think there is any champion more capable of that. Would you rather see Draven or Maverick there?”
There was a low growl. “I mean they could have sent Benettio or Legend. Particularly Legend. Among all of them, sending him would have made the most sense. It certainly would have inspired the most confidence in their sincerity to see this through.”
“I believe that he is currently occupied with something more important.”
A small smirk lifted the edges of his mouth. “Now that you have admitted that there are other actions that are of greater import, I believe it is time we stopped this game and head home.”
The girlish laugh that filled the carriage let him know that Itzel was not going to take him seriously. “Always looking for a new angle for your argument. It isn’t going to work, and you know it. Comparing our current situation to that which Legend is dealing with is like comparing running an errand to pulling a mort statera back from the brink. After the mystics failed to manage Mia’s daughter….” She frowned, trying to remember the name of the mystic who had recently nearly created a time hole that would have destroyed a large portion of Brigantia.
“Her name is Iris.”
“Ah right,” Itzel nodded. “Iris, the mystics’ next mort statera that they not only failed to monitor, they failed to notice what she was before it was nearly too late. The champions and seers are not nearly so careless. I would think you, of all the assassins, would understand how sensitive the matter is that is now in Legend’s very capable hands.” She smirked, “Especially now that we know he is not only beyond the prophecy, but has found a real emotional connection. Surely you would not deny him that.”
Darius’s eyes flicked to the window as he clenched his jaw. “It is sad to see how the mighty have fallen. And so I lose confidence in another long-standing ally. But I realize he must be feeling a certain amount of relief on that first point. At least for now.” His eyes moved back to hers, “But it is not the relief that many of you believe. He is now living like everyone else, uncertain of when and how his demise will come. Until recently, he was safe as long as he avoided one thing. Now every day is uncertain.”
There was a hint of something behind the assassin’s words that bothered Itzel, but she wasn’t going to acknowledge it. “Thank you for being more direct about it. Talking openly was never one of your strengths, so listening to you dance around the subject has been stressful.” She giggled. “Even if it was a bit amusing.”
There was a heavy sigh that chased away the echoes of the mirth from the small space. The handsome features of the assassin faded into the shadows as he sat back, the motions of the carriage impossible to note from the steadiness of what little could still be seen of him. From the darkness, he muttered, “At least they could have sent someone who looked like a champion. They are giving away one of their greatest secrets by sending one of their three champions with a unique appearance.”
Itzel said nothing, in part because with that she could at least agree. Haiden’s unusual appearance had often worked in the champion’s favor, so it did seem odd to lose that now. He certainly was one of their most well-known champions, but there was a difference between knowing a name and knowing a face. To Itzel, that showed that the champions were willing to take some greater risks to try to establish an alliance that would see the magic users finally working together, instead of on their own. However, she knew that agreeing would lead to another argument. If she was to be honest, it was just as risky for Darius to be at the meeting as it was for the champions to send Haiden. Darius was also a unique case, as he lacked several of the most definitive characteristics of an assassin. He was considerably taller than the average assassin. His pink eyes and white hair would have made people confuse him for a guardian if he had allowed himself to be seen outside of their home country. Darius was the only albino assassin in the world—there was never more than one. Itzel had known that this had drastically colored the way he had seen the world. The one who lived before him had been everything that Darius was not. The shifter sitting across from her had grown up resenting the comparison, and she wondered how much of his personality was a defense mechanism, and how much was really who he was.
Her agreement went unspoken as she watched what little of him was left in the light. As always, she was impressed by how he was able to look entirely unmoved by his surroundings. Her body was rocking and shifting with each stone or hole they struck, yet his body was as stationary as if he sat in a chair before the druids. A friendly smile spread across her face as she watched the only hint of his frustration. Darius was not known for his emotions, but she knew where to look, and at that moment his foot moved in annoyance of the situation, almost imperceptibly tapping on the floor. While most assassins tended to use humor and charisma to get the job done, Darius was renowned for using shadows and never being seen. He worked almost exclusively from the shadows, opting to pass judgment through observation instead of interaction, a method of which most druids did not approve. However, he was not only incredibly effective, he was far more efficient than the rest of the assassins. Almost like a secret weapon in every sense of the word. No matter if they approved of his methods or not, all of the druids had turned to him at some point in their extensive lives to get things done when speed was required. As Darius had often argued in his unemotional way, interaction could certainly change an assassin’s opinion, but that did not mean that it was necessarily more accurate or that it always yielded reliable results. No matter how good an assassin was, there were
always personal opinions that would be in play for an interaction, and that could color the entire interaction. Still, his less personable approach often meant that he was excluded from the more critical missions because it was more important to be certain than to be quick with actions that could make or break the ancient group. Itzel had always suspected that this had been intentional on his part. His predecessor had always been the first in the field. Darius was always the last.
Itzel was one of the very few who knew Darius well enough to understand that his approach was not so different from the other assassins’ views—the person opposing him just didn’t get to see how he reached his decision. His methods were completely internalized, and any argument made after he reached a decision was typically seen as an emotional gamut, and he was right far more often than most druids were willing to admit. The only time when Darius was open to external information was while he was forming a decision. He did realize these came from an emotional point as well, but that played into the way he made the decision, stripping the argument of the emotion and seeing it from an almost completely objective perspective. The lack of understanding of how he worked had caused so many of the druids to be less receptive to his decisions, and he was not one to try to persuade them to see things his way. Just as he loathed people trying to change his mind, Darius respected the decisions of others and did not try to push his thinking on them. This had meant that he was rarely assigned any tasks, and over time, druids had come to think of him more as a protector than an assassin. And that was exactly why Itzel had been astonished when he had insisted on joining her. This decision made it clear that he more than simply disagreed with her thinking—no, it showed something else, but she was not certain what. Her intentions on going to Solona were just as mysterious as she rarely opened up to anyone about her real intentions. Perhaps this was why she understood him so well. Neither of them were prone to persuasion, it was just far less obvious with Itzel that she was not listening to others.
She watched him, her mind again trying to come up with some reason for why he had joined her. The only possible reason she could surmise for him joining her was that Darius planned to try to persuade her to change her mind. Every day, he had put forth his view, warned her about the potential problems with the trip, and tried to convince her to change her mind. It had really thrown her in the beginning, but over the weeks she had become accustomed to it, dismissing every attempt he had made with greater ease. Never once did she reprimand him for it either. Something about his repeated, indirect attempts to get his view across were met with interest and a bit of confusion. In the end, she was very intrigued by what was driving him to act so out of character.
Itzel understood her travel companion well enough to know that this was completely out of character for him, and despite some annoyance, she was touched that he cared enough to leave his home to protect her. Even if he was trying to protect her from herself. The whole trip had been incredibly fascinating as she had seen several different variations of the assassin she had known for so long. Instead of taking offense to his obvious belief that the trip would be a disaster, she wanted to find out what was driving Darius to act against his own beliefs. So far, it had been a largely disappointing study because he had refused to address it directly. With the castle now within view, he was running out of time.
His voice was pouty as he muttered, “Why do you have to be so stubborn?”
“Someone has to be able to handle you.”
“You are attempting to lightly change the subject.” His cold tone caused her to giggle. It was always nice to be called out for what she was doing. So many people missed her slight pivots in conversation that would take it away from whatever path she did not want to follow.
Turning the giggle into a cough, she wiped her mouth with a small handkerchief. “Excuse me. So much dust on these roads. But you are wrong. You just don’t recognize the problem I am working to resolve.”
His voice was nonplussed as he responded, “Don’t try that on me. You already know it doesn’t work.”
Itzel place a hand under her chin and looked out of the window. “Nothing works on you, so I am not trying anything.”
“That is the third attempt. I would appreciate it if you would stop insulting my intelligence.”
The smile slid from her face. “I am not insulting you at all. Merely acting like myself.”
This was met with a tense silence as both parties considered the possible outcomes for the next 24 hours. Neither was likely to open up about their expectations. Occasionally, Itzel’s eyes would flick toward the darkness to see if there was any change in her companion only to find that she could not make out anything. It did not take long before the smile began to tweak the corners of her mouth, and it evolved almost imperceptibly over the course of the silence. Too much had happened for the druids to sit back any longer, and she knew it. Darius had often pressed for a more insular approach, but he was often aware that they would need to interact outside of their tight-knit group if they were to survive. His extreme reluctance for Itzel to go seemed strange considering everything that had happened over the last few years. Darius had made it clear that they would need to be more proactive, but once the mystics had finally reached out, he met it with extreme distrust and suspicion of the intent. Almost none of the other druids had been willing to leave after he had expressed his opinion of the situation, a decision that Itzel felt was too quickly reached. She knew that such a move was risky, but avoiding the mystics would only put the druids and assassins in greater danger. She resolved to meet the mystic queen, and was shocked when Darius had immediately insisted on joining her once it was clear she was going to see Freya no matter what anyone else said.
Itzel would like to have ignored the signs the way so many other druids were, but following Kendra’s death, she knew that they needed to take risks to join with the only people who could actually act as a formidable force against the Unwashed. Itzel and Rosaline had been the only two who had insisted that someone had to go to build a better relationship, and they had both offered themselves as the representative. Everyone knew that was a potential trap, even without knowing who the champions planned to send. They had all known of the corrupted seer within the castle walls within a week of her arrival, and being in close proximity with a corrupted creature made all of them uncomfortable. Rosaline had been required elsewhere, and had bowed out to let Itzel be the negotiator.
Of all the magic users, only the assassins had been both aware and incredibly wary of the rise of the Unwashed. The mystics had dismissed the cult as a problem for the mainland, a place where they rarely went, and their guardians only paid attention to them when they were with a mystic taking care of international business. The exceptions were the few guardians who sought mystics living on the mainland, and one very eccentric guardian who always did things his own way. The seers hailed from a small but once powerful nation that had been in decline for the last couple of centuries. They and their champions had not seen the problem as being more critical than the decline of the nation until it was too late. The Unwashed had exploited their weakened state, and there were now very few remaining known seers in the world. The only positive aspect was that unlike the other two female magic users, seers could be born to anyone who had seer blood, no matter how many generations had passed since the last seer. The champions had recognized the problem that the Unwashed posed after encountering some of the earliest corrupted seers, but they had failed to see the threat for what it was until the assassins had approached them. Even the druids had seen the sect as a passing threat that would eventually fall away as their enemies usually did. The fact that they were human made the Unwashed seem like a joke. Time had proven everyone else wrong. On their own, the assassins could only monitor the actions of the Unwashed. They had to witness the cult members in action before they could judge, something that was difficult to witness in the early days as the Unwashed had worked in secret for so long, and the assassins could not follow them aft
er the druids’ declaration that they were to remain neutral, not invade human space. The Unwashed emerged from their holes when they were certain they could gain the acceptance of humans who feared magic users. Because the druids had not taken the humans seriously, they had all but forbidden the assassins from direct actions, even after the Unwashed were out in the open.
Then one of their own had gone missing.
It would be a long time before they would find out what happened to her, but they had no doubt who had been at fault. Only then were the assassins given the permission needed to start judging humans on a much larger scale than at any other point in history. By then, the sect had grown far too large for them to act alone. With the other magic users still unaware of the risks of allowing the Unwashed to grow, it had taken the assassins a long time to finally strike a deal. And even that only occurred because they had taken in a few jaguar shifters who were the children of outcast parents. Those children had been raised to fight as much like assassins as champions, but had retained many of the unique abilities of their kind. Never quite as fast as the panthers, the jaguars had proven to be the necessary bridge between the two cat shifter types to finally get the champions to join the fight against the Unwashed. There had been a couple who had been more receptive, but even Legend had limited abilities to sway the champions as their focus had always been more on repopulation than anything else. Until the rise of the assassin-trained children, the champions had viewed the Unwashed as largely a threat for other nations. Too late, they learned just how vulnerable that had made them and the seers to the machinations of the humans.
Though he had not carried out the training, Darius had been the assassin to propose such a bizarre method. Typically, children of other cat shifters were left to fend for themselves. Engaging with them was incredibly risky, particularly with the jaguar shifters. Given their small population, it took an extreme act of betrayal for the jaguars to banish their own. Though some of the assassins had wanted to use the men and women who had been banished to fight the Unwashed, Darius had argued that taking their children would be viewed more favorably by the champions, whereas working with those who had been banished would further the divide. His initial suggestion was naturally viewed with doubts and derision—particularly as it would take decades to train them—but Itzel and Orion had soon realized the power behind his argument. From there, they had sold the idea to others. When Caspian had made one of his rare appearances, Itzel had made sure to greet him and catch his ear before anyone else could sway him on the issue. Once Caspian had agreed to train the children, all arguments against Darius’s plan ceased.