by Lisa Daniels
Itzel fell in step beside him, noting that he was moving slower than earlier. “What is the plan?”
“A mystic and her guardian.”
“So, it is a straightforward attack?”
“Yes.”
“Whose idea was it?”
“Mine.”
Itzel nodded. It definitely seemed more like something he would think of because she knew his abilities—it made it difficult to think of him as anything other than an assassin. Even if she had thought of it, Itzel would have probably kept quiet instead of saying something that might come off as an insult.
She slipped behind him to make it look like he was protecting her. That would be expected of her if she were a mystic because guardians almost always kept themselves between their charges and danger. As they neared their targets, Darius pulled out a small weapon.
“What is that?”
“It’s a crossbow.”
“Where did you get it?”
“From the guys at the bottom of the bay. Got one for you, too.”
Suddenly one of the weapons was in front of her face. “I don’t know how to work one of these things,” Itzel said, tentatively taking the weapon.
“Point and shoot. Watch me if you still aren’t certain.” His hand slid through the air, forming a small arrow. He held the weapon out to the side so that she could see him slide it into the slot and pull it back. He pointed it at one of the Unwashed preparing another vessel. Without a word, he pulled the trigger, releasing the arrow. Itzel watched the entire process, from the moment Darius held it out to demonstrate what to do, through to the end result. The Unwashed fell over without any warning, catching several others off-guard. Darius was already loading a third shot by the time the man hit the ground. Itzel’s first arrow quickly followed his fourth, and the resulting confusion gave them enough time to take out nearly two dozen before the Unwashed could mount any kind of counter to their sudden arrival.
Chapter 7
A Different Side of Darius
The pair tore through many of the men running around outside. Itzel looked around them, and threw her crossbow to the ground. “Despite having had more than an hour, they are so disorganized. I have no idea how these guys have ended up such a serious threat.” Her hand stretched out to the water.
A large hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled her arm down as the water on the beach began to rise. “The city.” Darius released her arm and shot a couple more men heading their way.
With a heavy sigh, Itzel responded, “Right, can’t draw attention to ourselves.” She put her hand under her mouth and blew over her palm. The air around them began to blow toward the mountain, knocking over the line of men who had begun to form in front of them. “We should probably get in the mountain so that we can fight with a little more ease. You can transform out here.”
Darius let out a low growl, a sigh that he agreed. Despite having taken out a large number of men, the Unwashed had finally started to get themselves together, and they were far more of a threat when they worked together.
Despite that, there was no real threat to Darius and Itzel. The Unwashed were using methods to neutralize a mystic and a guardian, methods that were far too weak to stop just one of the two on their own. The pair made their way to the opening in the mountain, as men tried to surround them on all sides.
As soon as the group pinned them in, Itzel could hear them begin to laugh.
“They think they have won,” her voice was amused as she muttered this to Darius who was currently standing at her back.
“It’s about time. I was beginning to think that we were going to have to keep picking them off a few at a time. This makes it so much easier.” There was a purring quality to his voice that Itzel had never heard. “Count to 10, then drop to the ground.” His voice was low, too low to be heard by any of the menacing men.
A wicked smile graced her face as Itzel looked the closest Unwashed in the eye. “Foolish, foolish humans. How easily fooled you are.” Her voice carried around them. The men in front of her watched in confusion as she dropped to the ground, balling up so that she would not be in Darius’s way. She did not protect her head because she wanted to see just how he fought. He was the only assassin whom she had not seen in action—no one had. When Darius worked, there were never any survivors.
Darius drew two short swords hidden on his back under his shirt. Itzel expected him to have fluid, direct movements that would quickly dispatch the men around them. To her surprise, Darius moved much more like a cat toying with its prey. He danced around her, drawing blood, but never striking a killing blow. Every time one of the men looked like he was about to lunge forward, Darius would slash whatever body part was closest to Itzel. When they made a move to harm him, he would slash their backs. A few drops of blood landed on Itzel, but she didn’t notice because of the shock. Darius had rarely shown emotion until the trip, and she found it very difficult to believe how happy he seemed toying with the men.
One of the Unwashed broke ranks and began to flee toward the cave entrance. Darius laughed while pulling the weapon from one of the other men. The next second, the man fleeing was face down in the sand, trying to drag himself to the cave with a javelin in his back.
Darius moved faster and faster, as more men tried to run. When they tried to scream, he slit their throats so that they would not be heard across the water.
The attack took less than ten minutes, but by the time it was over, none of the Unwashed who had been outside were still alive.
Darius wiped his blades on the back of one of the men as he looked over the carnage. Placing the blades in their sheaths on his back, he picked up a couple of men and dropped them between the men near the mountain cave and the ones near the boat on the beach. He stretched out a hand, causing the corpses to vibrate on the sand. Seconds later, they were gone.
Turning back to Itzel, he held out his hand, the same emotionless expression on his face. She simply looked at his hand. He blinked at her a couple of times. “We need to go inside, Itzel. Several have already gone in to warn the rest, which will make it harder to destroy their work.”
Hesitantly, Itzel placed her hand in his. “I thought that you hated killing.”
Darius tilted his head to the side as he pulled her to her feet. “I usually don’t take pleasure in it.”
“You tortured them.”
Her accusation was met with a look of pity. Darius gave her a weak smile, “I didn’t kill them like that the first time, but I figured that I could make a special case for them after...” He shook his head, obviously rethinking what he wanted to say. “I want you to stay close to the front. Do not follow me too far.”
Itzel pursed her lips, “Is it really that bad in there?”
“It will be safer for you to stay behind.”
“Are you doubting my abilities? Or is it my ability to cope emotionally that you are questioning?”
He moved his hand close to her face, but before he touched her, he pulled his hand back, then stretched it out again and patted her on the head. Giving her a little smile, he asked, “Would you humor me?”
“You are acting incredibly strange.”
“I am making sure that there is minimal damage.” His eyes flashed, and Itzel felt certain he was hiding something from her.
“I cannot make that promise, but I swear that I will not be a burden to you.”
He arched an eyebrow, “If that were true, you would listen to me.”
“Darius, I’m not a child. In case you need to be reminded, I am older than you.”
“And you are far more emotional than me.”
“Sometimes that is a strength.”
“Sometimes it is,” his agreement surprised her. Typically, he would argue that emotions had no place in decisions about doing what was right.
She smirked at him, “I appreciate the sentiment, but I am fairly certain that we shouldn’t be going in there at all. I’m not about to let you go alone.”
Darius lo
oked at her for a few moments, then turned toward the cave. “We need to hurry.”
“Not going to argue with me about it?” she asked, moving quickly to catch up with him.
“There is no time. They are making their way further in. As you said, you are older and over the last few weeks you have proven that you will not listen to me. I win nothing by trying to make you see reason.”
“I won’t see reason? What about you? Who told you to wait for backup? I'm betting it was Orion.”
She saw his eyes flash as he turned his face toward her for a second. “No. Caspian.” Then he stepped into the shadows of the cave.
The name made her stop moving for a fraction of a second, almost enough not to be noticed. But Darius didn’t miss anything. “Why would you go to him?”
“Orion isn’t available at the moment.”
“What? Why?”
“I thought you were the mature adult here, so I would hate to think that I need to remind you to focus, Itzel.”
“Oh, ha ha. You are hilarious, Darius. You know—”
Suddenly he shoved her to the ground. Itzel lost her balance, but was able to keep from hitting the ground by creating a cushion of air. Looking up with her eyes flashing, she saw a white flash on the other side of a wide cavern. The sound of something hitting the ground behind her caused Itzel to turn around. Her eyes saw a piece of wood rolling on the rocks, and then she realized that was the kind of arrow that the Unwashed used.
“You bastards,” she growled. Focusing her energy, she began to stir the air around them. The druid started slowly at first, giving Darius enough warning of what she was about to do. Flicking her hand behind her, she shielded the magic from the Council, then the air began to twirl. Her hair whipped around her as the pebbles on the ground began to vibrate, then lift off. Men around the room began to scream as they were pelted by debris stirred up by the rough winds moving at hurricane speeds around them. Screams could be heard further into the cavern, letting her know that Darius had left her to take care of the men in the cavern. Quickly taking a count of the men she could see, Itzel pulled out one of the flame balls. She looked at it as the men covered their heads trying to protect themselves from the winds. The druid barely noticed them as she shivered. “Too close. This is too close.”
Slipping the ball back in the pouch, Itzel drew the air toward herself. The sounds around her changed from screams to gasps as the men fell to the ground. They tried to draw breath, and for a moment she felt sorry for them. The druid slid a barrier to the tunnels, then drew all of the air in the cavern around her. Each of the men collapsed to the floor, their mouths moving noiselessly as they had no oxygen to breathe. Itzel walked toward the first man, placing her hand on his head and extinguishing his life. For a moment, his eyes reflected fear, then relief. Finally, his head fell to the floor, his eyes lifeless. Quickly, she moved to each of the other men, ending their lives and suffering before they could suffocate. That would have been a far longer, more painful process, and Itzel loathed to cause suffering.
Pulling back the barrier and releasing the air, she moved down the tunnel to find Darius. It was a relatively easy path to follow. Any time she had a question about which way he had gone, she needed only to look for the corpses and press forward.
With each corpse she saw, Itzel felt more uneasy. All of the men Darius had killed had clearly suffered before they died. A few were still trying to draw breath through clearly fatal wounds. Assassins were never supposed to leave victims to suffer like Darius had left the Unwashed. Itzel began to pick up her pace. After easing the passing of the third man since entering the tunnel, Itzel was running to catch up with Darius.
“What are you doing? Is this why you have stayed locked up for so long?” Itzel tore through the tunnels at a pace that she would have thought impossible. No longer concerned about the Unwashed, she was terrified about what was happening with Darius.
Then she rounded a corner, and Itzel saw something she would never forget.
Chapter 8
A Roiling Rage and a Change of Heart
The area was like a cavern that had been converted to a cafeteria. Bloodied and dying men were scattered all over the room. For a second, Itzel stood in horror, taking in the carnage before her, and her mind had a hard time understanding just what she was looking at. This was not the work of an assassin. This was revenge.
Rushing forward, the druid placed her hands on two different men, drawing their lives from them. As soon as their lifeless eyes looked back at her, Itzel stood up and looked around. These men would suffer terribly before she could get to them all. Against her better judgment, she pulled out one of the fire balls. Running to one of the tunnels, she looked down to see if there were any signs of Darius. It took her looking down several tunnels before she finally found the right one. Turning back to the cafeteria, she threw the ball into the middle of the room, then tried to build a barrier between her and the room. The rush of air as the fire exploded hit the top of the barrier, causing the barrier to collapse. Itzel was thrown backwards as fire consumed the room.
Her legs were shaking as she stood up. An intense pain in her head caused her to double over. Placing her hand on the back of her head, she felt something sticky. She brought her hand around but did not need to see the blood to know what it was. Rubbing the pain away, she mended the fracture in her skull. The problem was that this would slow her down even more, and given the number of Unwashed Darius was leaving to die slowly, she knew that she did not have time for the pain.
Staggering forward, Itzel panted, “Darius.” Taking in more air, she cried, “Darius!” She no longer cared if anyone heard his name because it was obvious that he meant to kill everyone in the place, but he was going to make it long and painful.
Calling his name, she looked into the cafeteria. Everything was scorched, and she could not sense any life in the room. She turned, her body quickly recovering from the injury.
“Darius!” Her cries turned from agony to anger, and her feet responded by running down the tunnel.
An arrow bounced off of the wall in front of her, reminding Itzel that she still needed to be cautious. Her eyes shone with anger as the druid turned to look to see who had shot at her. Standing down a side tunnel was a woman with a crossbow.
“What are you?” the woman hissed.
Looking at the creature, Itzel couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. The woman was patches of different types of magic, all crammed into her body in ways that didn’t fit. It was warping and contorting her mind and soul.
“You poor thing.” Itzel had heard about the corrupted, but this was the first time she had encountered one in person. Holding up her hand, she blasted air into the woman. Instead of being knocked over, the woman moved a hand, knocking the air to the side. Itzel blinked. It was harder to know how to fight a seer who had these kinds of abilities.
The woman reloaded her weapon as Itzel drew a dart from the air. Before she could throw it, a white streak bowled the woman over and flew down the tunnel.
The crossbow was knocked away from the woman, who howled at the failure. Her body writhed as something caused her to contort in pain. Itzel watched in horror, not sure what had happened beyond Darius’s brief appearance. She knew that she needed to trace him, but the woman was already starting to drag herself toward the crossbow. Her arm was at an angle that was just wrong. Itzel ran forward, picking up the weapon seconds before the seer could grab it. Lifting it, she heard the woman on the ground hissing at her. Slotting an arrow from the air into the crossbow, she shot the seer through the eye. The woman’s head dropped to the ground.
Something stirred in Itzel at the sight of the seer. There was no love lost between the druids and either of the other two magic user groups, but this was something else entirely. Rubbing her face with her hand, the druid decided to take the crossbow with her. As easy as it was to use the air to create arrows, the woman had proven that she would need more than just magic. The men had turned women into weap
ons that could counter her lower level magic.
Mumbling about the lack of water in a mountain, Itzel hurried after Darius. “Of course we have to be stuck in a mountain where I can’t be most efficient. Why would this be easy?” She turned to look at the dead woman, tripping over something in front of her. Itzel rolled, creating another cushion of air to keep herself from hitting the ground. Afraid of what she would see, Itzel closed her eyes for a second before looking at what caused her to trip. On the ground were several women, their bodies twisted in ways that suggested they had been tortured. Staggering backward, Itzel gasped.
As the sound echoed around the tunnel, one of the women moaned. To Itzel’s disgust, the woman’s head turned to look at her. With her heart racing, the druid tried to read the woman but found no life in her. Shaking her head, Itzel loaded the crossbow and shot the woman through the eye. Uncertain if the others were alive or dead, she shot each of them with a wooden arrow to make sure they would not be able to deflect the bolts.
Itzel stared at the bodies for a moment. “Did you do this, Darius? Or was this their work?” The druid was mortified to think that she couldn’t tell the difference between the assassin’s work and the Unwashed’s. “Just what have you done, Darius? What have you done?”
As an assassin, he should have stopped and freed the women—it was part of his obligation, but he had left it to Itzel. There was no doubt that he had been through the area either because there were dead Unwashed in the adjoining room.
Frowning, Itzel moved into the room to see why he had finished off the men in the room after leaving so many of his victims alive. Itzel shot the first with a bolt made from the air. There was no doubt he was dead. Pushing him over with her crossbow, Itzel immediately regretted her decision to investigate. Darius had not been in his panther form when he had attacked the men in here, and the wounds were much more violent than what he had done to the others. Looking around the room, Itzel used her other senses. She was almost knocked off of her feet as the sensation of magic struck her. Her head turned toward the women just outside the room, and she knew that whatever these men had been doing had been done in that room. They had bled the magic from the women, which had destroyed them without killing them.