The Winged Assassin

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The Winged Assassin Page 6

by Gwynn White


  She lunged to Averin and lifted his freezing wrist to check his pulse. His hand was as dry as an onion skin. Her fingers slid around his wrist. A slow, steady throb reassured her that he was still alive. She rocked back to wait until her heart stopped galloping.

  “Is he okay?” Klaus’s voice rattled.

  She nodded. “Yes. For now, I guess.”

  “Thank the gods.” Klaus creaked down to kneel on his good leg and let out a long, slow breath as he stretched his mangled leg out to the side. He hadn’t yet mentioned the threat to kill him and the rest of their friends.

  She thumped her hands onto the cobbles. “Klaus, think about it. What kind of power does Darien have that he can rip the water from every fae in Ocea?” She shook her head. “He even has spells that override schorl.” Schorl, the only substance known to bind fae magic. “That’s unimaginable power. If he says he can kill you all, I believe him.” She met his eyes. They were wide and darting. “I don’t have enough control over my magic to stop him.” She looked down at comatose Averin and wailed, “Even my white heat is beyond my grasp.”

  Klaus paled and clutched her arm. “Darien’s stolen your white heat?”

  “No. I made a bargain with the tree last night while you were sleeping.”

  “The one you mentioned to Averin?” The explanation obviously didn’t help. He still looked paler than milk.

  She nodded. “I’ve blocked Averin from controlling my magic. Just as well, given how all these royals grub for what isn’t theirs.”

  A crease furrowed Klaus’s brow. “Darien? Has he taken your fire? Is that how he plans to capture you? And why didn’t he pull out your water? Because you’re a Pyreack fae?” He looked down at Averin. “He isn’t. Yet, here he lies.…”

  She blinked. “Good point. It must be my bargain. I’d be royally pissed at that tree right now if I was dried meat.” Still, she took an uncertain breath and looked inward at her magic.

  A curl of flame played catch with a tiny wave of pure water. It was like they were children without a care in the world. She wheezed out a breath—this was why she made crazy bargains with questionable fae and their monsters.

  She shot Klaus a smug smile. “All good with me. I’ve defied the all-powerful king of Pyreack and Ocea.” She couldn’t resist a flourishing hand roll. “What a force I’ll be when I’ve got my magical act together.”

  Klaus’s entire stance loosened. “Then the rest of us will be okay.” He gave her a confident smile that both warmed and twisted her insides.

  Everything rested on her. Yet, her fabulous bargain was also a two-sided sword. As much as it could protect them, it could also leave them defenseless when they most desperately needed her magic.

  Why did everything have to be so hard?

  Fighting bone-numbing heaviness, she stood. “We should make sure Feral Fox and the boys are safe.”

  A little further down the road, Feral Fox and the boys were talking. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but from the hand gestures and the fact that they all spoke at once, they weren’t happy.

  Hardly surprising.

  Trystaen, Eliezar, and Suren lay crumpled at their feet. Suren’s glamour had gone. His red Pyreack fighting leathers shone like a beacon in the center of Trystaen and Eliezar’s black leathers.

  She stiffened. Eliezar, more than any of her fae friends, had always seemed indestructible. Now he sprawled on the ground with his fists curled around the hilts of his swords. Needle-like icicles glistened on the blades. Even the satchel he always wore slung across his shoulder was crusted with ice. She almost staggered under the weight of her hatred for Darien. The sooner everyone was awake and fighting, the sooner they could rally a fae army to march on Pyreack to destroy Darien. Only then would the war be over.

  She turned back to Averin to rouse him. His eyes were closed, his sooty-black lashes dark against his pallor. She knelt and trailed a finger across the hard planes of his face, beautiful even when desiccated.

  Moisture beaded the tip of her finger as she stroked his cheek. She hadn’t even felt her water magic stir. His skin creaked like old leather beneath her touch. She pulled back to watch his tan reclaim the sharp tip of his cheek bone. A smile lifted the corner of her mouth.

  But Averin would need a lot more than the watery film from her fingertip before he was up and fighting at her side.

  Water flooded her skin, every pore opening to reveal glistening droplets.

  Release us, and we’ll wake every fae in this town. In Ocea. Armed with ice picks, spears, and swords, they’ll reclaim our land. Not even Darien’s magic will stop us.

  Huh?

  She skittered back.

  Her water magic had spoken. She’d heard it. Clear as day.

  Instead of a grumpy ball of ice or a playful child, she sensed a limitless, ancient ocean in her core, tossed with currents of powerful magic. With time, and no interruptions, she could probably spill enough water to cover the town, if not the whole of Ocea.

  Pfft, her water magic spluttered. It’s time you had some faith in us.

  Okay. So maybe she could flood more than the town, but that didn’t mean she should. If Averin woke and saw water gushing out of her—

  She grimaced. Even worse, if Darien were to learn of it, she’d lose her only advantage.

  But how could she refuse to help Averin? She carefully traced the outline of Averin’s bow-shaped lips. They parted. An unfamiliar, intense urge sizzled in her veins, overwhelming reason and will. Before she could stop herself, she leaned down to brush Averin’s mouth with hers.

  His lips were dry, frozen. No longer soft and warm—like when he’d kissed her in the temple the night before the attack on Angharad and then proceeded to tell her he didn’t want her that way.

  She jerked back in irritation at all of Averin’s mixed messages. A hand touched her shoulder. Face red to be caught mooning over Averin, she spun.

  Klaus loomed over her. “I see we have a problem.”

  “What problem?” she groused to cover up her embarrassment.

  “You have water magic as well as fire.” Klaus used her shoulder for balance and leaned heavily on his good leg. “I didn’t know that was possible.”

  “It’s not supposed to be possible. It’s never happened before, and I don’t know why it’s happened now. Only Boa, Suren, Feral Fox, and the boys know. I’m not even allowed to tell him.” Her hand flitted to Averin. Her kiss had softened his face, so he looked almost peaceful as he slept. The rest of his exposed skin still had the texture of tree bark.

  “You’re falling in love with him.” Klaus said it so matter-of-factly, she almost choked. He shrugged. “It’s okay, Stasha. I want you to be happy. And I know for sure Tarik would too. He celebrated life. He lived and died that way. He’d hate you to be locked into grief and mourning forever.”

  She eased back on her haunches. “How easily you talk of Tarik now.”

  Klaus’s kind eyes softened. “We’ve both survived things we never should have. And regardless of Darien’s threats, we’re not only alive, we’re powerful.” He grinned. “At last you are.” He squeezed her shoulder. “And for the first time, I feel powerful too. It’s time we both moved on and embraced the life the gods have given us.” When she scowled at the mention of the gods, he stuck his tongue out at her. Moments later, his brow rumpled. Only Klaus could flip between ease and worry in a dizzying heartbeat. “We need to get moving before that crazy king wakes up the town and everyone remembers you’re a Pyreack fae. Or whatever kind of fae you are.”

  “Right. Forgotten that.” She looked for Feral Fox and the others. They were picking their way toward them through downed fae, tankards, and bottles.

  “Wake Averin,” Klaus said. “Feral Fox and the boys can help me find food and somewhere to hide until Averin and the others are ready to travel.”

  Wise, practical Klaus.

  She grinned. “Smarty pants. Just because you’re going to be a scholar doesn’t mean you get to boss me a
round. I’m coming with you on this scouting expedition.”

  “You’re leaving Averin?” Klaus frowned.

  She glanced at Averin. There was no change—he slept. “Maybe if I dribbled a couple more drops onto him, he’ll revive on his own.” She gently trailed moist fingers down his neck and onto his chest. Without waiting to see life spreading into him, she shot to her feet, grabbed Klaus’s hand, and started walking toward the others.

  Vlad was the first to meet them. “Incredible, isn’t it.” His brown eyes smoldered. “For once, it isn’t the humans being nailed by fae. I could really get used to this.”

  Stasha’s stomach tightened. That was his first thought? Not that a monstrous fae king had threatened to slaughter him and all their friends? “I hope you don’t include Averin and our fae in that.”

  “If he does, I’ll pull his ears off.” Feral Fox stopped right behind Vlad and twisted his ear.

  Vlad yelped and glowered up at Feral Fox. “I’d never turn on my own. You know that.” He waved a grimy hand. “That includes our Angharad friends.”

  “Good.” Ivan punched Vlad’s arm. “Those friends may look like fallen logs right now, but they won’t always be that way. Remember, they can whip your butt with a thought, so don’t piss them off with any more indiscriminate fae-kill talk.”

  Stasha threw her hands in the air. “Darien says he’s got plans to slaughter you, and this is your answer? It’s not normal. What’s the matter with all of you?”

  Feral Fox, Vlad, and Ivan looked at her as if she’d sprouted wings. Goul didn’t meet her eyes.

  “You and Averin rescued us from a death camp.” Feral Fox said it so simply and with such faith, she almost burst into laughter. If Darien thought he was dealing with a bunch of underdog humans, he was in for a big surprise.

  “And if Darien was so powerful, why doesn’t he just kill Prince Averin and the others outright?” Vlad sounded truculent, like Darien had offended him by his arrogance. “Why just freeze-dry them?”

  She blinked back her surprise at his astuteness. “Valid point. I don’t know. Maybe—”

  Goul’s head shot up. “Stasha. Klaus. Ignore these morons. We need a survival plan. A proper one. How do we wake Averin and the others? Trystaen, Suren, and Eliezar all had pulses, but they were mighty slow.”

  “And we need food,” Ivan added. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m starving.” He glanced longingly at a half-eaten sandwich someone had tossed onto the ground. One side was squashed and marked with a boot print. “Do you think it’s safe to eat Ocea-fae food? It’s not like they know we’re their friends.”

  Before she could reassure him, Feral Fox spoke. “There are about twenty longboats moored at the loch. The water kind of narrows into the river Prince Averin mentioned. The Weydeen, I think he called it.” He scratched his chest with a bitten fingernail. His sheepskin jacket had been lost in Angharad, and all he wore was a thin tunic someone had given him. The brown cloak on his shoulders stank of sweat and vomit, and his face was pinched blue with cold. “We can leave in one of them like Prince Averin said.”

  Stasha shifted from foot to foot. “I can wake our fae, so no problem there. But it’ll mean using my water magic.” She scowled at each of them in turn. “Say anything to anyone about it, and I’ll warm your butts long before Averin, Trystaen, and Eliezar can whip them.” She hated threatening them, but it would be so easy for someone to slip up.

  Feral Fox raised his hand. “No need to get tetchy, Stasha. We’re not just a bunch of Askavol orphans; we’re also fighting-pit kin. No one will betray you. Right, lads?”

  “Dead on. We’re the Askavol Fighting Pit Battalion. We serve you ’cause you saved our lives.” Vlad spoke with the same fierce intensity that burned in his eyes. That boy had a lot of pent-up anger that needed channeling. Hopefully, once at Ilyseryph, Averin would take him in hand.

  “I don’t fancy the idea of serving you, Stasha, but you and I go back a long way.” Goul smiled wistfully. “I still remember the day Tarik and I met you and Klaus. He paid for your entrance into the pit. Remember?”

  As if she could forget. She and Klaus had been twelve, the age the Martka stopped giving out free meals at the orphanage. It had been days since she and Klaus had had a proper meal. They were in the forest, foraging for bark and berries, when a laughing boy named Tarik and his friend had offered to take them to a place where they’d get food. She and Klaus had followed Tarik and Goul in a blur.

  They’d ended up at the fighting pit in Teagarta.

  Tarik had paid their entrance fee. Once in the pit, he explained that if they wanted to eat, they’d have to learn to fight. It was, he’d told them, the only way orphans could survive.

  She’d watched that first fight with utter fascination. Then, much to Klaus’s horror, she’d stepped into the ring. She’d gone home that night with a split lip and a couple of coins.

  Tarik called each coin hope.

  After that, he’d become best friends with her and Klaus. Years later, she and Tarik had shared their first kiss. Her insides writhed with a mix of pain and pleasure. Would he really be happy if she gave her heart to someone new?

  “We could always raid the Sturgeon’s Roe kitchen for food.” Klaus grinned. “It’s exactly what Tarik would do.”

  It was. Her throat closed against that lump of happiness and pain. Regardless of what Klaus said, she wasn’t yet ready to relegate Tarik to the past.

  Goul wiped a hand across his furrowed brow. “Will the food enchant us?”

  Stasha shook her head. “I doubt it.”

  “Then let’s do it.” Feral Fox started toward the tavern.

  She grabbed his arm. “Not so fast. The longboat sounds simple in theory. In practice, if any of us touch the water, it will attack us.” She spat onto the road. “Care of King Darien, the tyrant.”

  “Fae boats attack humans if they touch the water?” Ivan snorted. “Weird. You learn something new every day.”

  She cracked a smile. “Not the boat, you dimwit. The water. And it will attack both humans and fae.”

  Ivan rolled his very ordinary speckled brown eyes. “Like there’s a big difference. In our world, inanimate things don’t attack people. Unless you’ve already forgotten, Fae Ears.”

  “Point taken.” She bowed to Ivan. “Just to clarify for our brilliant Ivan the Idiotic. Darien cursed the water against anyone not in Ocea at the time of his coronation. I figure that includes humans.” She grimaced. “Discovered that the hard way when Frea touched the water at the Laughing Pools, and we were almost boiled alive on our way to rescue you. I think the risk is bigger now for all of us. It puts the loch and the river off limits.”

  Ivan and Goul swore. Vlad’s glower deepened. Feral Fox scratched his grimy stubble with an even grimier fingernail. “Prince Averin must have had a plan for this, or he wouldn’t have brought us here.”

  “Yes. But things are different—”

  “We can manage the boat without us physically touching the water. The boys and me,” Feral Fox interrupted. “If Prince Averin and Eliezar can put a breath or two into the sails, we’ll make good progress.”

  That was possible. Yet— “Darien will anticipate that.” She waved her hands emphatically to ensure Feral Fox understood the dangers. He was at least twenty years older than her, so it was obvious that he’d want to lead. That was fine, but not when he didn’t understand the risks. “In fact, I think he’s counting on it. That’s why he didn’t kill Averin and the others with this stunt. He wants them alive to lure me onto the boat. Once on the loch, killing you all and capturing me will be dead easy. Water trumps fire every time.”

  Five sets of troubled eyes stared back at her.

  “Then what do you suggest,” Feral Fox finally wheezed. He looked mighty deflated.

  She shrugged. “Maybe we could find horses.” She glanced at Klaus. “And a cart.”

  Klaus folded his arms. “You’re not thinking straight.”

  She glared at
him. “I am too.”

  Klaus’s cold fingers brushed hers. “No, you aren’t. And this has nothing to do with my leg.”

  “Your point?” She jerked a finger at the sky. “Sun will be up soon. Talk.” She instantly regretted her sharpness. “Sorry. I’m just concerned.” She smiled wryly. “About all of us.”

  Klaus squeezed her hand. “That’s okay. It’s why I’m here. To help ease things. Remember, Averin said Swiftguard is on an island in the Black Loch. That means there’s no other way out of here except via water.”

  Her insides dropped so sharply, she swayed. No wonder Darien sounded convinced he’d win. She’d just have to use every ounce of magic she had—water included—to thwart him.

  That meant keeping a step ahead of Averin’s snapped commands on how and when to use her magic. No small challenge given that he was a prince used to issuing orders and being obeyed.

  She clutched at her pendant. Please, please, she whispered to the tree, don’t let this be the moment my bargain explodes in my face.

  There was no reply.

  She pulled her back straight, refusing to give into despair. “Then the loch it is. Let’s get that food.”

  Stasha and the Askavol battalion walked through the sleeping fae to the Sturgeon’s Roe on their food-gathering mission. She refused to believe that they wouldn’t survive long enough to eat that food.

  The silence hanging over everything was absolute and the atmosphere menacing enough to pebble her skin with goose bumps. She wasn’t sorry to reach the inn’s heavy, age-blackened front door. It stood open.

  Vlad elbowed her aside and shot past her. “We don’t know what’s in there, so I’m going in first.”

  She snorted a laugh and clipped the back of his head. “You forget that I can also whip your butt with my hands tied behind my back.”

  “But you wouldn’t, would you?” He graced her with a rare smile. It lightened his face, and, for a moment, he was handsome. “If anyone looks out for their own, it’s you.”

 

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