The Winged Assassin

by Gwynn White

Her nose, fingers, and toes ached from the cold. They’d drop off at this rate. Shivering, she reached into her core to summon a flame to warm herself. Her fire magic snoozed in a watery embrace. Hey, she chided, some warmth would be good, or I might lose my fingers.

  Her water magic yawned. We don’t do hand muffs. Haven’t you learned that already? No shields, no messages, and no hand muffs.

  Klaus must have seen her scowl. He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “If it wasn’t so cold, I’d call this place beautiful.” He pointed a chapped hand at the frozen waterfall that marked the Zephyr border with Atria. It glowed an unearthly blue.

  “It won’t be long now before we reach it,” Trystaen said. Despite the horror he’d encountered in the catacombs, he was surprisingly chipper.

  How many centuries had it taken him to find peace? She could barely think of Tarik without anger twisting her heart. Yet, somehow, this gentle, clever fae had overcome his fury to stand with his head held high. So had Eliezar. She glanced at Averin striding along the ice. Like her, he had a long way to go to be rid of his demons.

  Boa was another fae whose anger burned unceasingly. It was enough to melt the world. Forgiveness didn’t seem like something Boa did, not even for her own sake. Maybe even not for the sake of her people.

  Perhaps every fae kingdom was corrupt in its own way. Pyreack slaughtered and pillaged until there was nothing left and not a soul still breathing who could tell the stories.

  Ocea’s keys were in the hands of a tyrant, and their princess was fueled by hate.

  Atria… Her stomach soured. She’d seen Atria’s underbelly. It had even corrupted humans like the Martka and Kňazer.

  Only time would tell what rot may have taken root in Zephyr.

  “Help me take my mind off the cold,” Klaus called out. “Can someone tell me why this river is called the Topaz Run?”

  Averin turned to smile at Klaus, then slowed to join her, Klaus, and Trystaen. Unlike her and the battalion, Averin and the other fae seemed to thrive in the cold. Each stride took him, Suren, and Eliezar a little further ahead than the rest of the group. Their grip on the ice never faltered. Trystaen probably only kept pace with her so she and Klaus could be together. “It’s named after the color of the water,” Averin said. “You’ll see it in spring, when the ice finally melts.”

  Stasha bit the inside of her mouth. Would her training take long enough to see winter come and go?

  Averin didn’t seem to notice her quiet contemplation. He pointed at the frozen blue waterfall. “That water comes from the mountains that ring Ilyseryph. It’s the freshest you’ll find anywhere outside of Ocea. Before the war began, Atria and Zephyr used to squabble over ownership of Topaz Run.” He shook his head. “I wish our fights were still as stupid and pointless. Life would be a whole lot easier.” A dark shadow clouded his eyes.

  Vlad slithered over to join Stasha. He grabbed her cloak to steady himself. “I’ve been thinking, and I have a question.”

  “Thinking?” Ivan laughed. “That would be a first.”

  Vlad punched Ivan in the kidney Poor Ivan flinched and cried out. Stasha scrunched her face in sympathy. Why were boys so rough? Feral Fox and Suren reached Vlad at the same moment. Feral Fox swatted the side of Vlad’s head while Suren tugged his arm. “Apologize,” Feral Fox snapped.

  Face red, Vlad glowered at Ivan and mumbled, “Sorry.”

  Ivan nodded mutely, but from his scowl, he didn’t seem appeased. Maybe fae weren’t the only ones who couldn’t get along.

  “A question, you say, Master Vlad?” Averin spoke as if the scuffle hadn’t happened. “Ask away.”

  Vlad’s face cooled to the same blue pinching everyone’s features. “Do all fae have special powers like the Falsefinder’s?”

  “Good question.” Averin huffed a chuckle. “Not all fae share the same level of magic. Some have more. Some have less. A few come up with what are known as obscure magics. These are additional skills that match the fae’s natural powers. Like the Falsefinder. Or Calarel smelling magic. Or Eliezar’s ability to talk to magic.”

  “Speaking to animals is a fairly common one in Pyreack,” Suren said, almost wistfully. He’d wrapped his arm around Vlad’s shoulder. “My youngest sister, Keerla, would spend the entire day chatting with the chickens. Used to drive our mother mad.” His chocolate-brown eyes softened. Vlad slipped his arm around Suren and gave him a quick squeeze before pulling away to glare at Feral Fox and Ivan.

  Feral Fox’s bushy eyebrows furrowed, but he said nothing. Deep in thought on how tough raising Vlad was, her feet slid out from under her.

  Strong hands grabbed her before she could hit the ice. Averin’s delicious scent enveloped her. With his chest pressed into her back, he didn’t let go even after she’d found her footing. She couldn’t help but sigh and lean into him. He brushed a gentle kiss onto the back of her head, raising goosebumps on her neck. “I see fae grace is still lost on you, pit princess.”

  She tried to scowl but could do nothing to stop the blush that tore through her. “What I lack in grace I make up for in insufferable confidence. It makes people think I fall on my butt on purpose.”

  Averin’s chest rumbled with laughter against her. “I’m sure you do.” His hands fell away, and he stepped back. As she turned to face him, a powerful shock pinged her magic.

  Entwined, fire and water raced through her veins. Her head snapped up. The clouds blanketing the tips of the Atrian mountain on the left riverbank darkened, the slight purple hue turning gray, then quickly inching towards black.

  A thread of fire shot from her chest, just as it had in the temple in Ocea when the Pyreack spiriting readers had found them. It snaked toward the dark mountain.

  Averin’s smile vanished. “Do we have readers on our tail?”

  The thread of fire throbbed. “They’re coming. Pyreack are here. They’re moving fast.”

  Everyone stared at the mountains, but there was nothing to see.

  Averin swore. “They must have figured we’d reappear on this side of the range.”

  Something sharp and hard hit her fiery thread. She flinched as it tugged and bounced back, sending a mass of different messages spinning through her.

  Averin grabbed her shoulders. “How many of them?”

  She shook her head, trying to get a count from the spiriting threads. But they kept splitting as more Pyreack soldiers landed. “Too many. An army.”

  Averin drew his sword. The fine steel hissed as he pulled it from the sheath. Eliezar and Suren followed. With Klaus on his back, Trystaen was the only one to stand weaponless.

  “Trystaen, must I climb off?” Klaus’s voice squeaked.

  Trystaen shook his head. “I’ve got my magic. Safest place for you is on my back.”

  “We all have some magic,” Averin added. “It’ll have to do.”

  Stasha’s heart thudded as more and more spiriting trails rebounded off the mountain to strike her thread. “There are too many of them. With more arriving all the time.” She grabbed Averin’s arm. “Can’t you spirit us to Zephyr?”

  Averin shook his head. “I don’t have enough magic.”

  A plume of blue fire shot into the sky above the mountain. A green jet followed. Stasha’s heart sunk. If the Pyreack had firepower to waste in sending up flares, it had to be a boast of worse things to come.

  “Only white heat can counter that much magic.” Her voice spiked. “And mine’s still locked away.”

  Averin grunted. “Run. Run for the border.”

  Vlad and Ivan didn’t need to be told twice. They took off across the ice, sliding more than running. Feral Fox followed, Suren and Eliezar flanking him.

  Trystaen hesitated for a moment, then bolted after them with Klaus bobbing on his back. She and Averin brought up the rear. Her boots slid on the ice, and she fought for grip. “How far to the border?”

  “At least two miles.”

  Flames roared, and war drums pounded on the mountain.

  Feral Fo
x looked back. His feet sailed out from under him, and he slammed onto the ice. Moaning, he struggled to stand. Eliezar helped him up while Suren stood guard. His sword glinted silver and then blue as another burst of fire lit the sky. Feral Fox took a couple of hobbling steps. And yet more spiriting threads pinged her magic as Pyreack landed on the mountain. The battalion would never make it to the border in time.

  “Stasha, orphan child from Askoval.” King Darien’s familiar voice lilted through the air. Sweet as drizzled honey, it made her flinch. “You’ve lost one of your friends already. Do you want to see the rest of their burnt bodies floating down the Topaz Run? Is more death to follow you? Is this really what you want?”

  She snarled, and her magic surged through her skin. Steam rose from the fire burning her open palms. She clenched her fists and dropped back to run a few paces behind Averin.

  That hateful king sighed. “Wouldn’t it just be better if you gave yourself up now to avoid the inevitable?”

  “Seems like he didn’t get my message,” she gritted out.

  “Don’t listen to him,” Averin snapped. “The coward isn’t even here. It’s just a projected message.”

  “Surrender now, Stasha. Return to Pyreack in peace, where you belong.”

  Her body quaked with anger. “Your soldiers will be the ones burnt to a crisp, floating like fish bait, Darien!” Perhaps a pointless threat but at least it kept her hopes up.

  Her fire magic whooped. Yes! Fry them! A shaft of flame as tall as the ones the Pyreack had blasted off shot out of her hand. She almost fell flat on her face with shock.

  No, pick me! Her water magic thrashed in her core like a fish on land. No more of its steam clouded the air. The tree must have clamped a lid it on its escape plan. Drown them instead.

  A tongue of flame slapped the water. Knock it off. I was here first.

  Stasha screeched and grabbed her head. “Would you just shut up, and let me think!”

  Both magics stilled, entangled in each other.

  Averin shot her a sideways glance. “Everything okay?”

  She ignored him.

  That was rather rude, her fire snapped. Not just to us, but to your prince.

  I’m with my brother on this, her water magic added. That was nasty. You’re lucky we’re so nice.

  To add to the craziness, the thrum of war drums vibrated the ice beneath her feet.

  The sharp wind swirling from Averin’s hand caught the falling snowflakes into a whirlwind that exposed the blue ice covering the river. It was no more than a few inches thick.

  Could it hold them and the Pyreack army?

  “Stasha, look.” Averin raised his sword behind them. She looked where he pointed and gasped.

  A host of Pyreack soldiers streamed down the mountainside like fire ants. Their red uniforms spread across the snow like the blood splatter from a well-thrown punch in the fighting pits. The gold thread linking her to them snapped and recoiled into her chest.

  The army had arrived.

  No more than half a mile away, at the speed the Pyreack were moving, they’d soon be upon her and everyone she loved. Without her white heat, against a force so large, they didn’t stand a chance.

  Desperate for a plan, she cast around—and then it came to her: the drums.

  What if she also sent a massive vibration through the ice, one that cracked it down the middle and tipped the Pyreack army into the river? That would slow them up for long enough to get everyone into Zephyr.

  Yes, yes! Unleash us! her magic shouted together.

  She grimaced, trying to ignore them. The plan wasn’t without risk. To be targeted and effective, she’d have to use her water magic. Also, she and the team could end up in the water. If they did, it would carry them away from Zephyr. Also, the humans risked freezing to death. The fae males could counter that by helping them to shore. She’d have to take care of herself.

  “Vlad,” she yelled. “Can you swim?”

  “Yes. But I don’t want to,” he yelped back.

  “You might have to.” She stopped running and spun to face the oncoming army with both hands raised to the sky. “Trystaen, keep Klaus close to you. Everyone, be ready to swim if my plan goes wrong.”

  “Stasha?” Arms windmilling, Averin skated to a stop next to her. “What are you doing?”

  “Run for the border,” she commanded. “Make sure Klaus and the battalion get over safely.”

  “Absolutely not. You’re not trained in—”

  “I wasn’t asking for permission.” She glared at him. “Getting my friends into Zephyr in once piece is your job. Let me do mine.”

  Averin snarled and snapped his canines. “I’ll throw you over my shoulder and run you to Zephyr myself.”

  “Try it, and you’ll end up flat on your ass with your hair singed off.” To prove her point, she fired two streamers of flame at him. As she’d intended, they stopped an inch from his nose. She puffed her chest out. Eliezar would have been so proud of her control if he’d been there to see it, but he had his hands full helping Ivan across the ice.

  Anger flashed in Averin’s eyes, but he didn’t touch her. “I’m staying here to help you.”

  No! Averin couldn’t be here. Not for what she planned. “You have to help Feral Fox swim if he falls into the water. Vlad is with Suren. Trystaen has Klaus, and Eliezar can help Ivan. Feral Fox needs you.”

  Eliezar must have looked back. “Averin. Stasha. Do you need help?”

  “No.” Averin’s voice was uncompromising. “Keep Ivan and Feral Fox close. Get everyone safely into Zephyr. Stasha and I have got this.” Feet planted firmly on the ice, he lifted his sword in one hand and a spiral of air magic in the other. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t know what you’re planning, pit princess, but it better be good.”

  Stubborn prince.

  She sucked in a cold breath. How was she going to pull this off without alerting Averin to her water magic? She inched back to just behind Averin’s peripheral vision. “Have a little faith.”

  The war drums thrummed louder. The soldiers weren’t bothering to march to its beat. They charged across the frozen river toward them. Clearly, the fire had been for show. The real killing would happen at the edge of the swords that glinted in their hands. That made sense, when fire would melt the ice they all stood on.

  Blood pounding in her ears, she watched them come. Timing was everything for what she planned. For it to work, the entire Pyreack army had to be down from the mountain and on the ice.

  Averin’s wind twisted snow into the air and hurled it at the oncoming wave. The fae ran straight through it. “Far be it for me to tell you what to do, pit princess, but I thought you had a plan.” He scooped up more snow and chucked it at the soldiers.

  “No, stop. Let them come.” She flexed her fingers as the last of the Pyreack army thundered onto the Topaz Run. “Just a few more seconds.”

  Her water magic whooped. I’m ready to go!

  “Stasha, whatever you’re going to do, do it now.”

  She crouched and placed both hands flat on the ice. Cold shocked through her fingers.

  Fire on the surface of the ice to fool Averin. Water beneath it. Now!

  Fire streaked across the ice, leaving a thin watery trail in its wake. Meanwhile, her water magic surged through the ice, quickly reaching the swift-flowing river beneath the crust. It bounced against the stony bottom before hurtling back up to strike the ice. But instead of hitting it a dozen yards away from where she and Averin stood as she’d planned, the exuberant magic jolted her boots.

  She swore as, quick as lightning, a crack zigzagged out from beneath her toward the Pyreack. Starting at her boots, ice rumbled and snapped open along the line weakened by her fire. She was the first to hit the freezing topaz-blue water. The cold knocked the breath from her lungs.

  So much for being in control of her magic.

  Averin followed. From the yelling coming from the Pyreack, the chasm had reached them, and they were also flounde
ring in the water.

  Caught in a strong current, she rushed downstream toward the Pyreack. She thrashed in the wild water to get to the bank, but the current jostled her into slabs of melting ice. Just a few feet away, a wave hit her and sucked her under before she could even rasp in a breath. Her foot snagged on a rock, and her all her precious air bubbled from her nose. Lungs burning, she wrenched her foot free, only to have the current spin her like a top.

  It thrust her against a boulder, and her head broke the surface. She sucked in a large breath and had just enough time to make out a few figures bobbing in the water ahead of her before she was slurped back down again.

  She kicked furiously, but the force dragging her to the enemy was too strong. Tears pricked that she was racing right into their hands.

  She was about to call on her water magic for help when something grabbed her braid. Tugged to a painful stop, she cried out, only to be dragged upstream by her hair.

  “Averin!” She tried spinning to see him but was rocked by the current she was powering against. Spitting water, she snarled, “Let go of my braid.”

  He didn’t reply.

  “I’ll deck you when this is done.” Her face dipped under the water, but Averin didn’t release his grip. What was wrong with him? Was he trying to drown her?

  She jerked up out of the water, straight into the air, only to be tossed onto a rock. Her fingers grasped snow. It melted at her touch. She gasped and coughed, her lungs stinging with the bliss of air… and the stench of dead things so strong, decay seemed to cling to her tongue. Her eyes shot open. Though the blur, a tall, thin, terrifyingly familiar and dripping-wet figure stood over her.

  The Tiyanak.

  Saying nothing— not even to bare his horrible fish-like teeth—he bounded into the pine trees rimming the riverbank.

  She blinked. Had she truly seen him? His stink on the wind shouted the proof.

  She flopped back onto the rock. The Tiyanak had been following her. He’d saved her from the Pyreack without asking for anything in return—not even payment of the debt she owed him. She shivered, and not just because she was frozen—whatever he wanted from her had to be huge if he couldn’t risk her falling into Darien’s hands.