The Chronicles of Lorrek Box Set

by Kelly Blanchard

  Still holding the first one on her fingertip, Vixen looked at the man with bewilderment, but he nodded at the lens. “These are contact lenses. They have been engineered to identify the different Guardians. Put them in your eyes, and you will see the difference.”

  Disliking the idea of having anything in her eyes but knowing there was nothing she could do, she took a deep breath then carefully lifted the lens to her eye and fitted it on her eyeball. After a few blinks, she adapted to it well enough to accept the other lens and place it in her other eye. Blinking, she adjusted to them and looked around.

  Nothing looked different.

  Then she set her eyes on the Guardians at the back of the room, and she saw a green hue around them.

  Nodding her thanks to the scientists, she began to move away from the table when voices rose behind her, and she spun around—her hands at her vest ready to unsheathe several blades. Her eyes locked onto Ardenn, who had approached the table and was now struggling against a Guardian while Ceras and Mel’Nath shouted for them to release her.

  “What are you doing?” Ceras grabbed the lead scientist by the arm and spun him around to face her, digging her fingernails into his skin but not breaking the skin yet. “Let her go!”

  The man shook his head and lifted his hand to his ear to summon more backup. “Code Sigma in Operation Room 1020.” Then he set his full attention on Ceras. “Ardenn is a humanoid—a Guardian who escape over a decade ago. She will be restrained and sent to a holding cell.”

  “What?!” Ceras screeched.

  “Mama?” Ardenn tried to shove the guards hands off her, but they began dragging her away. “Mother!”

  “Let her go!” Mel’Nath unholstered his gun and pointed it at the head of the lead scientist. “I raised that girl myself.”

  “And she is my daughter—not a machine.” Ceras reached her hand up to her silver pearl necklace, and Vixen realized what she was about to do.

  “Ceras...” she warned, but more Guardians burst into the room.

  “Everyone, on the ground!” They pointed their weapons at those gathered, and Vixen rolled her eyes.

  “Seriously?” She happened to lock eye contact with Lorrek, who smiled the slightest at her sarcastic remark, but she turned her attention from him to the Guardians. “You expect a room full of assassins to drop to the floor like a bunch of average people? You must be joking.” She unsheathed several blades and lowered herself into a fighting stance.

  The sounds of guns being unholstered and swords being unsheathed filled the room until all the Hunters were armed and targeting the Guardians, guards, and scientists—and enemy assassins and thieves, should they decide to open fire.

  Somewhere in the room, Tobias whispered loud enough for Aden to hear. “You know, ever since we met him,” he jutted his chin at Lorrek across the way, “we’ve had more of these standoffs.”

  “Consider it his gift.” Aden never took his eyes off the Guardians as he poised holding his sword in a backhanded fashion ready for the fighting to begin.

  “We’re not going to accept him into our group, are we?” Tobias shot him a quick glance before focusing on the guards again.

  Aden shook his head. “Not likely.”

  “Good, because I didn’t really want to add him to the group, and I—”

  “Tobias.”

  “Yes, boss?”

  For a moment Aden didn’t move, but finally he tore his eyes off his target to glare at the youngest thief in his group. “Be quiet.”

  Tobias opened his mouth to reply but realize that would require him talking, so he shut his mouth and nodded then refocused on the threat around them.

  “So...” Ceras drew everyone’s attention to herself as she rolled between her fingers a pearl of her necklace. A single tug and the beads would all cascade into her hand, and all she would have to do was pinch a bead to unleash a poisonous gas. She rubbed one pearl but set her determined eyes on the guards still restraining Ardenn. Tilting her head to the side, she tried to be pleasant with a smile. “What will it be? Shall we begin the Crucibles now?”

  “No.” Asalda passed the Guardians at the door and entered the room. All the assassins steered clear of her but pegged her as yet another target. However, she remained unperturbed by all of this and moved to the center of the room with a confident step, shoulders back, and head high.

  Halting before Ceras, she looked at the woman then shook her head, reaching out to Ceras’s hand and lowering it. “No need for such dramatics, my dear.” She shot the Guardians, who were restraining Ardenn, a hard look. “Release her.”

  Once freed, Ardenn shrugged off their hands and stepped away, glaring back at them, disgusted, before moving to stand between her mother and Mel’Nath.

  Asalda nodded, pleased. “There. You see, no need for bloodshed.” She glimpsed at the Hunters around her who were still armed and tense. “Stand down—all of you.” She looked back at Ceras. “We can resolve this as civilized people, so why don’t you come with me, and we will clear up any confusion.” She motioned for Ceras to follow, but the assassin remained unmoved.

  “Ardenn is not a Guardian.”

  “I understand.” Asalda smiled and brought her delicate hands together. “You see? All of this is a simple misunderstanding. Despite all our technology, we still make mistakes sometimes. It was a simple glitch in the system, I assure you. If you would just follow me, we can go to the processing room and clear up this matter immediately.”

  Mel’Nath cocked his gun at Asalda’s head. “I don’t trust you.”

  “And that is your right, but the alternative is much worse. There are five Guardians in this room. One of them has the ability to block magic users’ reach into the magic realm and use it against them, and another manipulates metal. The other three...well, we only need those first two to handicap a lot of you, and I would much rather not go through that. As I said, this is a simple mistake—easily fixed by a trip to the processing room, so if none of you mind...”

  No one stood down.

  Ceras shared a glance with Mel’Nath and still refused to lower her guard.

  Ardenn realized how badly this could end, and she didn’t want to be responsible for anything happening to her friends. She stepped forward and placed her fingertips on Mel’Nath hand, pushing his gun down, then looked at Ceras. “It’s just a simple trip to the processing room.”

  Ceras shook her head—never taking her eyes off Asalda. “No—they’re going to try and take you from me again, and I won’t allow that.” Finally, she tore her gaze from Asalda and cast Ardenn a look pleading for her to understand.

  Her daughter gave her a small encouraging smile. “Well, if we go with them and we know it’s a trap, then we will at least have room to maneuver and fight back without getting all our other friends killed.” She glanced around the room. “Please, Mama, I don’t want anyone to get hurt on my behalf.”

  “I wouldn’t mind it!” Tobias volunteered from across the room, but Aden whacked him on the back of his head, silencing him.

  Observing the interaction among the thieves and assassins, Asalda admired their dedication to one another then turned to face Ceras, Ardenn, and Mel’Nath fully—as equals. “All three of you may come.”

  Vixen almost stepped forward to demand she come along too, but she knew if something went wrong, the only ones who could help the most were Haiken and the other rebel Guardians. She needed to be ready to hunt one of them down in order to relay to them news of the latest emergency, so she forced herself to remain still by gripping her blades a little tighter. She didn’t like any of this.

  Mel’Nath looked down at Ceras. Though he preferred to be as far away from any Jechorians as possible, he refused to let these two women out of his sight. With a sigh, he nodded and holstered his gun, and Ceras relaxed her stance, straightening into a more natural standing posture.

  Relieved that they agreed, Ardenn suppressed a smile then turned to Asalda. “Where is the processing room?”

&nb
sp; “Right this way.” Gesturing for them to follow, Asalda turned and left the room, but the Guardians still lingered near Ardenn, her mother, and her protector.

  “Be careful,” Vixen warned as they headed after Asalda.

  Ceras looked over her shoulder to her good friend and smiled. “Always.”

  Once they left, everyone reluctantly put away their weapons and turned to the scientists to resume the upgrade process.

  Vixen moved away from the tables and went to the door to watch the retreating forms of Ceras and the others. She didn’t trust Asalda. She remembered the woman from back during Loroth’s operation, and she hadn’t trusted her then either. However, she seemed reasonable and logical and had presented a way to resolve the situation while avoiding bloodshed. Vixen trusted in Ceras, Ardenn, and Mel’Nath’s ability to protect themselves, and if something were to happen at least they knew they had friends nearby.

  She sensed someone approach her from behind but thought nothing of it.

  “Vixen!” Aden’s alarmed voice spun her around—right in time to see Lorrek falter mid-step as he approached her and stared at her.

  She saw the moment her name registered in his brain, and she narrowed her eyes. “Wonderful, Aden! I knew you would be the death of me, but I didn’t think it would be because you would give me away while I stood right in front of the man sent to kill me!” She shot him a glare but then looked back at Lorrek—her body tense and her fingers flexed, ready to snatch any dagger from her vest.

  “He didn’t already know you?” Aden shot back, his hand at the hilt of his sword so that he could unsheathe it at the slightest movement from Lorrek.

  “He does now.” She never took her eyes off Lorrek but felt anxiety build within herself, readying her ability to fight or flee.

  Lorrek stared at her.

  All around them the Hunters shifted with unease as uncertainty lingered in the air. Hands itched for their weapons.

  Across the room Tobias nudged Lyston. “Standoff number four coming up?”

  Lyston jabbed Tobias hard in the ribcage with his elbow, earning a yelp from his friend, but he ignored him and stayed focused on Vixen and Lorrek—his bow already in hand and fingers reaching to grab an arrow from his back quiver.

  Lorrek stared down at her. “You are Vixen?”

  “Aye.” Vixen nodded but then smirked up at him. “But you’re not going to kill me—at least not right now.”

  He frowned. “And why not?”

  Vixen only smiled and stepped back—just as her father magicked behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She nodded at Lorrek, and then Sirros magicked her away.

  Lorrek remained where he stood and stared at the empty place where she had been. Now he knew her appearance, her features—attitude. How confident she must be to know his quest to find and kill her but still walk up and start a conversation with him. Otherwise, she was utterly foolish.

  Still musing, he turned back to the room and found several guns and arrows pointed at him. He cocked his head, unimpressed. “I believe we’ve already affirmed the fact that none of your weapons will harm me.” With that, he left. He had much to ponder.

  Sirros and Vixen reappeared in a random corridor not too far away, and Sirros grabbed his daughter by her shoulders and looked at her hard. “What were you thinking?!” He wanted to shake her. “He could have killed you!”

  With a simple defensive move, bringing her hands up between her father’s arms and flinging her hands out, she forced him to release his grip on her, and she stepped back with a hand on her hip. “He wouldn’t kill me.”

  “How could you be so sure?” Sirros threw his hands into the air then began pacing. Back and forth with sharp steps, he tried to contain his fury at the situation but kept shooting her glares only to look away, shaking his head in disbelief. “You have always been so stubborn. It’s almost as if you truly believe you are immortal. Being an assassin should have taught you better.” He wagged his finger at her only to turn away and resume pacing.

  “If being an assassin taught me anything, it was how mortal we are, and how short life is. I knew what I was doing, Papa.”

  He shook his head and let out a small chuckle as the sound of hastened footsteps approached them. He fixed a glare on Vixen. “You never know what you are doing.” As he said this, Nyvera rounded the corner and slowed in relief that both her husband and her daughter were safe. Sirros seemed grateful to see her as well and motioned toward Vixen again. “Nyvera, talk sense into our daughter! She is going to get herself killed.”

  Vixen ground her teeth and curled her hands into fists, but she tried her very best not to sigh or roll her eyes. She respected her father—she really did, and she appreciated all he had taught her during her training as an assassin. However, there were times when he would not listen to reason. That was when her mother always stepped in, and if they could not resolve it with words, they resorted to a sparring match.

  Vixen looked at her mother. “I don’t have time for this. I’ve survived this long. I don’t need a bunch of protectors. Lorrek won’t kill me.”

  “And why are you so sure?” Nyvera crossed her arms and stood her ground.

  “Because,” Vixen shrugged, “I’ll kill him first.” She couldn’t believe she just said that. The last thing she wanted to do was kill Lorrek, but she did want answers, and to get answers she needed to get close to Lorrek. To do that, she didn’t need any overbearing protectors trailing her every step. She opened her mouth to remind them of her accomplishments as an assassin.

  “Vix!”

  At the sound of Mel’Nath’s pained voice, Vixen looked up and gasped at the sight of the thief—bloodied and bruised—bracing himself against the wall for support and holding his side where blood seeped from a wound. “Mel!” Vixen hastened to him but hesitated to touch him, not knowing where he was hurt.

  Looking over his condition, she concluded he had been beaten, so she frowned and snapped her fiery eyes to his face. “Who did this? Where are Ceras and Ardenn?”

  He tried to take a breath, only to wince and press his hand into his side. Once the pain subsided, he jerked his head back in the direction where he came from. “They took them.”

  Vixen placed a hand on his shoulder to get his attention and searched out his eyes. “Mel, who is ‘they’?”

  He grimaced. “Guardians, Asalda’s people—them! I tried to fight them off as best I could, but...” He gestured to himself.

  With a nod, Vixen pulled back and considered the situation while her father stepped forward with his hands already glowing to heal Mel’Nath.

  Nyvera recognized the look in her daughter’s eyes. “You know where they took them.”

  Vixen snapped her gaze over to her mother then realized what she said and shook her head. “No.” But she straightened. “But I think I might know where Ardenn will end up if they think she is a rebel Guardian, and I am going to find Ceras. Get Mel’Nath back to the others.” She headed down the corridor.

  “Don’t cross paths with Lorrek!” Sirros shouted after her.

  She turned around but continued walking backwards as she spread her arms out. “I’ll be with Guardians, Papa. I’ll be safe.” With that, she spun around and hastened away.

  He narrowed his eyes as he watched her go, and then he felt a pair of eyes on him and looked, only to see Nyvera standing there with her arms crossed, staring at him.

  “You just imprinted her with your magic, didn’t you?”

  A small smile crossed his face. “You know me too well.”

  Nyvera only gave him a look. “She can take care of herself.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Sirros shrugged as he turned his attention back to Mel’Nath. “She’s still my little girl.”

  Mel’Nath grunted and wiped the blood off his mouth with the back of his hand. “I think I know what you mean, Sir. No matter how well they can defend themselves or how old they get, you still don’t want anything to happen to them.”

  Nyvera wat
ched her husband heal the thief’s wounds and decided to keep him talking to distract him. “You care greatly for Ardenn.”

  “Like a daughter.” He nodded.

  She smiled. “We’ll get her back—both of them.”

  “I know.” Mel’Nath bobbed his head then lowered his gaze to the floor. He had failed them, and he hated that feeling.

  19

  In Athorim, Caleth finally withdrew from the realm of magic when he sensed his sister approaching. He didn’t move from where he stood at the open window of his chambers gazing out when she knocked on the door. “Enter.” He still stared across the desert horizon beyond the black walls of the city.

  Anelm closed the door silently behind herself then faced her brother, folding her hands in front of her—waiting for the acknowledgement of the king.

  Still Caleth did not turn, but as he stared across the distant land he reflected on his sister and how her time in Serhon had changed her. She was always meek and humble—the quieter of the two of them. The magic dwelling within her gave her an acute awareness of the souls of others—their motives, thoughts, intentions, and what drove them. Caleth—given more to physical strength and quick wit—had learned patience and the art of crafting words with care from Anelm, and he always treasured her advice.

  When Roskelem had specifically requested Anelm as a negotiator to determine the long-lasting peace between the kingdoms, Caleth had been suspicious, having never trusted Roskelem. The brother and sister had explored other options in the realm of magic, but this one appeared the safest, so Anelm insisted she go, and Caleth let her.

  Then she didn’t return.

  Through their sibling bond before Roskelem blocked her magic with a spell, Anelm sent him a brief image of her conditions, and Caleth had risen in rage, ready to wage war on Serhon. However, Lorentha—the former queen of Cuskelom who had found refuge in Athorim—stayed his hand and calmed him, and Prince Lorrek arrived soon thereafter.

  Caleth was grateful that the lost prince had found and freed his sister, but when Anelm told him the price had been his own liberty and memory, Caleth did not know what to think.