by K. A. Linde
The first man narrowed his eyes. “Which direction did you come from? There are no villages within five leagues of here.”
Cyrene smiled. Of course there weren’t. She used earth magic to sweep them off their feet. Then she pulled their voices away when they cried out. Her air magic shoved them into the stone walls and easily dropped them to the ground. It took all of five seconds. She was getting pretty good at that. If only all battles were won this easily.
She daintily stepped over the two guards and walked into the viper’s nest. She held her magic tight to her. This was the now-or-never part of her plan. And there was no guarantee that it would work. But she had Sarielle at her back and Dean waiting in the wings. She could do this.
Everyone’s attention was focused on the Honorary and where she stood with the Commander that they didn’t notice anyone walking into their midst until she was halfway into the room. While they were on guard, they simply hadn’t anticipated anyone walking into a Guild meeting. They had underestimated Avoca, too, that time she’d fought one of their own. Somehow, that all felt so long ago.
A man to her left called out in surprise and then tried to reach for her. But she had a shield around her body. He harmlessly bounced off it, and she continued walking. She’d perfected shields in Kinkadia, and though she knew it wouldn’t last forever, it certainly made a spectacle.
By the time she reached the Honorary, everyone’s attention was on her.
The Honorary glared at her. “You.”
“Hello, Joselie,” Cyrene said with a grin.
“You dare use my name?”
“It seems so.”
“Kill her,” she demanded.
A few people shuffled around her, but no one could get close enough to do anything of the sort. An arrow whizzed straight to her face. It bounced off the shield and fell uselessly. Murmurs filled the ruined room.
“We can cut down shields, as you surely know,” the Honorary said.
She flicked her wrist, and Cyrene’s shield disappeared.
She’d been anticipating that.
“Now, Commander,” Cyrene said.
And he slowly rose to his considerable height. The ropes that had been around his wrists and ankles fell to the floor. And she watched him reach for his previously bound magic.
“What are you doing, spitfire?” he ground out.
The Honorary just looked irritated. “We can easily subdue him again. And now, we can hand you over. What a coveted prize, Cyrene of the Doma.”
“I do like when my reputation precedes me,” Cyrene said. She took a step closer. “But I do not believe that you can subdue him as easily this time. He is the most powerful of you.” She cocked her head to the side. “And I think that you know it.”
Another arrow zoomed toward Cyrene. She brushed it aside with her air magic, letting it bury into the earth inches before the Honorary.
The Honorary opened her mouth to respond, but she never got the chance. A roar split the air, and everyone looked to the skies. Fear was evident among the group for the first time since Cyrene had ever met them.
The Commander’s gray eyes shot to hers. “I hope that belongs to you.”
Cyrene just smiled as Sarielle and Halcyon zipped across the sky. Guild members began to scramble backward to the sides of the building. Some even tried to escape. Screams rose in the air as the dragons circled back and shot fire from their jaws, cutting off both exits.
The Guild erupted. They moved into action as terror took over from a threat to their lives.
The Honorary glared. “How dare you defile our sacred grounds!” She withdrew a sword and came toward Cyrene with all the force of her magic behind it.
Cyrene desperately missed Shadowbreaker, but she had no choice but to face her without it. Except that the Commander jumped into the Honorary’s path. The Honorary’s top goons tried to round on Cyrene, but she blasted her own fire magic in a circle around them, effectively closing them off from the rest of the battle.
The Honorary’s and Commander’s magic collided with a force like a hurricane. They battled back and forth, each trying to get a grip on the weapon. Then the Commander whirled and dropped his hand down on her wrist. Cyrene heard the crunch and winced. It only took a second for her fingers to release the sword as she cradled her broken wrist. The Commander scooped up the fallen sword and held it to the Honorary’s neck.
“Tell me who you work for,” he demanded, cool and calm.
The Honorary just laughed. “Kill me, and another will rise up.”
“Who is the assassin in charge?”
A smile curled the Honorary’s lips, and then she spat on the Commander.
The Commander pushed the blade harder against her throat. “Tell me.”
“Never. You’ll have to kill me.”
“Commander,” Cyrene shouted over the screams of the Guild members. “We have to go.”
“No,” he roared. “Tell me! Who is it? How does this person control our order?”
Then Sarielle dipped in low, seeing the circle of fire as the signal, and she carefully scooped the Commander up in her talons and carried him away. Cyrene took off running, ignoring the shouts from the Honorary. But Halcyon was coming in. Cyrene propelled herself into the air, using her magic to hold her aloft, and she felt another magic mix with hers, pushing her even higher until she could scramble onto Halcyon’s leg.
Dean reached a hand down, and they locked wrists. He hoisted her up Halcyon’s side until she was seated in front of him. Then Halcyon vaulted skyward, and they left the Guild and Isola behind.
Twenty minutes later, Halcyon set down in an empty valley still half-covered in frost. Kell was so far north that it remained frozen so much longer than the rest of Emporia.
Cyrene jumped down from Halcyon and rushed toward Sarielle, who had just released the Commander. He rose to his feet, looking as formidable as she had ever seen him.
“You,” he ground out. “You ruined everything.”
Cyrene startled into stillness. “I saved your life. You’re welcome. Don’t mention it.”
“Saved my life?” He laughed. “Did I look like I was in any real danger? I disarmed Joselie with hardly any effort. Can’t you see that I wanted to be caught? I’ve been working for this moment for months. I was just about to find out who the hell the Guild had been working for, and then you miraculously saved me,” he sneered.
“Well, let me save you the trouble,” she spat back. Her own anger blossoming. “Her name is Malysa, and she is the goddess of destruction. Trust me, you don’t want to meet her.”
The Commander furrowed his brows. “How could you know that?”
“Because I’ve gone up against her. And she’s recruiting.”
“No, it can’t be a goddess. They said she was an assassin. The ultimate assassin. Not some goddess.”
Cyrene sighed, putting the pieces together. She glanced to Dean as he approached. He nodded.
“That must be Wara. She’s a Braj.”
“Braj?” the Commander asked. “Aren’t those just a tale?”
“Did you not just ride with my dragon, Sarielle?”
The Commander looked to Sarielle warily.
Sarielle shot him an incredulous look. You’re lucky that my soul sister wanted me to rescue you or else you would never have made it out of that ruin.
The Commander jumped back. “She talks!”
Cyrene laughed. “Well, of course, she talks.”
What? Haven’t you ever met a dragon before?
“No,” he said, clearly reassessing the situation. “So…dragons and Braj are real.”
“Yes. And every other nightmare you’ve ever heard of and some that you haven’t. Wara might be the assassin that is running the Guild. But she’s a dark general for Malysa, and that is the real person behind it all.”
“Okay,” he said slowly. “If you know so much about her, then what does she want with the Guild?”
“It’s a long story. But the gist of it
is that she wants to kill all magical users who don’t bow to her and rule over everyone else.”
The Commander looked between her and Dean. “And you are the defense against her?”
“I am the Domina,” she told him, letting the glow return to her skin. “I speak for all Doma. Anyone with magic is under my jurisdiction. And I’m here to stop her.”
The Commander saw her glowing skin and listened to what she was saying and then began to laugh.
“What?” Cyrene snapped.
“You against a goddess?” he asked, reining in his laughter. “I might take my chances with the goddess. Maybe the Guild was right all along.”
Cyrene narrowed her eyes. “This is not a joke. Malysa is the darkness in this world. She seeps into your mind and makes you your worst version of yourself. She feeds on dark blood magic. Her only goal is to subjugate all of Emporia. Can you sit back and watch her do that? Does that sound honorable?”
“All right. Say that I believe you,” he said solemnly. “Why don’t we go back to our sacred grounds and take on this Wara right now? You, me, and the dragons. We could win.”
“No. We don’t know if Malysa has given her special abilities or if she’s trained with magic. Not to mention, there were fifty angry Guild members that we’d have to fight, and Wara might not have sent her alone. There are too many variables.” Cyrene straightened further. “What we need to do is regroup with the Guild members who are on your side.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Who says I’m not working alone?”
“Because I am not an idiot. Haeven said there were others waiting for you to step up when we last met. You might have betrayed me in those mountains, but we need to work together now to stop Malysa.”
The Commander stared down at her. “I did not betray you.”
“The Honorary said you sent her after us.”
He shook his head. “She must have already known of my betrayal with the Guild and said that to disarm you. I had no part in it.”
Something settled in her stomach. She had been worried that coming to see the Commander would be a bad idea, but she had taken the chance anyway. She trusted him despite his betrayal. She had known that, even though he was a trained killer, he was still a good man. And now, he was proving her right again.
“So, which side are you on?” she asked him. “Malysa and destruction? Or the side of the light…with me?”
I’d choose carefully, Sarielle teased from his side.
The Commander glanced at the dragon. “I have a place we can regroup, and then we can decide.”
Cyrene smiled. That was a good answer. “Excellent.”
“By the way,” he said with a wink, “you look good.”
She flushed and strode toward Sarielle, ignoring the heated looks from both men at her back. “Let’s head out.”
They left the dragons at the base of the Barren Mountains closest to Alba and then trekked through the treacherous city to what looked like an abandoned warehouse.
Dean shot her a look. “How do we know we can trust him?”
“We can’t,” she muttered back. “But we need him.”
“We don’t even know his name.”
“That’s because my name is currency,” the Commander said, whirling to face them both.
“How did you two meet exactly?” Dean asked.
The Commander’s grin was feral. “I kidnapped her.”
Dean raised his eyebrows. “Charming.”
“And then he saved all of our lives,” Cyrene cut in. “So, let’s just let the past be the past, shall we?”
Dean and the Commander stood mere inches apart, sizing each other up. Cyrene just sighed and rolled her eyes. Men!
She pushed past them. “Well, I’m going inside.”
But what she stepped into was nothing like she’d expected. At least a hundred Guild members were sparring in a center pit far below her. And they weren’t using fists and steel. They were using magic. Elemental magic. Doma magic.
She should have felt it outside but had been too focused on the conformation with Dean and the Commander. Here they were. All of them fighting together and honing their skills. Just like she had done in Kinkadia.
“How?” she whispered when the Commander came up to her right side.
“I took the knowledge that you gave me before you left and have been training with them ever since. It took a long time to break the habits we had formed. But knowing what we were capable of and not just what the Guild had made us was the first real barrier. Once we broke that down, we were able to do this. Grow and keep growing.”
Cyrene watched a girl with long silver hair shooting flames from her fingers. She moved with the grace of water. Her hair flying out around her as she twisted in midair to take down her next opponent. It was six on one, and the girl was winning.
Cyrene smiled. “Haeven seems to have taken to it.”
“She’s my second for a reason,” he said fondly.
“Sounds like she’s more than that.”
The Commander said nothing, just watched his prodigy unleash herself.
Dean whistled low. “She’s incredible.”
“When you said that I was the strongest, was that a bluff?” the Commander asked Cyrene.
She shook her head. “I told you that I was the Domina. Part of that means that I can figure out strengths and who can access which elements. You can access all four. You were the strongest in that room.” She grinned at him. “Other than me, of course.”
“And now?”
“Haeven,” Cyrene said automatically. “She burns. Fire is her main element. Very rare.”
“She is,” he said tenderly.
Haeven finished off her last opponent and then turned her head up to the ramparts where they were standing. She cocked her head to the side and then was dashing up the stairs.
“You’re back,” she said sternly. Her eyes darting to Dean and Cyrene. “And with her again. Did it not go as planned?”
“No, but I know who is leading them and more,” the Commander said.
“Graver than we feared?” she guessed.
He nodded. “Assemble our forces. We have a decision to make.”
She gave him a small salute and then melted back into the shadows.
When Cyrene finished explaining the situation with Malysa to the assembled Guild members, she stood back and waited. Waited for the disbelief from them. The derision. The laughter like the Commander had done. That she wasn’t capable enough to lead an army.
But it never came.
Maybe it was because the Commander had ordered this meeting. He stood at her side. Perhaps he gave weight to her words.
Or perhaps here, with over a hundred trained assassins used to taking orders, she was just the next person in a long line of people who had issued them.
It was finally Haeven who spoke up first. She’d stood passively through the entire thing with her arms crossed. She’d waited and watched. Her eyes only flickering to the Commander once to see if what Cyrene was saying was true. “We’re not soldiers. We’re assassins.”
The Commander nodded. “We are. But we’ve been training for nearly a year to become more than what we were made into.”
“And you think that means running off to fight someone else’s war?” she asked. There was no heat to the question. Simple curiosity.
“It is everyone’s war,” Cyrene told her. “Every person in Emporia will feel the ripples and impacts of what is coming. Malysa is recruiting. That’s why she sent Wara to Kell to align with the Guild. There is no doubt that she means to slaughter anyone opposed to her or anyone who poses a threat. If you don’t join her, then you are against her.”
“Why should we join you instead of her?” another voice asked.
The Commander straightened. “Didn’t you hear anything she just said? I don’t like the idea of walking into a war zone, but we have been living in one our entire lives. We are the war, Binx,” he said to the man. “And I would like to fight f
or a free world. For the honor to choose. Not subjugation.”
“I agree,” Haeven said. “But we belong to the shadows. How would we help in a battle?”
Cyrene smiled. “Working with the army doesn’t have to mean battles. I have an idea about how to use your particular skill set. It’s a challenge. If you’re up for it?”
Haeven quirked an eyebrow that said, I’m listening.
So, Cyrene laid out exactly what she had in mind for the Guild. All of the dirty secrets she had been keeping as she decided to trust her gut and enlist the Commander again.
By the end, she was met with silence…but keen interest. She could see it shining on all their faces. Their desire to prove themselves. And the challenge that she posed. And hope. Hope for a better world. One they’d never considered possible.
The Commander set his hand on her shoulder. “Give us some time to think about it.”
“We don’t have a lot of time,” she told him.
He nodded. “We’ll work it out.”
“All right,” she said. “Thank you for letting me speak.”
“It’s good to see you again, spitfire. I’m glad you came back.” He squeezed her shoulder and then released her. “And…I kept my promise about the other thing you requested of me.”
Her eyes rounded. “You did?”
He nodded. “If you want to go there.”
“I would,” she whispered.
“Go on. We’ll be here, debating into the night.” He held his hand out. “You can trust me.”
She eased her small palm into his. “Can I?”
He pulled her in closer until his lips were pressed against the shell of her ear. “The name is Tristen.”
A small gasp escaped her. She pulled back and looked up into his gray eyes. “Tristen,” she breathed, tasting his name on her tongue. A name that must have cost him much. A name he had given to her freely…to prove she could trust him. “Thank you, Tristen.”
He grinned once and then released her.
She stepped away from him and back toward Dean.
“What was that about?” he asked through gritted teeth.