The Assassin Princess (The Legacy Novels Book 1)

by Blake Rivers

  “Hero of the Guard,” her voice only a shade from the sound of her song, “the most important days of your life are about to start.”

  “Who are you?” he asked, crouching down.

  “Who I am is of no importance,” she said. “What is of importance is that you know me to be your guide, and that you heed my advice.”

  “My guide? Why do I need a guide?”

  “Today you will be approached by those with much magic, and from there you’ll race against your darkest adversary to win the prize of the purest hope.” The girl thrust her hands into the fire, turning the flames a purple and green. “See here, Hero of the Guard, look into the flame. See your task ahead.”

  Hero’s eyes were drawn into the twists and turns of flickering colours that created images of unicorns and dark clouds, and of a girl in flight.

  The fire flamed orange once more and rose higher between them, the images gone.

  “You succeed, but you also lose.”

  “I don’t understand,” he said, standing up, the fire rising higher still. “I’ll succeed and lose in what?”

  The flames leapt toward him and threw him back against the ramparts, a mist of ash settling on his robes, a plume of smoke rising and disappearing into the morning blue. A whisper touched his ear like a kiss. “Be ready,” it sang, lapsing into the same melody he heard now, her song lifted in the storm, calling to him.

  He climbed the dark stairwell out into the storm, where dark clouds of black and green were gathered above, seen through sheets of grey rain that soaked him to the bone. He spun out of the ruins, calling out to the girl.

  “Where are you?” he shouted into the storm. “I have come!” The sky flickered, flashed, and across the grass, through the grey mist, Hero saw a dark figure silhouetted—gone in a flash.

  It wasn’t the girl.

  The soft voice came from every direction, and Hero spun, blinded by the light and dark. He held his sword aloft, the wind whistling against the steel as the dark figure moved closer in shadow and light, his ragged breathing a chant in the night.

  “Where are you?” Hero called. “I have come to you!”

  The dark figure was in front of him, his white skin shimmering green as the sick lightning struck nearby.

  Hero screamed and fell back against the ruins—but the man had gone, as had the storm, the sky now a calm twilight.

  *

  Hero looked around him, a dim forest, raindrops clinging to branches, falling to the ground. Woodland animals scuffled close by and through the treetops the first few stars could be seen, straining against the true black of night. His steps led him across the carpet of needles once more to the outer edge of the fire. The crackle and snaps from the wood beneath comforted Hero only a little, the red sparks flaking and flying as he knelt and addressed the dark girl, hidden.

  “Was that Adam?” he asked.

  “Yes, Adam is with you. His storm of power infects your princess, though he does not see you as a threat,” the girl said, her voice soft. “And that is the only reason you live, Hero of the Guard. You do not feature in his plans.”

  “What is happening to Ami?” he asked, his fear and anger rising. “Do you know? Why can’t we wake her? How does the storm infect her?”

  “You can do nothing for her,” she said. “You have brought her this far, but you are to lose her.”

  “Lose her?” Hero was incensed. He gripped his sword and rose from the ground, meaning to round the fire and confront her, but as he did she also moved, the north to his south, remaining his opposite across the flames as if the world revolved around the fire.

  Hero relented. “Why are we to lose her?”

  “You must realise, Hero of the Guard, our time is limited here. Know that events I guide you to come to pass.”

  “You said I would lose and succeed,” he said, “and this is what you meant?”

  “I did,” she said, her voice a smile, “but if I’d have told you that you’d lose that which you sought to protect, you would’ve tried too hard to keep her safe, and everything would’ve been lost.”

  “How do I lose her? To Adam? Will she die? Who are you to make these predictions?”

  “I am your guide, Hero of the Guard,” she said, and once more thrust her hands into the fire. As before, the flames changed to a purple-jade. “Do not despair. Your strength is your duty, and your love. You cannot help Ami, and you must allow events to unfold. When she wakes, she’ll be lost to you, and you must let her go.”

  Hero watched the purple chase the green, the flames licking and fighting, both colours winning and losing. “If this is the truth, then what is my purpose? I’ve been tasked with bringing the princess back to Legacy, the heir to our lands, and I’ve already failed.” Hero didn’t want to believe her, this tribal stranger of mystical magic, yet he trusted her, if only because he was with her and had not been destroyed by Adam’s hate—but Adam was there with Ami. He had to get back to her.

  “Do you remember what happened after my last visit, Hero? Look into the flames and remember.”

  Hero’s eyes burned with images, flashes of memory in the flame. He saw the unicorn ride through the tunnel pass and up to the city gates. He’d led the creature up to the castle with important news: the existence of an heir had been discovered, and she was in danger. Hero had been readying to ride out to Solancra with the unicorn when Lady Grace had asked him to her chambers for conference.

  He saw her room in the flames, large and dark, her one solitary candle burning at the windows in remembrance of her lost family.

  “If there is a chance that my flesh and blood lives—and she is unaware of her history—” she’d said, “please bring her back. If it’s also true that Adam is alive and intent upon her capture? Then I want you to stop him. Defend her. Bring her back to Legacy, please Hero, my most trusted and loyal, Hero. Find a way to destroy him, even if it leads you to the Mortrus Lands, do it!”

  Hero saw himself promising her that he’d do everything in his power. He’d kissed her hand, she’d kissed his forehead, and then he’d left her.

  The images cleared, though the green and purple flames remained, hot and empty.

  “This is where you need to go, where you need to be, and what you need to know.” The girl swept her hands over the flames, and Hero watched them rise up into her palms, gathering there as balls of flame—the colours fought and swirled, but didn’t burn her.

  “I am to go back to Legacy without the princess?”

  The colours touched the girl’s eyes, reflecting in them green and purple both. “You are to ask for counsel from your elders, and think on what was said. Journey home, Hero, and do not despair, as I don’t leave you empty handed.”

  Before Hero could move, her hands flicked toward him, the fire leaving her palms and hitting his chest. He yelled out and fell backward, flames dancing across his robes. He ran his hands over his body, sweeping through the flames, the purple light sinking through the cloth and entering his skin. He felt a warmth flush through him.

  “What did you just do?” he said, gasping and sitting back up. The fire rose high and bright, the flames back to their yellow-orange.

  “I’ve given you a gift, Hero of the Guard. Something to fight and defend with, other than your noble sword and skill. But be warned,” she said. “Do not attempt to keep Ami with this power. Remember, you must lose her. It’s the only way.”

  Hero felt the torrential storm rise around him as the sky darkened, the wind whipping his face, ripping his hood back from his head. The fire was out and he was back on the hilltop, the ruins behind him.

  He wiped his face, pushing the rain from his sight as the thunder rolled above. Where was Adam? The hills lit and Hero scrambled to his feet, slipping in the mud. “Ami!”

  He raced through the ruins and down the river of steps to the chamber below.

  Chapter Seven

  “Quite the tale, isn’t it?” Adam said, standing and looking down at her. To Ami he seemed so mo
nstrous, so tall and thin. His eyes flashed at her as he began to pace the room, his legs shadow sticks, flickering, doubling and fazing in the firelight.

  “It happened in a cave, far away from here,” he said. “A secret place where I took my pleasures with the pain of old men’s screams, their weak and starved bodies no match for my power. I would spike their skulls and call them unicorns…but that’s another story. My latest lay in a pool, just within the mouth of the cave.”

  Adam stood away from the fire, letting the shadow play across his face, his eyes the only constant, their stare never leaving hers; their green lilt kept her entranced as he raised his hands either side of him.

  Somewhere, a soft voice sung beneath a wind, and the room began to change. It seemed to blur and expand, become darker, rounder. Ami heard water, saw it running down dark and rocky walls. To her right, faded grey light showed the last embers of a day, midnight blue over shimmering black, the sounds of waves running across soft sand.

  She was in the cave. Before her was a pool of red water, and within it was a man, barely alive and soaked in scarlet. A large wooden stake rose up through his forehead. Ami felt ill, but the dangerous part of her kept her seated at the water’s edge, watching Adam who was on the other side, staring down at the body. His sword was in his hand, the steel reflecting the sky from the open mouth.

  “I’d just finished with him,” he said, pointing, “when a strange thing happened. My sword lit a blinding white.” The blade burst into white flame in Adam’s hand as she watched. “Startled, I dropped it, where it lodged tip first in the water. The white fire still burned though, beneath the surface, and within the colliding ripples something appeared: a vision.

  “It was strong, clear, a girl with long brown hair and deep brown eyes. You looked out from the pool at me and lifted a brush to a canvas I couldn’t see.”

  The image of her filled the pool, floating upon its red-tinged surface like a portal into Ami’s world. She watched herself walk through the flat, a place that felt but a dream, filled with familiar things she’d treasured not so long ago: the sofa her parents had given her, a pile of magazines she’d collected by the side of it; the scarf she’d had since childhood; her music player and ear buds—never leave home without them—all these things that made her feel homesick, yet were somehow detached and far away, like photos in an album, fond memories of a past life.

  “I watched as you wandered through your flat, unaware of eyes watching you, unaware of another layer to your world, and I, unaware of you. I grasped the sword, meaning to rip it from the pool. But then voices came, filling the cave, filling my ears. I released my grip and the voices stopped. I gripped the sword again and the cave echoed with deep, thundering voices. I loosened my grip, and the voices quietened, allowing me to make out the words being said.”

  Ami heard them fading in as if tuned on a radio.

  “…could not be anyone else,” a voice declared.

  “It’s not in dispute, we can all read her, feel her, but she doesn’t know,” said a second.

  “It’s not our business. None of it is. Whether she knows, doesn’t know—the horn was stolen, our kind murdered,” a third voice.

  “And we should allow a whole people to suffer because of one’s act, thousands of years before?”

  “It is not our business, Xavier. Leave her be.”

  “Can you—can you feel that?” the second voice said. “I sense a presence. We three are the only counselling, are we not?”

  “We shouldn’t be interfering, I tell you, it’s their time to die out.”

  “I can feel it,” the first voice, Xavier said, “and I overrule you, Tantor. We must send one to Legacy to show what we’ve seen, to tell the captain of their Guard and bring him to action. We must help their kind continue to prosper, for they are the continuity of our fallen brother of ages past. The girl is in danger, and we must act.”

  “Yes,” the second one said, his voice calm and dreamy, “I can sense him. It’s a man. It’s the missing son of Legacy. He can hear us, and now he knows about the girl—I feel his anger, and yes, she is in danger.”

  The voices faded away, and Adam spoke.

  “I was angry, indeed. I saw you, and then knew you for who you were. You were the daughter of Graeme, and I was to have you. I pulled the sword from the pool and slashed into the vision with the blade. I was to find you and bring you to me.”

  Ami watched as he rose, pulling the sword from the water. Her image still floated upon it, and Adam’s blade cut through it, splitting the layers of the world, creating a blossoming white portal, spilling ribbons and sparkles of light.

  He jumped into it and the cave went dark, the set changing. The light returned, the fire blazing in its hearth, and the room came back as before. Ami tried to stand, but Adam pushed her down, green flames igniting on his hand, travelling to her shoulder and down her arm, into her skin. Ami shuddered—something changed within her.

  He sat opposite once more. “I was rash, filled with jealousy and anger. You lived, and were to be brought to our layer, into our world, to take your place in Legacy—to take my place in Legacy! I stepped out of the ripped layer, and into your world, and the rest you know. Except for one thing.”

  Adam knelt in front of her, his hands on the arms of the chair. His eyes were hypnotic, his red lips pulled tight in a terrible leer. Ami’s stomach churned with revulsion and fear, the want to run, scream, break back through the mirror to her own life; but there was a growing part of her, a strong part that was getting stronger every second. That part of her wanted to be here, to be dangerous. The dark corners of the room began to vibrate and shake, slips of light appearing behind the scenes of Adam’s control.

  Far away, a melody passed beneath a storm.

  Adam reached up and touched her chin, his finger icy cold. “Why do I want you? Why haven’t I killed you?” His eyes flashed, and within them Ami saw tiny green flames in the dark pupils, flames that lit and burned like fields of fire. “It would be easy, you know. It would be so easy for me. I have the power and the strength, and let’s face it, you haven’t been a very good sister to me—you never write, you never call—I could destroy you in an instant.”

  Ami wasn’t so sure, though her confidence was a mystery to her.

  “But I have a reason, dear sister,” he continued, whispering gently and caressing her cheek, “and it’s simply this: I know you want to help me. I know you want to help me take Legacy.” Ami flinched as more green flame passed from him. “Once you’ve helped me? You can go back home, because we both know that you’re no leader of people, you’re no Princess of Legacy, no.” Another wave of flame licked her skin. He stroked it across her cheek, down her neck, where it burned cool as it penetrated her. She felt ill with it.

  “I am the princess,” she said, her voice weak and slurred, her eyes blurring as they stared into his. “I was told I was.”

  “Oh you are,” he said, smoothing he hair behind her ear. “You are the princess, but you don’t want to be.” Ami felt more flames dance through her hair, tumbling down her back. “You only want to help me. Don’t worry, I’ll show you how you can help. I’ll teach you, train you, and then you can enter Legacy as its princess, and then you can let me back in.”

  Dangerous writhed beneath the surface, though her cries and calls were mute as Ami’s strength left her. Things seemed so clear now. She’d never wanted any of this anyway, so why not go home? It’s what she wanted. To wake up.

  A call, a push, a struggle deep within. Dangerous.

  Adam took her hands in his, the green flames burning high and without pain. “You want to help me, don’t you, Ami?”

  And she did, yes. She nodded. Why not do as he wished? Then she could go home where she’d be safe again, normal again; she could forget paintings of dreams she couldn’t remember, and give up those wild ideas of other worlds and magical beings and—

  A flicker of purple flashed behind her eyes as Dangerous found her footing again, t
hough she was trapped in Adam’s swoon still, and feeling weaker by the second.

  “You’ll battle through the gates,” he said, “and kill everyone you meet. You’ll climb the shadows and enter the castle that would be your home and prison. You’ll take the land and claim it as your own, and who could stop you? No one.” Adam sneered, his hands clasping her wrists, bolts of fire shooting up her arms. Her veins burned. “Then open the way for me through the layers, and I shall rule in your stead! I shall rule those that should be under me, those that our father loved more than me!”

  “Yes,” she heard herself say. “I will, I want that.” And Ami knew that she did. She wanted to take the land, yes, kill everyone, yes, and break them all, leaving Adam to rule.

  He slid his hands up her arms, the fire spreading all over her body. She felt dizzy, sick, her eyes burning in his, eyes that were fiery emeralds. What was happening to her? The sickness spread and her limbs became weak and compliant.

  Dangerous closed her fist on the rose in her palm and the thorns slid into her flesh. Blood dripped down her fingers and the pain shot through her, feeling good and clean—she felt awake, the haze lifting, the scales tipping.

  She pushed Adam’s chest and purple fire shot from her palms, throwing him back against the wall that billowed out and tore like paper. The stage was beginning to fall, the room moving, phasing. Ami watched the bookcase disappear, the rug beneath her vanish; all the walls were gone now, and the fire crackled, spat, and turned into a roaring furnace of green, white, purple, and blue flames.

  Adam stood back up, sword in hand, but Ami was ready, the Dangerous within her knowing what to do. The moment had come. She sprung from the chair and pulled it up from the ground. It turned black in her grasp, ash flittering into the air. She blew it from her hand, her breath coming purple, the ash shooting out straight into a long, silver blade.

  Swooping it back behind her, she stood en guard to Adam, whose smile widened as his own sword tilted toward her.