The Assassin Princess (The Legacy Novels Book 1)

by Blake Rivers

  His fingers sunk into the hot blood, his palm resting over the torn flesh. Please, he thought, please let this do something?

  But Hero felt nothing, and Kane was slipping, his eyes rolling in his head. His body began to shake, but Hero kept his hand on the wound, pushing, pushing. Please. Heal.

  There was a glow of light in the dark, purple under his palm, that was quickly gone. He dared not lift his hand.

  Kane’s body had stopped shaking and his eyelids fluttered open, his eyes blindly finding Hero. He licked his lips, and Raven gave a laugh.

  “Hero, you did it.”

  But Kane was speaking.

  “Kane, what was that?” Hero bent closer to his brother and friend.

  “No…pain…” he said and the breath left him, caressing Hero’s cheek.

  And then there was no more.

  “What—but, no, Kane!” Raven pulled on Kane’s shoulders, but his head fell back to the ground. “Hero? It worked, it did. Why has he—?”

  Hero shook his head, looking from Kane to Raven, understanding. “No, Raven, it didn’t work, not to save him. It just took away his pain. It gave him peace.”

  “No!” Raven looked down at Kane, shook his limp form. He faced Hero. “You killed him? You killed him!”

  The girl stooped down and held Raven to her as he broke, the sobs heaving from his chest. He turned away from his friend and held the girl tight. Her eyes swam with sorrow in the dying light, and Hero looked from them to the dead eyes of Kane.

  He closed them with his fingers, turning to the stars above, a corridor of lights between the crests of the hills.

  Chapter Eleven

  “When I was young, I loved nothing more than going on adventures with my brothers. We would gallop through the forests and play fight on the meadows, chasing each other into the wilderness. Some days we would venture south toward the sea, following each of the many rivers in turn through the deep marshland of the Madorus Lands. Other days we’d explore the borderlands between Noxumbra and Solancra, though the elders would always warn us off, telling us of dangers beyond the valley.

  “Evenings were made for quiet times, and I would lay upon the grass and stare high up into the branches of the trees watching the butterflies swoop down, swirling and dancing through the mysterious light; mesmerised by their magic colours, I would watch them float down and settled upon me, fluttering their tiny wings before gracefully taking off again, and disappearing into the sky.

  “Solancra was my whole world. It seemed so much bigger back then, when everything was much taller, much further away, and I was so much smaller—all I’m really saying, of course, is that I was once young and had not a care in the world, and I was happy.”

  Talos paused and tilted his head toward the dull din of the desperate voices, chains rattling, fingers scratching at damp rock; they were quieter than they had been, their pleas only murmurs in the dark. Were they distracted by the unicorn’s story? Ami saw it all in her mind, though unfocussed and faded, a cine film played on a projector.

  “Life was good,” Talos said, looking back at Ami, “and continued to be good as I matured and found myself a filly, a beautiful and gentle soul by the name of Florina. We became mates and soon had foals of our own, settling in the far south of the Solancra Forest to raise our family, close to the Madorus Lands. It was the perfect spot for us. Shade and shelter, plenty of water, and the plants, nuts, and berries that grew within those wetter woods were nutritious. During the day we’d graze and frolic in the lower lands of the valley, where the river splits, and splits again. At night the trees provided us with shelter, a nest of pine-needles, leaves, and grasses where we huddled together to sleep.

  “It was on one such night that the world changed for me forever, and all previous idealistic notions were shattered; it was the night I met the only true evil I’ve ever known.

  “I’d been asleep, Florina nuzzled beneath my head, my tail swept around us both, our foals curled at our hooves. I don’t know what awoke me, but when my eyes opened the man was already standing before me in the darkness. He was obviously of ill will, the way his face burned white in the night, the fact that he skulked so near to us in the shadows. I was ready and leaped forward, but he was ready for me in return.

  “My horn and legs were immediately covered in a green light I can’t explain, and I fell to my side, unable to use my power. I tried to call out to Florina, to the herd, but found myself mute, my tongue still and my jaw bound. Only my eyes were free, and I watched helplessly as my beloved Florina was also captured.

  “We were then dragged through the forest, Florina’s eyes wide and fearful as she struggled silently beside me. We couldn’t escape our sudden capture. Trees blurred by, the forest floor rough and painful as we were tossed this way and that, eventually falling clear of the forest altogether, landing upon each other in a heap.

  “I heard water close by, and in the glow of our bindings I saw a spring breaking from the dry earth. A black path lay at the foot of that spring, and to each side, black trees like walls.

  “The man was there, his white hands grabbing at Florina’s horn. I scrambled and struggled against my bonds, but couldn’t break free to stop him as he took hold of her. I wanted to scream, but I had no voice—I had tears though, and I cried—I cried as I watched my beautiful Florina’s power being drained from her. It was a terrible and horrific thing to witness—painful to recount—yet somehow still awesome in its own way. Her power flowed from her horn in many coloured sparks, pulsing reds and purples, yellows and greens and finally whites. Her light faded and her struggles diminished as the man’s power increased and he took her colour and power.

  “He then pulled her forward, and I was in silent agony. Florina gave one last look back at me, her eyes as wet as my own, and that was the last time I saw her, for one moment she was there, and the next she was gone.

  “And then it was my turn.

  “I felt his hand grip around my horn and an overwhelming feeling of loss came over me. Loss for Florina, our foals, our undisturbed and magical lives. I felt it all sink and seep from me as the man drained my powers. I looked up into the darkness, smelling the water and the fresh mix of wet earth and dewy scrub, the scent of pinewood and old, old oak. I could smell the flowers, and their names ran through my mind: fria, daysay, balia, and popps, and I could see nothing. The smells surrounded me and comforted me. They were the perfume of love, of Florina, her only and last beautiful tribute.

  “My body submitted, and I became weak, all the colours and light stolen, all of my heart destroyed, everything lost within moments.

  “I was pulled forward.

  “To my side, the man lit was a sinister flame, a beacon of warning to all to keep to the shadows. His skin was sickly white, sheened and luminous. He grinned, and then there was nothing.”

  The light from Ami’s sword lit pale footlights for his stage, and she saw the sadness in that light, as if the colour and the power had only just been drained from him, washed out and faded.

  “The nothing passed quickly, as sleep does for the sleeper, and I was left standing at the mouth of the river, watching it wind its course between the wooded borders of the Solancra and Planrus Lands. The sun was high, early afternoon, and I had lost hours of time, maybe longer. The land had turned from the nightshade’s poison to a garden of creation. All around me I saw the flowers, the same flowers I’d named and given as my last thought to Florina. The trees were high and looked new and different somehow.

  “And then Florina weighed on my heart again, and I looked around for her in sudden desperation. She’d entered, the same as I, but she’d not returned. Behind me was the dark entrance to the wood, and to the right, stepping from the shadows, was the man.

  “I was free and could move, but his approach was swift and unexpected. He raised his hand and the very earth rose up, the mud sliding up my hooves and hardening like clay, locking my legs in place. The black dirt licked around my horn also, and I was once again at
his mercy. ‘What did you see, unicorn? What did you find?’ he asked, his face a distortion, no longer human. He lunged and grabbed my horn.

  “The blast of power I felt from that touch was excruciating, a shock passing through my limbs, my organs, running through my skin. I felt the power penetrate me, forcing its way into my mind. My own power, what was left of it, flowed out of me in return, weakening me further, and a conversation broke out between our minds, the feeling both invasive and freeing. There were no questions, and no answers, no pleasantries required, just knowledge and information. I knew who he was suddenly, and I knew where he’d come from, and I knew what had happened—the history you’ve been told—I knew everything. I knew his name and his intentions, and I knew I couldn’t give him what he wanted—and then he knew that too.

  “‘Why won’t you tell me?’ he demanded, letting go of my horn. I was too weak to continue standing and fell forward, the clay breaking as I plunged into the fast moving water.

  “The river swallowed me whole and spat me to the surface, and gasping for air I was swept downstream, barely keeping my head above the water. I sunk and rose, dipped and rolled—was pushed into a spin. And then I saw him. He stood on the bank ahead, a sword in his hand. He’d jumped across the water, though I saw no more as I was spun again and hit the riverbank—and then I was on land.

  “Drained, weak and confused, I tried to stand but couldn’t. My body was broken. All I could see was a grey cliff that scraped the sky, and then he was standing over me, eclipsing the eclipse, dragging me through the sand into this very cave.

  “I think a part of me simply gave in to the inevitable—this was my life ending. Florina, our foals, and now a dark, cold cavernous ending. And for what? I was stood up against my will, my body wracked with pain, my screams constant, my legs holding my weight though each bone had been smashed by the turbulent river. Small green flames ran over me, thousands of them, like fireflies racing across my body, stretching me, pulling and pushing my body back together until I was fixed. He controlled me like a puppet then, walking me beside him, glaring at me with a grin like a cracked sore.

  “My eyes hadn’t fully adjusted, and I could see very little, but I heard the voices as you’ve heard them, and felt the grasping hands as you’ve felt them, though I understood the words they spoke and spat, where as you did not—but I was one of them, you see?—I was a captive.

  “Grubby cold flesh touched me as I was moved forward, my limbs screaming pain that my brain couldn’t take. Moans escaped me as I spied the old faces and mad eyes in the dark. One man reached far out of his alcove and touched my horn, and a flash of who he was came to my knowledge. A second man did, and then a third, and it is here that I shall tell you who they were.”

  Ami looked to the darkened voices, quieting as their cameos began to roll. She saw the scene playing in her mind, the film flickering and stuttering, showing images of men on horses, men in heavy armour under a hot sun; men with sane eyes and determined looks, in procession and on a mission.

  “The first who touched me was called Daniel Hawks.” Ami saw a man with a short brown beard, his bright blue eyes piercing. “A member of the first Guard of Legacy, he was one of seven men given the task to enter the Mortrus Lands, to explore and to conquer.” Another man came into Ami’s mind, sitting on a horse and laughing, a half-eaten apple in his hand. “The second man who touched me was Evan Holmes. He was an explorer and a fool who’d entered the Mortrus Lands with naivety and stupidity.” A third face wavered into Ami’s mind, a young and handsome man, wearing a simple leather jerkin and holding a sharp knife. “The third man to touch my horn was Henry of Heartlands, a direct descendant of the first settlers of Legacy, and one of the few from those first descendants to enter the Mortrus Lands. All three of those men are still here, and you were touched by two of them.”

  Ami shuddered as the image of Daniel Hawks was replaced by the old man who’d reached out for her, the first she’d seen with his bright blue eyes; and then the image of Evan Holmes, throwing his apple into the air and catching it, replaced by the putrid corpse, begging to be taken back to the Mortrus Lands. Then the images fell from her eyes. She looked down at her hands, barely lit and shaking.

  “I was chained and shackled and tortured horribly,” Talos said, his voice quiet. “I’ve watched as each man has been tortured and tortured again. Adam uses his sword, once a unicorn horn, in the most unspeakable ways.”

  “I’m sorry.” Ami’s voice broke. “I’m sorry he tortured you, all of you. What is it he wants from you? Why did he take you? Why the Mortrus Lands?”

  “He wants to know what’s within the Mortrus Lands, and why a new heir wasn’t sent back. He wants to know what happened between him and his father, and why he cannot remember. He needs questions answered as to why he cannot re-enter Legacy—and the answers to all of those things live within the Mortrus Lands. If he knew and could overcome whatever magic keeps him away, he could enter and destroy everything that his father built and exact his petty vengeance on the whole race of men—maybe across all layers.

  “But for now he cannot enter, and does not know why. Before your existence was made known, he scoured the land for those who’d entered the Mortrus Lands, and tried to force the memories from them, as none of us remembered. He gathered those who’d entered and had gone mad, finding them in the mountains of Edorus where they’d been abandoned and lived as hermits and outcasts. He gathered them and brought them here, one by one, to torture information from them; but with each attempt, no matter how much power he used, he found nothing. He’d eventually come to believe that it was because they were only men and not like him. They lost their minds too easily, were too weak, and so he tried to kill them, yet they wouldn’t even die for him. He had the most success with poor Evan, if you can call it a success. He sped up the decay of the flesh, though it still didn’t kill him. He rants here still, chained through his rotted remains.”

  Ami felt sick, and covered her mouth with her hand. All this? All of this from entering the Mortrus Lands? This was the place where Lords of Legacy had entered and emerged from, including her own father—what was so different about these men?

  Talos continued, sighing as he did. “He couldn’t hope to find anything out from them, and Adam eventually formed a new plan. He found new subjects, ones that were not weak men. He chose unicorns. He chose Florina and I. The men chant ‘Many go in, one must go’, and so he took both of us, hoping that one of us would reappear. I did, and Florina was lost.”

  The unicorn shook his head from side to side.

  “I’ve come to feel that Adam’s torture is a distraction from the loss of living. You see, although I may not have gone mad as the humans did, I have suffered from my forgotten visit to the Mortrus Lands. The loss of Florina and my family is my suffering, as Florina is surely dead and the fate of our foals is unknown. I haven’t seen the daylight since my imprisonment here many, many years ago—and it has been so many years, hundreds of years.”

  “Hundreds?” Ami shook her head. “But that can’t be. If Adam brought you here after my father disappeared then it can’t be—”

  “Ah, but it can,” Talos said, “because we are not in my layer here, just as we are not in yours. This is not the same layer that contains the lands of Legacy. As Adam has found he can travel through layers, he has also come to realise that time can be different between layers. He may leave here for five minutes, but to us in this cave it may have been a year. Believe me Princess Ami, I’ve been here a long, long time. You see, we cannot die. We that have been to the Mortrus Lands cannot die. Adam has tried to kill each of us and has failed each time.” Talos strained at his chains as he tried to move closer. “And so Adam now has a secret cave full of those who give him nothing, and cannot die. And now he has you, giving him his last attempt to find out what we do not know, though I somehow doubt Adam cares any longer about this information. He sent you in only to see if you could, and if, like him, you would; but his true focus is on
corrupting you. Do you know how he intends to use you?”

  Ami thought back, knowing that Adam’s power was wearing thin. She’d agreed to be with him, to take Legacy with him, and it’d all made sense at the time. Lord Adam, true ruler of Legacy, and she, just a princess, an art student who’d lead him into his land and then disappear back to her own layer, to her own world and life—or more likely, she would be killed. “Yes,” she said, nodding into the darkness. “I know what he intends to do.”

  “Then you’re already one step ahead. The Mortrus Lands are a mystery to us all,” Talos said, “but it’s within that mystery that you’ll find the answers to all questions, I feel. But I warn you, do not lose sight of your true nature. Not the nature of your past, or the futures of Legacy or Adam, but your present nature, who you really are right now. If you let others mould you into something else, if you let Adam control you with his stolen and twisted power, then you’ll become someone else.”

  Her true nature? Ami saw the mirror in her mind, saw the columns and arches, the dress she was now wearing and the power that ran beneath her skin. Yes, Dangerous was her true nature, the one she’d chosen. She could almost feel the rose in her hand, the one she’d picked, the thorns that’d pierced her skin, the sharp shift in perception. Had it been real? Did it matter? A coolness filled her veins and she shivered. There was a certainty to her actions, though she was unaware of what that certainty was, but she now trusted it, and let Dangerous call the shots.

  She picked up the sword and held it toward the unicorn, the light shifting dramatically. “I have something to give you,” she said, “and then we’re getting out of here.”

  Ami stepped forward and placed her hand on Talos’s muzzle, stroking up toward his tired looking eyes. In them she saw her own reflection, though it wasn’t her at all, but the girl who’d been in the mirror—the true Princess Ami.