Kate's Legacy (Soul Merge Saga Book 2)

by M. P. A. Hanson

  “How do you know?”

  “Because it’s what I would do, and you never underestimate your enemy.”

  “What if they’re better than you think?”

  “No-one is better than me.” Silver said with the absolute certainty.

  “What about Romana?”

  “We’re both peerless in all the worlds.” Silver replied absently. “But while she may be powerful magically, do you really think she has the guts to do as I do?”

  “You didn’t see the body of the Slave Master when she was finished.” Marten replied, edgily. “She’s not someone to cross.”

  “But still soft inside. I have no heart. The fact that you’re still alive proves that she does.”

  “Doesn’t your bitterness show that you still feel as well?” Marten asked.

  “Hate and anger, perhaps. But I lost the ability to feel anything good when the ability was tortured from me by my own brothers.” She squatted to the ground and examined where they stood. The captain had identified this sport as the one blind spot in the camp because it was behind a boulder and high up one of the rolling hills. “Stay here, she ordered the princeling. “If you move from this spot you’ll probably be captured and I didn’t sign up for a double rescue.”

  He nodded grimly, but still flinched slightly when she gradually made herself dissolve into air. It was difficult, and Kate’s command battered into her skull giving her the world’s biggest headache, but she had the information she needed in seconds, all the entrances were sealed with magic so tight that not even air was being pumped through. Teleporting in would be impossible, for the moment they did they would be caught in a net with no way out until Kobos released them. There were also, she couldn’t be sure unless Romana was in control, but Silver had a feeling that there was more than one wytch trapped inside that camp.

  “We’ll need to wait for one of them to come out.” The princeling observed.

  “I agree.” She said. “But we can lure them out.”

  “What exactly did you have in mind?” He asked, obviously doubtful of her plan.

  “You need to play bait.” She smiled. “I hope you can run.”

  He groaned.

  Three hours later and he was definitely good at running, Silver thought as she watched Marten sprinting across the hills, chased by over twenty guards.

  Smirking at how she would remember this for the rest of her life, she dug out the powers of an illusionist, whose powers she’d taken just after her one hundred and twentieth birthday party, and cloaked herself in what she hoped was invisibility – thanks to Romana now having her full powers it was now safe for Silver to use her own without damaging the girl’s psyche from the influx of too much magic too soon – and headed for the small concrete double doors that she’d found settled into a hillside while scouting.

  Sure enough, the guards had left only two sentries standing guard over the now open doors. Too easy, she thought, slicing quickly through their throats, leaving them crumpling to the ground several seconds after she was already inside.

  The first room she came to was circular and obviously where supplies were unloaded, as barrels and crates stacked in neat orderly piles were arranged next to holes in the metal panelled walls.

  A dumbwaiter system for getting them up and down, she realised scouting them quickly for signs of a possible emergency exit should she need one. It would of course, be impractical for her to try and get out with the wytch queen there, but if necessary, she could make it work.

  Bypassing the pulley system, and the workers who were loading it, she maintained her invisibility as she wandered down one of the larger hallways, wondering while she did so, where she would find the wytches.

  Her best chance was to try and see what she could overhear with her elvensense, she thought as she raced past another set of guards.

  She reached out with her senses, expanding them until the faults in the concrete walls were evident to her eyes, and the sounds of grass blowing in the breeze above her was clear as a church bell on fifth-day.

  But there was no sounds to indicate a captive wytch queen. No quiet mental pleas for help. There wasn’t a sound past the third floor.

  She frowned. The captain had told her that there were at least twenty underground floors to this place. There was no way that he would have lied to her, her pain manipulation was perfect, and she’d seen his mental pathways, he hadn’t been tampered with. No. Her source was fool proof.

  She made her way back to the entrance, to find the doors closed. Since she hadn’t heard the princeling being dragged in, she presumed that he had evaded his would-be captors. If he hadn’t, well, she would decide whether or not to rescue him later. He had tried to kill her several times, she mused as she dropped down one of the dumb waiter shafts, landing with a hard, yet silent thump at a distance that was definitely far more than three levels down from the surface.

  She waited until she was sure that no-one was on the other side, she jumped on the dumb waiter, forcing it down wards enough that a gap appeared which she could climb through.

  She squeezed through and emerged in a large, brightly lit white corridor. Her black leather would stand out like a crow amongst doves here, she thought, thankful for her invisibility.

  Odd that she could no longer feel the magic though, she thought, looking down to find her hands completely visible.

  Hell.

  Anti-Magic spells.

  She’d forgotten how much of a challenge they could be. Silver smiled.

  “I always love a challenge.” She muttered to herself, sprinting for the corridor’s only door.

  On the other side she found a large hallway, with stairs spiralling in both directions in the middle. Around the stairs, were several heavy looking wooden doors.

  But perhaps of more immediate concern were the three, goblins heading for her.

  Perhaps. Perhaps not. She thought as she quickly sliced through the yellow, half snake, half dog creatures. Goblins, all goblins, were nothing but brutes with strength and very little skill. Even a skilled human could kill them.

  She left one alive, pinned to the floor by her weight.

  “Where is the wytch being held?” She demanded, pressing her knife to his jugular.

  “Pleases don’ts kills me.” It warbled, cowardly as most of its race were without leadership or some significant force behind it.

  “Tell me and maybe I won’t.” Silver cooed to the stupid creature, putting more pressure behind her blade.

  “Okays! Okays!” It squeaked. “She with alls the wytcheses.”

  “Which is where?” Silver asked, wondering if the creature thought she was clairvoyant, well, it was stupid enough, she thought.

  “In the fourteenth floor. In the cells.” It squeaked in fright.

  “Which floor are we on now?” She demanded.

  “Twelfths.”

  She smiled. It relaxed. Her blade sliced clean through it’s ugly scaled neck.

  She flicked the blood from her swords and sheathed them at her back before running down the stairs.

  There were four Goblin guards on the single door to this floor, all of which she killed without much effort or thought and since the thrill of the kill had worn off after she had singlehandedly taken out that camp full of men earlier and she was almost bored by the time she was finished.

  Silver paused at the door, looking at the way it was designed so that it would only open from the inside. That might have perturbed most people. Not her.

  Crossing to the other side of the hallway, she smirked at the door, and the pacing guards behind it. They were about to open that door for her.

  Opening her mouth and drawing air into her lungs in a great breath, she let out a great warbling goblin war cry, one that suggested a victory. Thankfully, the goblin language, like its creators, was simple, only a series of grunts and shrill moans that carried no refined inflection whatsoever, so none of the goblins would be able to tell her cry from the cry of their fallen brethren.
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  But it wasn’t goblins who opened the door to the cell block, it was a Cyclops.

  Would the line of brainless imbeciles never end? Silver wondered absently as she walked towards it, hands bare of weapons, hips sashaying to and fro.

  The damn thing actually drooled as she reached it and slit it’s throat in a swift move. Men of any species were so predictable. She doubted it had even seen the dead bodies at its feet.

  Dodging the spray of acidic blood by inches, Silver continued through the door and into a nightmare.

  A metal walkway stretched before her, held up by poles attached to the ceiling by huge bolts. At regular intervals along the walkways, rope ladders were coiled in neat piles.

  Below her hundreds of square glass tanks, empty but for a small bed and loo in each, spread out across the room, each no more than eight foot from side to side, and inside them were wytches of all ages. Some were unconscious, some didn’t seem to be breathing at all.

  She walked over to the nearest healthy looking wytch and quickly lowered the rope ladder into it.

  “I’m here to free you.” Silver told the woman, relieved that there didn’t seem to be any other guards in this room. “Help me get the others out.”

  The woman nodded grimly. “There’s five guards in the room over that way, and a dozen more guarding the wytch queen, they’re elves I think.”

  “Hurry then, and be quiet.”

  With that Silver was gone, streaking to the room that the woman had mentioned using her elvenspeed.

  The quiet snick of the door opening was the only indication that she was there before the goblins, five like the wytch had said, were dead. The interior of the room was dedicated to Cais tables, the one form of gambling simple enough for the goblins to actually understand.

  The only other guards that the wytch knew about were those around Allie’s cage.

  Well they wouldn’t be there for long.

  Silver left the room to find that the sensible wytch had released others who weren’t in a bad condition and they were all working to get the others out of the cages.

  “Where is the wytch queen?” Silver demanded of one of them.

  “The south east side I think.” The teenager replied, looking terrified at the sight of her swords.

  “Listen, don’t let anyone leave until I return to guard you all. You won’t be able to use your magic while you’re in these tunnels and I promised that I’d get you all out safely.”

  “Promised who?”

  “Romana, Queen of all Wytchdom, who sent me.” It wasn’t the truth, she’d sent herself, but it was close enough. “Prince Marten will be outside to join us as well, I got him to play decoy.”

  The girl looked speechless as Silver took off heading for the south east corner, pushing random ladders down into the cells as she did so with brief instructions to the wytches that climbed out.

  When she was finally in sight of the guards she could see that they were elven, and not one was younger than five hundred, meaning they were all experienced enough that they could actually hurt her if they worked hard enough.

  Cautious now, she walked forwards slowly. As predicted, two broke off to deal with her, leaving the other ten to guard Allie, these two underestimated her, and were dead in minutes. The next four weren’t as easy, and staying on the small walkway became harder and harder as they tried to corner her. But like the others they fell eventually, leaving only a hairline slice along her cheek.

  The next six came at her at once, leaving very little time for her to react. Luckily, her family had prepared her for this, and she jumped upwards when they would have thrust their swords into her, landing on one’s back and slitting his throat. When one went down, the others seemed to realise that they weren’t invincible, and their panic left them vulnerable, from there it was a simple method of hunting them down and killing them one by one as they attempted to flee along the metal scaffolding.

  When the last one had lost his last breath, she walked over to Allie’s tank and pushed the ladder down, Allie climbed up immediately, her black hair floating behind her.

  “Sister.” She bowed in respect.

  “Whatever.” Silver muttered. “We’ve got to get going.”

  “The others?” Allie asked.

  “A lot of the cages are empty, we’ll leave up the stairwells, but you won’t be able to use your magic.”

  “Will you be leading us?”

  “Just follow the stairs up. I plan on rendering this place useless.”

  “You have a good heart sister, to save us and destroy this place.”

  “No. I do whatever will stave off the boredom for a few more hours.

  Allie nodded and made her way over to the amassing wytches. Silver did a quick check at elvenspeed to make sure that no wytches had been left behind in the rush, then she pondered how the hell she was going to manage this crazy plan to destroy this base, while sticking to Kate’s restrictions and getting around the anti-magic spell. She could always teleport using fire. The resulting pillar of flame would cause the entire place to collapse, but then she’d be trapped by the anti-magic shield.

  But she’d get to that when she got there.

  She ran from the room, grateful to see the goblins outside had been stripped of their weapons and the party of wytches was only just visible near to the top of the stairs. While they went up, she went down to the very last floor, killing goblins as she went. When she reached the bottom, it was to find a large room identical to the on that Kobos had used to strip Romana of her powers so often before, the large slab in the centre was not hidden from her eyes by the dark as the girl remembered, but inside her mind she could feel her drawing back from the sight. It was amazing how closely connected they were now. If one was unconscious they could still sense the basic feel of situation that the other was in. Unfortunately, when Romana was scared it sent Silver’s teeth on edge, so she clamped off the girls mental pathways from her own, making her further away.

  The quiet shocked her for a moment. She’d been putting up with so much background noise since she was in this body that she almost found the sudden silence eerie.

  No. That was ridiculous. An ancient elven princess did not find silence eerie. Not after nineteen years of it.

  Get over it, she thought to herself. At least the fact that magic was worked here often would mean that she would be able to do all the damage she needed to.

  She teleported with flame, knowing that Romana usually preferred to use air so it was less conspicuous. This time, she needed the damage to be caused.

  She arrived outside the main door to the base, thrust there by the magical net which surrounded the compound, preventing her from teleporting anywhere else. Around her was a flood of guards that seemed to have no end, except for behind her, where the hill had turned into a large crater in the ground.

  “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” Kobos hissed from the semi-circle surrounding her. “Hello Silver Eyed Wytch. Where are my magic donors?”

  “Hmm…” Silver pondered it. “Did you try retracing your steps?”

  “I would. But unfortunately it’s no longer possible.” He hissed, as she surveyed the army around her, and it was an army, but regrettably, this time they weren’t all goblins. In fact, several dragons looked down at her. Damn.

  “And why would that be Ko Ko? Did you get lost?” She put on a patronising smile. “I bet you need mama to help you find it again, should we go fetch her from your study?”

  Kobos’ face flashed with something for a second, perhaps fear, but more likely madness, she decided. Mad sorcerers didn’t feel fear.

  “Have you seen my study?” He demanded.

  “Yes.” She smiled and played along. “I loved the ceiling. We should makeover my place just like it.”

  “It’s magically locked, no-one can teleport in.” Silver could see the way his mind was calculating all of the ways in and out of his office that she could have used.

  “But they can teleport out
.”

  “How did you get in without my permission wytch!” He was losing his patience already, not a good sign if she wanted to stay alive without using magic.

  She only had one option, she thought as she backed towards the ledge, she would have to use her original power, which had been bestowed upon her by the ancients to help her bring peace to a people at war. It was something she had never wanted to use again, for it always brought her turbulent emotions to the surface and demanded that she face them, the problem with that was that her darker emotions, which greatly outweighed the happy ones, would almost certainly cause her to go on the rampage, killing what would in all likelihood be the whole world in her bloodlust. It was risky, but if someone could help her, she would probably survive it.

  Using elvensight, she located the kingling on a hill in the original blind spot, watching her with an anxious expression. She would need his help later, she knew, if her crazy plan worked.

  With a wink at him, she dived backwards from the ledge, into the crater headfirst. For a heartbeat of time she allowed herself to simply fall, then, with only a thought, she felt them explode from her back as she fell, ripping the black leather in their haste to be free.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  FIXING AN ANCIENT MISTAKE

  She soared upwards, away from the army faster than a blink. Her raven black wings carrying her high into the sky. The feathers caressing her back as the wind soared around them.

  She reached Marten faster than she could have using elvenspeed, and plucked him up from the ground like he weighed nothing, which he did. He didn’t even notice that he was in the air for several moments.

  “How the hell!” He yelled as she soared far away from the moorland that they’d been on. When they landed, they were in the forest.

  “You have wings and you didn’t think to tell me?” He yelled.

  “I have a lot of powers.” She hedged, folding the wings behind her back and groaning as they weaved themselves back into the skin of her back. “Damn that’s weird.” She rolled her shoulders around in an effort to dislodge the tight feeling that always happened when she used her wings. “Now, I’m calling in that favour you owe me. Spar with me.”