Nightshade

by Jennifer Pierce-Gaeta

  "Scream your fury now, princess, get it all out now for you will not be given another chance. We have limited time till the coronation ball, and I will see to your treatments myself. You have no idea the beauty I will pull from your soul. Shall we begin?" The Head Mistress asked as she spooled a ball of teal magic between her palms. She gave it a gentle push forward as Sasha screamed and tried to break her bonds. The darkness took her mind like velvet, yet a small voice could be heard, and what it instructed her to do would chill the heart of most souls.

  Chapter 5

  Assassin’s Temper

  Zoey had grown in the last year, her small frame elongating into an awkward height that left her tall but still unnoticeable. If you were to ask Zoey what she thought of herself, she would tell you she was but a plain peasant girl, something to be ignored. She wore no makeup as the noble girls of the Pride would, and her long raven locks were held back in a tight, smart bun. Even plain she was beautiful, it was this beauty that let her pass unscathed into a mark's home, staff, or even their bedrooms.

  Her training had progressed at a phenomenal pace. She had surpassed the other students in her classes to claim the coveted title of Dragon Assassin. Dragons were an elite class of assassin, meant to blend into any surroundings, and they were trained to kill without the slightest bit of mercy. To every student in the assassin guild, this position was one that led to graduation and riches, for Zoey, it was a means to an end. She longed to go home and use her skills only when needed. The constant strain of killing has torn an aching hole in her soul, one that she is certain would never heal. She feared falling into the resentment it made her feel at the Queen and Sasha.

  Only Zephyr understood as he was sent to train under the same guise that Zoey had been sent to endure. It would seem Queen Elise had started quite the trend within the animal kingdoms went she decided to send her youngest to learn how to defend her heir. It was the ultimate fail-safe, should the first heir perish the second one already possessed the means to protect themselves. It seemed adequate, yet to Zoey and Zephyr, it felt unjust to be treated as a pawn on the chessboard of their elder sibling's lives.

  Zephyr was the second Prince of the Jaguar Kingdom. They guarded the jungles, while Zoey’s family guarded the plains and coast. The Pride and the Shadows had a long-standing treaty as did every shifter kingdom in the land of Astra. It was only natural that Zoey and Zephyr gravitated towards each other, as they were each a familiar face to the other. The lower children of the nobles and the peasant that had earned entrance into the assassin's guild ridiculed Zephyr and Zoey constantly. Both royal children had been caught alone and beaten by those bigger and more powerful than they were simply because they were royals.

  Master Rajendra turned a blind eye to their suffering, knowing that by overcoming their foes, they would be made stronger and wiser assassins for it. To Zoey and Zephyr, Master Rajendra's lack of acknowledgment made them think that somehow they deserved their foul treatment. If caught in the act, the bully and the bullied were punished, and the lash split royal skin just as harshly as it did commoner skin. It wasn't until the duo teamed up and retaliated that the bullying began to taper, and Master Rajendra increased the Prince and Princess’s training.

  None were spared or spoiled by the Master of Assassins, less they become soft and useless. It was the Master’s first rule, and you either abide by the rules or you left by stealth. Many lower noble children stole away into the night, slithering back to their homes and estates once they learned to part the shadows. Not one ever returned, though they took on the mantle of Assassin even if no such title had been earned. A true assassin is gifted with an item that identifies him or her as truly holding the title. It is a different gift for each person who finishes this severe form of training. Few complete it, and few still live through to completion.

  It was these false assassins or easy marks that Zoey and Zephyr loved the best. Revenge was a dish best served cold, and both Zoey and Zephyr found ways to make these frozen dishes last far beyond what was necessary. It was almost cruel, but the flashback of memory that would haunt both children and would stay with them for life even if they fake assassins no longer lived and breathed. When they worked in concert, the mess they left could be quite horrifying, yet you would be hard pressed to find one thing that could prove they were there. Even their weapons were spelled against blood and its ability to stain.

  Tonight Zoey and Zephyr had a reason to be excited; they had just learned that they would be sent to the Spring Ball in Astra, the Lion Pride Kingdom, for Sasha's coronation party. The princess had finally come of age, and Queen Elise was throwing the customary party the nobles required; not that she needed their permission to choose, and heir, but Sasha would be tested this night. Her safety would be the highest of concern for the Queen with all of the nobles in attendance. It would be a simple thing to kill the current heir and force the Queen into accepting her second child and then ridding themselves of her as well

  Zoey and Zephyr were schooled in all manner of noble trickery and drama. They both knew how to see the games and thwart them before they had even begun. This knowledge is what they trained in daily, the art of seduction, the twist of the tongue, or even the sleight of hand were all parlor tricks they had learned at a young age. Their real mission would be one Zoey had been training for the last nine years, and that would be to keep the princess safe. It would be like a midterm to the final she would take once she turned eighteen and had to return home. Would Zoey be assassin enough to accomplish this feat, or would she fail? These were the things that plagued her mind as she walked down the carpet lined hallway in the guild toward her quarters.

  When Zoey had first arrived in the guild, she was made to sleep in the barn in an empty horse stall. The narrow bed was hard, it was freezing, and the animals kept her awake most nights. She had born it with a quiet sadness and then learned to ignore it. She never let it stop her from accomplishing her task. It was a miracle she had not caught her death from the blindingly low temperatures she trudged through every morning to get her breakfast. It wasn't until she passed her first trial and was rewarded better living quarters that she realized all things had to be earned and that in obtaining a higher place, you could gain more comfort.

  As a Dragon Assassin, she had all the comforts she could imagine. Her bed was huge, her wardrobe full of expensive silks and clothing, jewels larger than her own fist and, of course, the best weapons gold and silver could buy. It wasn't always this way, and the memories of before lent a shudder to Zoey's spine as she fought back the frightened tears that still burst to the front of her eyes every time she thought of that night. Shoving the thoughts away Zoey whispered the spell that opened her gilded doors, pushing a jeweled key into the lock she turned it and watched as the doors swung back on their own.

  Her quarters were an oasis of elegant beauty. A bed, the size of a small swimming pool, sat in the center of the room upon a raised dais of black marble shot through with silver. Her bedclothes made of the most expensive silk in a royal purple befitting her station; with huge furs of the softest creatures, Astra had to keet her warm during the colder nights. A sheer curtain of silver ran around the top of the bed, lending privacy by creating shadows of the people upon the bed. Her carpeted floors were lined with a dense black pile carpet that felt like a million soft fingers caressing your feet as you walked through it.

  The wardrobe stood off to the left next to the vanity, both where the same marble that held the bed with veins of silver running through them. The vanity held a round mirror that seemed to have wolves carved into the edges that romped in play. She had large window doors to the right of the room that led to a private balcony that overlooked the rose garden and poisonous plant selection the guild grew to supplement their income. It wasn't a necessary thing more of a pass time for a killer who needed a place to reset.

  Zoey began to strip herself of her gear when she noticed a box that sat on her reading couch. She wasn't expecting a shipment of any kin
d: her curiosity peaked, she ventured towards the box to investigate. Zoey used a tracer spell first to make sure the box wasn't a trap before she tore the lid off. She gazed down at the dress in the box before her, reluctant to touch the garment, as it didn't seem real. It had been a long time since Zoey had been home to the palace and even longer since she had worn a proper gown. It was true she had dressed in several ways to get close to her marks, but all those garments had to be altered for fighting and gave the illusion of a dress or gown when they were nothing more than pretty fighting gear. Zoey had become accustomed to her assassin's leathers, hood, and mask, she found peace in their concealment. A real gown would be unusual.

  Zoey pulled the dress from the box, a frown spoiling her happiness at wearing a proper gown once more. The garment she held was far too small for her lean muscular body, not to mention too short. It was as if the palace servants had sent her one of Sasha's hand me downs, the hem of the dress was torn and frayed, with small grass stains marring the white of the lace. The anger that rose in Zoey's chest had caught her by surprise. She had never been jealous of Sasha until now. Her body shook in fury as she gathered the folds of the green silk dress and tore it to pieces.

  She growled an hissed as she worked, spittle flying from her lips as her blades danced through the air shredding the garment. Every bit of bitterness and longing for any other position than the one she held, filled her heart. The beatings, the bruises, the lash all fell across her skin as if Sasha dealt the blows herself. Zoey collapsed in a puddle of tears on her midnight black carpet; all this time, she had held her love for her sister and mother like a shield in her heart only to have it ripped away by one thoughtlessly gifted used gown.

  Zoey still had no choice but to attend the ball, but it would be in a gown of her choosing. Each mark she had completed as a Dragon Assassin had rewarded her in silk, jewels, or coin. Zoey kept a chest full of these items in a false wall inside the back of her wardrobe. She threw open the door and stepped in, using her arms to push the hanging garments aside she pushed her way into the wardrobe till her hands found the back wall. Detecting the critical depression, she tapped out a familiar rhythm causing the door to her secret compartment to open.

  Pushing herself back out of the wardrobe Zoey pulled open the door in the side of her wardrobe that stood open just a crack. The small five foot by ten-foot room held a variety of shelves with jewels and spelled items while the floor was littered with gemstones, silver, and gold coins. Opening up her money purse, Zoey dropped enough coins and gems into it to buy a small army.

  Leaving the guild house again tonight would cost her nothing as she held permissions to come and go as she pleased. One more adventure could not hurt, and it would soothe her temper to run across the rooftops to her destination. Zoey swept the destroyed gown into a tight pile in the middle of the floor, baffled at how she could make the monstrosity disappear. Her eyes roamed her room, her anger still driving her desires as her eyes fell upon the fire filled grate that kept her room warm.

  A smile like a sun driving out the night lit her features as she swept the pieces of the gown from the floor and headed towards the grate. Piece by piece, she fed the remains of the dress into the fire, her anger dissipating as each piece burned to ash. It brought a sense of peace and reassured her decision to find a new dress before she and Zephyr were made to depart for the palace. She stops to wonder briefly if Zephyr was experiencing the small problems she was but let the thought slip into the night as boys had fewer garments to wear than girls, and their formal wear was easy to obtain. Gowns took days to make and fit, let alone to find the right fashion so as not to embarrass her sister.

  Grabbing her purse laden with jewels and gold, Zoey slipped into the night. She left from her private balcony, preferring to travel over the top of the city than to use the streets. Up here, nothing could surprise her or interfere with her path; it was a freedom one could not find using everyday roads. The nights had grown warmer over the last few months, and the cool breeze that caressed her skin felt delightful as she leapt from house to house without a sound. She traveled fast through the city, heading for the garment district and a seamstress she knew there.

  Lydia was a master of her craft and should be working in the capital but preferred to make her snobby client come to her for the fantastic designs she created. It made Zoey chuckle as she knew Lydia held the nobles in little regard, and she made it known with her fitting pins that were known to jab those who misbehaved in her presence. The hour was late, and the sun had gone to bed, but an hour ago, Zoey knew Lydia would open her door for the right amount of coin, and Zoey had plenty. She needed Lydia to craft the masterpiece she held in her mind. She would look every bit the princess but have every tool she needed to keep her sister safe.

  There would be no humiliating hand me down dress for the assassin of the Queen of all Astra. She would make her Pride proud and show her mother that the years she had spent on her mission were well founded. Making the last leap toward the top of the wool shop, Zoey finally let her feet touch the earth. Most of the shops were closed for the night, with no lights in the windows, Lydia's shop was still blazing with light and customers as ladies frittered here and there discussing the merchandise they fancied. Lydia was a petite woman, small in stature, but her voice could carry far beyond this town to the next.

  Zoey stood against the wall and watched as Lydia made sale after sale, forcing women from all walks of life out of her store. She sold something for everyone, one so it was no surprise to see a mixture of people. The fact that they got along with each other, and no one was rude to anyone else was the surprising part. Zoey had checked repeatedly but could find no soothing spells or magic for this phenomena, yet it occurred. It made the lioness she carried in her blood just a tad bit annoyed that she could find no explanation for all the effortless cooperation, but for her designs, Zoey would look the other way no matter how she managed to do it. Magically speaking, she wasn't exactly a powerhouse, but she was endearing, and she often felt the need to protect her when she was around. It was odd, but Zoey was not the only one, and it seemed to allow her to keep the peace at her store.

  “Zoey, my girl, it has been a long time. How is my favorite assassin fairing in her training?" Lydia asked the curiosity in her voice let Zoey know she was genuinely interested in her progress.

  “It goes well, I hold the Dragon Assassin title now and have made it onto the top elite squad. I should graduate soon, though I must train until I am eighteen by order of the Queen.”

  "And what would the Queen have to do with yer training lass?" Lydia said, raising an eyebrow. Zoey paused, unsure if she should continue, she had assumed that everyone knew of the princess sent to be an assassin. Could it be possible that Lydia had not heard the story?

  “I am to work for her once I reach the age of maturity," Zoey said, keeping it as vague as possible. She needed Lydia's help, and if she thought Zoey had lied to her, she might not agree to make her gown. It was hard to work with dragons; they were a skilled lot but often held strange ideas about right and wrong. They detested liars and refused almost outright to be used by any royalty but their own. Zoey was taking a big chance by leaving out the details of her parentage.

  "Aye, there could be only one girl who could hold that title princess. Why do ye play, coy?" Lydia asked, one eyebrow raised and a smirk on her face. It looked like Zoey's ruse was at an end. Honesty, in some instances, could be favorable if the secret could be held by those it was entrusted to no matter the cost. Most knew of Zoey's mission; what they didn't know was what she looked like or who she was. She paraded herself as a lowly assassin and nothing more, to do more would be to bring trouble she had no time to deal with as her training kept her busy.

  In the early days out of desperation, she had pulled rank; all it had gotten her was bloody and beaten on the street. No one believed the princess of the royal lion kingdom would be in a tavern dressed like a street urchin. For Zoey, the moment had been a humiliation she woul
d never forget. To be called ugly, dirty, and good for nothing was shocking to her young mind. It lent her knowledge of why the street children she had seen shied away from the adults and also why they stole anything they could get their little fingers on. It was a means of survival; Zoey was grateful never to have fully experienced.

  "I try not to use anything but what I have earned. The title I was born with." Zoey said slowly, hoping to convince the dragon she meant no harm. Her lioness had been quiet these past few months, which was unusual. By now, her other half should have been pacing and pushing for the change, but she seemed to lay quiet under the blanket of magic Zoey had been using as of late to complete her assignments.

  “I see, so ye rather be noticed for yer accomplishments than yer title?” Lydia questioned her voice low and sure. It was almost as if she was searching for something specific. Zoey wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but she would give the dragoness an honest answer.

  "I would be seen as I am, not as I was born. I haven't been a true princess for a long time. Blood stains my hands in rivers, yet I do it at the request of those I love the most." Zoey thought her answer was fitting if a bit cryptic. It was the only way she could relay her thoughts without the bitterness shining through. It was getting worse as of late, and it was taking everything Zoey had not to unleash her anger on the unsuspecting.

  "An honest answer from a noble heart, such a rarity you are child. This gown, I will help with, to say I had a hand in it." Lydia said as she gathered her skirts in one hand and led Zoey towards her fitting room in the back of her shop. The carpet in the hallway was plush and made barely a whisper as Zoey followed the dragon seamstress. The corridor itself was dull with no pictures or tapestries. It made Zoey wonder if she had gotten herself into trouble. It was nothing she was afraid of; it would just be inconvenient.