The Assassin Princess (The Legacy Novels Book 1) (7 page)

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.

“Quite the tale,
isn’t it?” Adam said, standing and looking down at her. To Ami he seemed so monstrous, 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, though 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.

“Powerful, yes, ooh yes, you are. How exciting,” he trilled. “Come then, sister. Strike me down!”

Ami felt the power boiling her blood, and
Dangerous
swung the newly formed blade toward him. Adam blocked, spinning his step to the right, around the tall stone column that had appeared. Ami spun also, counter stepping, avoiding the second column as she stepped up the three white steps in front of her. His sword came from nowhere, a sharp jab to her torso, but her blade responded perfectly, the metal striking, green and purple sparks falling to the marble floor. He struck again as the room’s scenery fell completely, and jumping, Ami twisted out of the way in time, landing a sharp blow toward his neck—deflected—more sparks falling between columns. He side-stepped and swung low, then changing direction, his blade turned and went high. Ami saw the switch and jumped forward toward him, sailing easily through his swing, and rolling forward onto the ground, righting herself and giving a swing of her own. This time though her blade caught fire as it touched Adam’s, bright, shimmering green. He slunk in behind it and pushed her to the ground.

“I will…not…submit,” she said, struggling as his blade pushed against hers, his grin looming over her, sharp teeth bared.

“You already have,” he said. “Oh, Princess, you already have.” His eyes held the same fire as his blade, and her body caught, the licking tongues covering her, spreading over her entire body. Power rushed through her, feeding her, infecting her.

A flash of purple, a spark alone but enough, and Ami pushed back, her teeth gritted, blade scraping blade. She kicked out with both feet and Adam flew backward, hitting the archway and falling down the steps. The marble and stone were blinding white in the sun, the arches towering above, incomplete against the blue and cloudless sky—all this a flash as Ami turned with Adam’s return, his swing wild, his face contorted with rage.

There were steps behind her and Ami ran down them, stopping halfway to send a bolt of power back up them, missing Adam by an inch. But now he flew down, his whole body alight in green flame. He grabbed her arm and darkness fell.

There was thunder above her, and voices calling her name.

“You can’t run from your mind, sister.” Adam’s voice in her ear, close, a sickening whisper as Ami caught aflame once more. It was electric, consuming, draining her completely, yet filling her with poison.
Vampire
, she thought, as her sword dropped to the darkness where neither of them now stood. It turned to ash and disappeared altogether.

“I don’t want to,” she whimpered, falling to her knees. Ah, but yes, yes she did want to. She knew it. She wanted to follow Adam.

He was laughing somewhere in the abyss, and the melody behind the storm died.