The Assassin Princess (The Legacy Novels Book 1) Page 12

  The unicorn stepped back, the shackles chinking tight. “You don’t know what this could do,” he said, trying to shake his head away from her. “It might be the end of you.”

  “Hold still,” she said, and her hand slipped up to his horn.

  A brilliant purple light flowed from her hand and traced the spiral of the crystal, small white flecks running through the colour, twisting round and round. It continued downward and passed through his body, his mane and tail shedding sparks. The unicorn began to glow and they both closed their eyes against the light, a flame blooming from the horn, shooting to the roof of the cave. It hit the rock and fell as snow, settling perfect and luminous white on the unicorn’s coat.

  Talos came forward, the chains and manacles breaking and falling to the ground as he emerged in his own light, his coat shining, his horn once dull and used, now a sparkling and pulsing purple-white. The power was draining from Ami as she continued to feed the unicorn, giving him back the magic he’d once had. Then, knowing the moment was right, she released him. The purple light seeped away and faded.

  She stepped back, leaning against the wall for a moment as she looked upon the magnificent creature. Standing tall and proud, Talos lit up the cave like a torch, his coat giving off a misty-white glow, his horn a beacon of light that outshone the sword in Ami’s hand many times over, expelling all shadows.

  The old men shielded their eyes and cowered into the rocks—so many lining each side of the rough path. She would come back and free them, she had to.

  “Thank you, Princess Ami,” Talos said, stretching his back legs. “I’m grateful, more than you will ever know. You have restored me—but this is a dangerous thing you’ve done. Adam will not let us leave.”

  “Could we not face him? Together?” she asked, raising the sword in her hand, Dangerous still with her. “Surely we’ve enough power between us?”

  “You would go against him, even after everything I have told you?” Talos stared down at her and blew his lips. “You are the brave one aren’t you? A true daughter of Legacy.” He looked out across the lines of chained men, moans and garbled words still spilling from their confused minds, and then looked back to Ami. “He still needs you, and as for me, what have I got to lose? So yes. Let us try.”

  Ami smiled, thrilled.

  “But be on your guard. Pull your power together and use the sword.” Talos bowed to the ground, low enough for Ami to climb upon his back. “Channel your power into the sword, for it also has much power you can use, and then, with both of us together? Maybe, maybe we can get away.”

  “Where will we go? Can we travel through the layers?” Ami asked as she swung her leg up and over and was hoisted into the air.

  “Once we are out, I’ll have enough strength to take us through the layers, and then…I think I want to go home,” he said, and focussed on the path ahead. “Now hold on tight and get ready to release your power, Princess.”

  Ami held tightly to his snow-white mane and felt Dangerous readying herself, preparing for battle.

  *

  As they left the mouth of the cave, Ami saw him standing at the water’s edge, his hands behind his back, his hair swept from his porcelain face with the wind. He was staring at her. He’d been waiting.

  She held the sword before her, and they charged forward from the mouth of the cave, purple beads of light running the length of the blade targeted directly at her dark brother.

  And then, as sudden as their leaving the dark for the light, the world flipped, and flipped again.

  The sun dazzled, the sea a mosaic of glass, and she hit the ground hard.

  Her shoulder cracked and Ami gritted her teeth against the pain that ran across her chest. Everything had slanted, the water slapping her face. She turned her head toward the cliff, ignoring the bolt of pain that shot down her neck. Her eyes found the dark cave, and the unicorn before it, now muzzle down in the sand, Adam standing over him.

  She pushed herself up, dizzy, and scrambled toward Talos.

  The unicorn’s legs had fallen beneath him and Adam’s foot was planted squarely on the creature’s neck. There was a curious black substance creeping around the base of his horn. It looked like rubber, and was tinged with green light and flame. It sheathed his power.

  “I told you it would be interesting,” Adam said, watching her struggle toward them. His eyes were on fire and pushing into her mind. She slowed, her arms and legs heavy. Ami looked away, Dangerous searching instead for the unicorn’s eyes. Who you really are they said. “Time to get rid of the problem here, wouldn’t you say? Now where is it?”

  Adam’s foot stroked down the unicorn’s back and up his neck.

  “Oh yes, here it is,” he raised his foot, and Ami knew what was to happen. She felt the weight of the sword in her hand still, and she brought it forward, hoping it would be enough, that it would do something to stop him—but pain exploded in her shoulder, and the blade dropped.

  A second later Adam’s foot came down on the trapped horn, breaking the crystal from Talos’s head in a white blast of light that threw both of them to the ground. Talos cried out and the shard of crystal horn flew through the air, landing a few feet to Ami’s left, embedding itself in the sand. On his head, only a stump remained, flashing purple for a moment before flickering out.

  Adam laughed. “And it’s done.”

  Ami felt Dangerous swell up inside her, the power hers and the pain forgotten. She grabbed up the sword from the ground, and went forward toward the unicorn. Adam turned to her, but made no move to stop her.

  She stood in front of Talos, the blade between them, and looked down at him. His coat still held its glow, though his eyes were fearful.

  “Finish him then,” Adam said. “I dare you to try, sister. I’ve been trying for years, and the creature just won’t die.”

  “Will you finish me?” Talos asked, his voice so quiet that only Ami heard him below the wind and waves. “Will this be the last of me?”

  His story ran through her head, the cine film of a beautiful life so tragically taken, used, pointlessly crushed and left to rot in a dark place, far away from his land, his people, his home.

  Would this be her fate also, once Adam had finished with her?

  Adam waited impatiently behind her, and she knew that if she were to do something heroic, it had to be soon. She submitted to Dangerous.

  “No,” she said, and smiled. “Go home.” She raised the blade high, and slashed the ground between them.

  The beach split and peeled back like canvas, revealing a rip of white light and sparkles, ribbons that spilled to the sand. Adam moved forward but Dangerous paid him no mind as she reached down and grabbed the unicorn by the stump of his horn and slid him into the rip. He disappeared. The rip sealed.

  Breathing heavily, Ami collapsed to the ground and covered her eyes with her fingers. Dangerous had retreated and Ami gave way to tears, now hot on her skin.

  The sword had fallen.

  She was in more pain than she’d ever felt in her life, and she felt more alone than she’d ever been before, stuck in a world of magical horrors and mysterious ways. She didn’t really know what she’d just done or how she’d done it, but she knew Adam would be furious.

  She waited for him, listening to the music above, and to the voices that drifted just beyond it.

  *

  She watched the horizon, the magical place where the sky met the sea, where the sun burned hot above and shattered across the ocean. It was peaceful.

  Adam had turned her onto her back with his foot, and she’d submitted, her tears gone, her eyes sore and exposed to the humid air. He was looking at her. He hadn’t said a word, though his eyes bore into her soul.

  And so Ami kept her eyes on the magic.

  In his hand was the shard of horn. He rolled it between his fingers, showering sparks of reflected sunlight across her face. She didn’t want to look at the horn, at Adam’s prize of cruelty. Talos could be dead for all she knew. She’d saved the
unicorn from Adam, but perhaps the damage had already been done? How could she know? How could she know anything?

  She didn’t belong here.

  Her tears threatened again as she thought of those she’d lost. Her parents, and then Hero. Talos. How much more could she gain and lose? Dangerous was her only companion. She focussed on the horizon at the exact point where the two worlds met, but Adam shifted to block her view. The sun was behind him, giving him a halo he didn’t deserve. His black hair was like dark fire, his shadow falling fully across her.

  He extended his hand and passed the shard of crystal horn to her. At first she didn’t move, she didn’t want to touch it, didn’t want to acknowledge it, but he poked her palm with it, its sharp edge cutting her. She grasped it.

  She’d had in mind to throw it aside, but she didn’t. Instead she loosened her grip and felt its weight. It felt good. Her eyes were drawn to it, and as she watched, the dead crystal grew long and thin in her hand. It shone white, glowing, before smoothing out into shining steel.

  Ami lifted the sword. It was a katana, just like Adam’s sword, just like Hero’s.

  Adam snatched it back from her and threw it to the sand, the blade slicing into the ground. “Not quite yet,” he said, his expression blank.

  Why was Dangerous not with her now? Had she deserted her? She searched for her in her mind but couldn’t find her. Only Ami the art student remained. Except, no, she was much more than that now. Adam had his own sword in his grip and was running his fingers along the blade, cutting his flesh, the blood dripping to the sand beside her head.

  “What are you going to do to me?” she asked, wincing with each drop of red.

  Adam looked down at her, his features demented. “You lost me my horse,” he said and stamped down on her shoulder.

  Ami screamed, pain tensing its sudden claws into her, white flashes flickering behind her eyes. Her vision darkened and she knew she was close to passing out, yet somehow her mouth was moving and she was pleading. “Please, no, please don’t hurt me.”

  “Hurt you?” His eyes flared and flashed. “Hurt you? Oh, you wound me, little sister. You truly do. I give you trust, power, potential, and what do you go and do with it? Hurt you?”

  Adam shifted his foot down from her shoulder to her arm and pinned her hard to the ground, pointing his sword down toward her.

  She whimpered louder, searching desperately for Dangerous, the pain’s grip twisting her guts, wringing them—she felt sick, and the blackness threatened again. Dangerous had all the strength, all the power. Where was she?

  “You did what I expected you to do,” he said, his voice verbal venom as she felt the tip of the blade playing against her dress, pulling it gently from her shoulder. A bruise was already forming. “I knew you wouldn’t be loyal, wouldn’t be obedient.” He pressed the tip into the bruise, and Ami screamed. The people, she thought, dancing on the cliff. Can’t they hear me? But she knew they couldn’t help even if they could hear her, and they’d die if they tried. “How am I ever meant to trust you, unless I can control you, huh?”

  His teeth were clenched in a horrific grin, his melted skin sheened in sweat.

  Where was Dangerous? Ami closed her eyes to search, hiding from death while gladly welcoming unconsciousness. She saw the mirror in her mind, the arches, the columns, the rosebush and walkway—up there a tower, over there a face peering through the forest, blonde hair flicked and gone. Where was Dangerous? She couldn’t see her. The sky was turning black.

  “Well, maybe I just need to go a little deeper,” Adam said, far, far away. He pierced her shoulder with the blade. Ami’s eyes flew open with the pain. It burned cold inside her, yet her skin burst into heat. She felt dizzy, the blade going deeper into her flesh, her blood seeping out around the metal.

  Green flames licked downward and into her skin, gathering and glowing, sinking into her and flowing through her veins, muscles, and tendons. There was screaming far off in the distance, maybe from the magical horizon, from the broken light that lifted and fell upon the water in thousands of pieces; perhaps from the cliff above, for a love that’d fallen—but she knew it was her scream. She screamed as her body set aflame and burned.

  *

  The music from above was faint, but she was able to hear it better now. She heard singing, laughing—could hear footsteps on gravel—a dance, the shift of a dress; she could even smell the sweet scented perfume over the rotting salt of the sea.

  And then Ami opened her eyes.

  Between the arches, the moon was lit a dull green, full and jade. The columns were tall and she walked between them, touching the stone, the marble, her booted feet stepping carefully through them. Her hands were a sickly-pale white. Turning, she looked for the rosebush. The flowers were dark red, a clash with the green that fought and fought and—

  Ami opened her eyes and looked up the vertical climb to the top of the cliff. Singing, music, serene and tribal, Celtic maybe. She sighed and then sat up straight, shielding her eyes from the sun.

  Adam looked down from afar, the red-tipped sword at his side. She looked from the blade to her shoulder, but the wound was gone and her skin was left unmarked, though paler to her eyes.

  “I’m alive,” she said, blinking and looking around her. “You didn’t kill me.” She wasn’t just alive though. Ami felt amazing. She looked down at herself and saw her own magnificence. Had she really listened to that pathetic unicorn and tried to escape?

  “Kill you? Oh no, of course not,” Adam said, offering her his hand, pulling her to her feet. “No, you’re no use to me dead, little sister.” He picked up the new sword and passed it to her.

  Ami felt the weight of it in her hand as she took hold, felt the power in it. A green glow flickered down her arm and across the blade, sparking at the tip.

  The music above was clearer, and when she looked up fully, she saw the colours of their dress all the more vividly. It was as if Adam’s power had enriched her senses to the extreme. Everything was brighter and more detailed. The smells in the air, the words spoken—she could pick out these things and absorb them. Ami wanted to see these things, wanted to be in the middle of it all, to drink it and breathe it. The dark skinned men, the olive and bronzed women, their smiles and cries—she could almost feel their wants and taste their fragrant, sweaty flesh.

  She turned to Adam. “I want to go up there.”

  “They are insignificant,” he said. “Why would you want to go up there?”

  Ami couldn’t give an answer, but not for the lack of one. Indeed, there were so many to choose from. To stand with them, unseen; to be powerful in the midst of such weakness; to take their smiles and smells and feed on their missing laughter, their dances lost to tears; to take the innocent happiness and destroy it without warning or reason…she’d take it all and leave them with nothing.

  The sword in her hand vibrated, and the power inside her burned. “I want to kill,” she said.

  “Good,” he said and took her arm, “but we need to be precise, exact. We are powerful creatures; we are gods of this world, of any world.” Ami let herself be led down the beach, stopping shy of the water. Green flames jumped between them, feeding from each other. “Look up there now with your powerful eyes, and tell me what you see.”

  Ami did, seeing the building standing alone at the edge, crumbling and old, dressed in red and white banners. Blue ribbons streamed from its tower and the windows were hung with yellow and gold fabrics. In front of the building were tables covered in food stuffs, and even at such a distance, she could see meats and cakes, stews and trifles. Children ran circles around parents, girls with ribbons, boys in shirts and ties.

  Further to the left, beyond the dancers, people crowded and clapped to the music. They swayed and stepped, holding their dresses before them. Golden bangles sparkled in the sun.

  “I see everything,” she said, “almost every detail.”

  “Yes, this is good, very good, better than I’d hoped. Look very closely now. Wha
t’s going on?”

  The crowd parted and Ami saw a man and woman standing apart from the others, their arms around each other. The woman was dressed in silk, a dress of lilac draped with scarves of white and cream.

  “It’s a wedding,” she said, taking in the scene as a whole.

  “Yes, it is,” Adam sneered, “and they have gone to such trouble to make it so beautiful, haven’t they?” He turned her to him, staring into her eyes. “How do you feel about them? What do you feel?”

  “Hate,” she said, shocked that the word had come to her so easily. “I feel hate. They don’t deserve the happiness, the beauty. I want it.”

  All the pretty colours flashed in her eyes and the celebrations were a temptation too far. She had to have them, like coloured sweets in a jar. She needed to consume. It was so simple and clear in her mind, and Adam’s power had clarified it. She was powerful, a goddess of worlds, and she would paint them upon a canvas of blood.

  “Tell me again,” Adam urged, gripping her arms tight, his sharp teeth bared.

  “I hate them,” she said, her eyes on his, the fire passing between them. “I want them dead for their beauty. I want to take it from them!” She was seething inside, energised like she’d never been before. Her old life seemed so grey in comparison, even with the colours of art. This was an all-consuming rage beneath her very soul, spurning her on to do what it was in her new nature to do.

  “Then go up there.” Adam shifted her forward toward the cliff and its people. “Go up there and take their bride from them. Use your mind, use the power and take her swiftly.” He let her go, taking the sword from her hand. “Assassinate the bride.”

  His words thrilled her, and the power rippled across her skin. The cliff came closer, and looking down she realised she’d risen into the air. Green flames carpeted her feet, lifting her toward the sun, the hot wind ruffling through her hair as she passed the rock face in a blur and landed unnoticed in the shadow of the building.