The Assassin Princess (The Legacy Novels Book 1) Page 25

  The effect was instantaneous, and was like coming home. In its hilt she felt the grasp of a thousand lords, the grasp of her father and the touch of his hand upon her cheek. She felt the home of a legacy destroyed in its weight, and the power to rebuild it in its steel. She raised it high and watched the power ignite it in flame.

  She pointed it at an Adam.

  *

  As Ami burst into flame Hero stumbled and fell to his knees. Something tightened around his waist and tugged him further to the ground. He reached for his fallen sword but couldn’t quite grasp it where it lay, hidden beneath the flames, the swirling shadows. Another vine snuck around his neck. He strained against it, watching Ami slice her blade at the two dark men, fingers flying. Manic laughter turned to howls as both men turned on her.

  His fingers found the hilt of his sword and he gripped, raised it and swung at the smoke around his neck, then in an arc behind him, releasing that which held around his waist.

  To his right the unicorn had also fought the flames and smoke, and now stood by Florence, his horn knitting a net of light that spread beneath both Florence and Grace. It split the darkness from their bodies and they fell into the net which he dragged from the black pool. Sentries darted above like insects, circling and crossing them, the chants becoming stronger. One must go. One must go. One must go.

  “One must go?” shouted an Adam. “One must go? Who? Who must go?” He swiped at the beings like flies and pulled his arms together in an ‘X’ shape, his shadow following suit, bringing the sea of black closer around them all. “We say you’ll all die. Legacy is mine, mine.”

  Hero looked to the stranger-girl, the other Ami, watching her fight as he did, swinging her blade at the flames. Yet there was doubt in Ami, and already her light was fading, her actions waning, while the stranger-girl’s remained bright and quick. This was what he was meant to change, but how…? The Sentries above seemed unable to close in on the Adams, rebounding on the dark power, and Hero’s mind whirred as he watched them for a moment, and something began to form there. Yes, a plan, a half formed idea that—in the split second he’d thought it up—sounded good, sounded right.

  The Adams focussed in on the Amis and moved forward, wading through the fiery lake, their movements the mirror of each other.

  Hero shouted, “You need to work together. You are both Ami, you are one person.” The sound of the flames around him roared like the sea, and at the sound of his voice they rose up, the vines finding their grip again on his legs, his arms. His sword slipped from his grasp and was lost once more, his power weak, draining. “You both have the power. Use it as one!”

  He felt flames enter his mouth, a serpent tunnelling into his throat. He was no immortal, he was only a man and he would die. He pushed and pulled, but it was useless. Hero was dragged under as a flash of light flew over his head.

  *

  Ami heard Hero’s cry and watched the flame rise upon his body and grab him. She looked to Dangerous and she thought back to the mirrors. Dangerous, the persona she had chosen for herself, the girl who was braver than she, tougher, fierce and sassy. She could do anything and no one could touch her. That’s why she had chosen her, and that’s why she had become her. Ami the artist was no match for the powers of this world, the secrets within—but as an Assassin Princess, she was Dangerous.

  She reached out and grabbed her familiar’s hand, and even as the Adams approached, grinning their distorted grins, laughing their demented laughs, fingerless hands swiping through the flames, she looked into her own eyes and saw herself in them. Both pairs burst into coloured flame, and both poised their blades above and forward, coiled and ready to strike.

  “Sisters,” the Adams said, “we have no further need of you. We are the Lords of Lega—”

  Their fires joined and grew between them, a bonfire of magic, shooting missiles of light from their connected swords into the dark men. They broke from each other in an explosion of purple and green flame, the black fire collapsing into the mist, revealing Hero on the ground, gasping for air, his hands to his chest and throat.

  The Adams rose, apart yet still as one, but Ami knew now what to do. Shadows, mirrors, reflections of the powers within. Everything Dangerous was, was already inside her, doubled and mirrored, shadowed in Dangerous. The Shadow Princess. The Assassin Princess. She smiled and her double smiled as they crossed blades and pivoted, dancing around the dark men and slicing through the deep blue air and at each Adam in turn. The sword met with darkness as the Adams defended themselves, the power still flowing from them, their smiles a permanent insanity. The blades cut and howls of angry cries were doubled.

  Hero was on his feet as the Sentries above swirled ever closer, their chants clearer. One must go. One must go. One must go. One hadn’t gone since her father’s retreat through the ruins, for Ami hadn’t returned through the Mortrus Lands. One must go, and it was going to be her. It was going to be all of them, except for Adam.

  “The portals,” Hero growled, holding his throat and coughing, “use the portals.” He pointed to the hollows, the Sentries now closing in on Ami, picking her out against Dangerous. The Adams targeted her, and Ami jumped, turned, rolled in the mist and slid past them in a skid, her skills as a Princess of Legacy still fluid. Bending backward she thrust the sword behind her and caught an Adam across his thigh. He fell, bent at the knee, and the other, as his power ally and shadow, dropped with him.

  “Now,” Hero shouted, skipping backward to join Grace and the others who’d created a crescent around them.

  Ami looked over at Ami and both nodded, their swords poised over each Adam—then his hand was on her wrist, his eyes staring into hers.

  “Remember, Sister, who you are.”

  From his grip was an influx of power, bright green and horrid. She felt it invade her, penetrate her and wriggle its way into her mind, around her heart. She closed her eyes and saw each act she needed to perform. She would spin, half a turn, and lunge forward, catching Hero in the abdomen, spinning once to take Lady Grace’s head from her body. She would kill the unicorn, her father, the girl and the Guard. She’d kill them all, taking their self-satisfied pride and power with her. She’d bow before Adam at the ruined castle and offer her neck to his sacrifice, giving all of her power to him gladly, and her life. Yes. It was so simple and so close to completion.

  Her eyes opened and her blade began to lower.

  “No, Ami,” Hero called. “Don’t give in. You’re better than this, you are the princess.”

  Adam laughed. “Princess of Pain, Princess of Death.” Dangerous fought off an attack from the dark Adam, holding him at bay, but for how long? Ami turned to Adam and looked into his eyes.

  “My Lord,” she said, smiling, “my Lord of Legacy.”

  “Ami, you are more than the princess. You are Ami, your own person. Choose yourself.” But Hero’s cries fell on deaf ears as Adam rose to his feet, as Dangerous fell to her knees, dark Adam standing over her.

  Ami fell to hers before him, her head bowed, a green fire creeping across her body at his touch. She burned for him, burned in his service.

  “One must go,” the Sentries chanted and descended on Ami, the six spheres lengthening once more into pillars of light. “One must go.”

  “My powerful assassin,” Adam preened, “exiled in madness to destroy the world—you can start with your own layer.” He sneered and she nodded, was lifted into the light even as Hero rushed to save her, as Talos and Graeme ran to her aid, as Raven called out and the young Grace watched in horror and hiding.

  The Sentries chanted in her ears as she ascended and merged with them, a fully encompassed ball of light that lifted higher and higher into the air. “One must go. One must go. One must—”

  The chanting stopped, as had their ascent. All was silent for a moment, a ringing silence that pounded in all ears that listened.

  Then Ami pushed her blade deep into the Sentries light. “Take your power,” she whispered through flames of green that ra
n down her body like rain. “I’ll take your power, take all you have and make it my own. Take your happiness and beauty, your fear and terror. It’s mine.”

  The blade pulsed with white and Ami fed from the fount, her mind flooding with images and secrets of a world once whole. She saw the beings as they’d once been, saw the world they’d lived in and how they’d shattered it. She saw the layers splice and slice and fall away from the whole until all that remained was fragmented copies of the one world, left to run their own course, a different course for each. She saw the societies develop or fail, the wildlife thrive and disappear, saw humans multiply and become extinct. She saw the portals and where they broke into each layer—all the memories and combined knowledge and power.

  Her eyes opened and Ami smiled.

  The spheres separated and winked from existence as Ami fell to her feet before them. She raised her head and looked between the two Adams.

  “Stop,” she said, raising her hand. Their advances stopped. Adam’s smooth, white forehead creased, his limbs unable to move.

  “What the—”

  “I control the power now, for I am the fount of all in this layer.” She understood everything. Everything. “I own your power. I own you, Brother,” she proclaimed.

  Ami raised her sword and Dangerous joined her, their blades pointing at the Adams. Neither could move, neither Adam nor shadow. Their eyes burned fierce black confusion, their lips moving soundlessly to form words no longer permitted.

  They moved as one, the Shadow Princess impaling the shadow Adam, and the Assassin Princess impaling her own. Each opened his mouth to scream a silent scream, a smoke of blackness rushing past their teeth as both swords touched and slid against each other, pairing the two Adams back-to-black. Pivoting, Ami aimed them at the trunks of hollows and pushed forward, sliding them from the blades like food from a cocktail stick.

  The two fell together into the hollow and immediately burst into white flame, burning as one man. The last they saw of Adam was his eyes, wide and scared, returned to their original blue-grey.

  *

  As Adam disappeared for good, the man and his shadow, Ami fell to the ground. Hero rushed to her side, lifting her into his arms and watched with falling tears as the pure white power that had been hers for an instant, vacated her unconscious body. The power floated across the mist, lurching up into the six hollowed trees as if too weak to carry on. There it bled into the trunks themselves before settling and disappearing.

  Ami remained unconscious, though the stranger-girl remained, simply standing and watching, her part now at an end. Hero lifted her and carried her toward her mother and father. Lord Graeme took her and held her close, his child, his Ami.

  Talos nuzzled Florence, licking at her hair, while Raven sat down on the ground, looking around him. The forest was silent so suddenly, as if it had never been before. Grace touched Hero’s arm and he looked into her eyes.

  “You left, and I know where you went,” she said, her voice soft and yet still the loudest thing in the forest, “for there are three of me still and all are linked in some form or another, as all the layers are. You know what I must do.”

  Hero looked between her and the dark portal. “Is it time for you to move on?”

  She nodded, and Graeme, stroking Ami’s hair, nodded also. “I’ll see you soon, my Lady.” He bent and kissed Grace tenderly on the corner of her wrinkled mouth. She smiled, bowed, and walked to the trees.

  She turned back for one last look at them. “I look forward to my new life,” she said, “and I look forward to yours.”

  Hero moved as if to stop her but didn’t, and Lady Grace stepped one foot, then the other into the hollow of one of the trees. In a flash of white flame, she disappeared.

  “You must all leave through the ruins,” Shadow Ami said. “It’s the only way for any to leave the Mortrus Lands and keep their sanity. Shadows may be created, but they will not be very strong if they are. The Sentries are diminished and may well soon die.”

  Hero stood before her and stared into her eyes. “Ami, is it over? What is to happen?”

  “I cannot tell you what is to happen, dear Hero of the Guard.” She smiled and stroked her hand across his roughened cheek. “I can only tell you that this tale is near an end, and you have won. I shall remain, though I cannot leave these woods for long. You’ll be seeing me.”

  A moment later, Ami began to wake in Graeme’s arms. She looked up at her father and hugged him tight, her arms clinging around his neck.

  “Where has Adam gone?” Raven asked from the ground. “I don’t understand.”

  “On to another layer,” Shadow Ami said. “He is now a new person, somewhere else, sometime other than now. He may remember, in time, or he may not. Either way, it’s doubtful he will have power. He will just be lost in the legacy of the Sentries.”

  “And what of them?” Florence asked, sheathing her sword. “What of these beings? They controlled all of this. If they die, what happens then?”

  “The people of Legacy have never needed a lord from the Mortrus Lands,” Graeme said, “just a reason to exist and be happy. They lost hope when an heir did not return only because they believed they needed one. We can survive.”

  Talos raised his head. “Will the unicorn power leave our people?”

  “Only time will tell,” Shadow Ami said. “We know nothing. Though, I suspect it shall continue, as will the power of all that it spawned.”

  Ami dropped from her father’s grasp and walked to her shadow, to Dangerous. “Thank you,” she said, “for everything you have done here.”

  “You have done,” she said, “you are doing and will do. I am but a shadow, working as you work, thinking as you think, doing the things that you do.”

  “But you are powerful and skilled and—”

  “So are you. Believe in yourself.” She smiled and brought Ami into a hug. Both green and purple light tickled across them, stroking their skin. She lifted their blades and presented the hilt to Ami. “This symbol means infinity, forever. Your power is forever.” A figure ‘8’ on its side adorned the hilt, a second on the blade’s base. Ami smiled.

  “It will be Legacy’s symbol too,” Hero said. “Legacy forever, because of you, Princess Ami.”

  The young Grace had appeared, and after a short time they all followed her small steps, through the mist and into the ruins of her own creation. There, against the backdrop of a secret place of a creative mind, they gathered upon the platform, entering the archways tentatively, reappearing at the edge of the dark forest, each in turn stepping to the spring and drinking from it. It had been a long time in the dark.

  The day had not yet fallen to evening, had in fact been just as they’d left it. The golden light shifted through the tops of the green and brown of a living forest, and the birds sang their evening tunes, welcoming the warm night and the chance to rest.

  Ami slept on the journey back to Legacy, laying upon the back of the next-girl, forever and always how she would think of the unicorn that now rode through the lands at whisper-quick speed. Holding on to her was Hero, Talos carrying Graeme and Raven, the unicorn keeping equal pace with his mate.

  None spoke on their journey, not until they had risen along the destroyed mountain road, the unicorns carefully picking their way through, round and over the fallen rock. The city was destroyed, its people distraught. Thousands had died and many were dying, and as the sun set across the western sea, breaking its orange spill into shifting fragments like broken ice, the small group reached the source of destruction and the space that had once been the castle.

  Graeme and Hero dismounted, while Raven lay weeping upon Talos’s back.

  “Gone,” Hero said.

  “Yes,” Graeme replied simply, “but it was not your fault, Hero. If Ami had to believe in herself to accomplish the salvation of all layers, then you, I am sure, can stop blaming yourself for the actions of others. You may be named by your very nature, but it does not mean you have to be everybody’s
hero. Even if you are only hero to one person, you have accomplished your namesake.” He took his shoulder and squeezed it gently, nodding toward Ami.

  Exhausted, blackened with dirt, ash and dust, Ami slipped from Florina’s back and shuffled forward, holding her sword of the first unicorn slain, the core of all of their power. She withdrew it from its sheath and held it up to the dying rays of the day, inspecting the symbol ∞. “Infinity. Forever.”

  “Legend has it,” Talos said, “that the castle was in fact created by the sword itself. The power of our race, and the Sentries before us, it would seem, is first and foremost a power to create for necessity.”

  “Do you think it could work again?” Ami said, the spark returning to her eyes. Purple sheened her waxen skin, green following it.

  Hero exchanged glances with Graeme, who shrugged.

  “I doubt anyone knew what would happen the first time, so…give it a go.”

  Ami looked down and paced, looking for the right spot. She came to the foot of the stairs and walked out into what had been the courtyard, descending the steps to the destroyed road. She stopped and turned to the outlying lands to the east. The Planrus Lands were there, under the darkened sky, the stars sparkling above.

  “Here,” she said, and raised the sword. Like a dagger to the heart, Ami drove the blade deep into the mountain rock, and the peak began to shake. As rock formed walls rose around her, she gave a smile to the night and watched her creation grow.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Hero and Ami walked hand in hand through the lush meadow.

  The sky was a gorgeous rippled blue, the gilded sides of clouds more magical than she thought she could ever paint, yet Hero disagreed.