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

“I understand,” he said, realising that Daniel was becoming less and less, that it was Hero of the Guard that now spoke, and Hero had only just begun to truly understand how things were. For what life would it be for a free spirit as she to live by rules set by others? Used by Legacy, used by Adam. He thought of what Florina had said when she’d found her true self once more.
Run free.
“She needs to know she can run free.”

“Exactly, Hero, yes,” Charlotte said. “Others can tether her to themselves, but she has it within herself, always, to run free from it all, if she chooses to. This is the message you must carry to her in your heart, for she is powerful, so very powerful—more powerful than the unicorns, more powerful than Adam—and if she realises it, Ami can be whoever she wants to be. Take this to her, and make her believe. You will save her, Hero. You will save her.”

He placed the towel on his lap, looking at his hands, hands that had never held a sword—too smooth, too soft—could he now even hold one up? “But I am no longer Hero, I am Daniel. How am I meant to help her?”

“Going through the portals changes you, gives you a new life, a new identity. You must save her from Adam. Use the portals.” Charlotte then looked down to the carpet where a wisp of smoke rose from the fabrics. Daniel’s thoughts jumped immediately to fire, danger, extinguishers, firemen, but as the flame ignited and burst forth, Hero was the one to drop to his knees and close his eyes before it. He knew. Somehow, he knew.

As the flames caught and burned through the carpet, a forest floor snuck beneath him, tall pines surrounding him. He was back in the in-between place of secret meetings and sacred messages. In the air was a Celtic tune that floated beneath the canopied sky. The fire rose and revealed the girl who sat opposite.

“Hero of the Guard,” the
stranger-girl
said, “come back with me now. We need you.”

“Ami,” he whispered, “it
is
you?”

“Hero,” Charlotte said from somewhere far away, in another land, in another layer, “remember and make her realise. Use the power.”

A blade was passed through the flames. “Take hold,”
stranger-girl
said.

Hero took a breath then took the blade. The forest became sky, air, grass and white marble, columns and arches, and a smouldering pile of wood.

“Welcome back, Hero,” the girl said. “Come, we need you.” She took his hand and pulled him from the ground and across the marble platform. He stopped at the top of the steps and looked down across a stone walkway. There stood Ami.

Hero looked between the two.

“How are there two of you?” He shook his head and let go of the first’s hand. “I don’t understand.”

The
stranger-girl
turned to him. “Think of me as a Shadow Princess. I am that which will always be here, a double, like young Grace.” She pointed to the small blonde girl who darted now into the shadow of the trees. “And like the Dark Adam. Oh yes,” she said, nodding, looking Hero deep in the eye. “Anyone who escapes the Mortrus Lands leaves a little part of themselves here. Grace, when she found and created herself a portal of escape; Adam, when he tore his way through after losing his mind in the blue; and I, from when this Ami leaves here too. We are eternal. Time is no such barrier, and we are forever.”

“A Dark Adam? There are two of him too? That means—”

“It means you need two princesses to defeat him,” she said, looking down at Ami. “The Shadow Princess, and the Assassin Princess.”

Ami smiled. “I like the sound of that. Assassin Princess.”

“I know you do,” said the
stranger-girl
. She then turned to Hero, grabbing his hand and leading him onto the grass. “We need to get going now though. Both Adams are out there.”

Hero looked toward the wood, an uneasy blue glimmer in the distance, the searching light of the Sentries filtering between the trunks; a flash of blonde hair, white face peeking. He nodded and drew his sword. “Let’s go.”

The three of them began their walk to the woods, the two Ami’s joining hands, purple and green light passing between them, their eyes flashing.

Dangerous
.

Talos stood behind
the trees and watched through the branches where the mist was thinnest. If it hadn’t been for the dark and deadly blue light, the perpetual night, and the sense of dread that hung in the air like a stink, Talos could’ve believed that he was back in Solancra under a sullen twilight; but he wasn’t, and these woods were filled with the dead.

He’d charged the Guard Raven with retrieving Lord Graeme’s body from the clearing, and though cocooned in a slick coating of dark magic, he was still alive. Raven had been quick to slit the coating and released him where he’d fallen to the ground, gasping for air and shuddering in a cold sweat. He sat now against a tree.

Out there in the clearing a stand-off had taken place, something that should’ve been foreseen, if only they’d had the hindsight of memory. A darker being had joined Adam, a shadow of his former self, twice as mad and further twisted by the lonely, timeless forest where those who
do not go
existed. They’d joined together and their power had increased, with only an old woman and his
love
to challenge them. His
love
. His Florina, morphed into a human female, chosen by the Sentries to leave through the portals. It had been a tragic moment, only just remembered, yet forever scarred upon his heart.

They’d entered the lands together where they’d found no daylight, and the very feel of the woods had offended them; an unnatural vibe came from the trees where power lurked, disfigured and changed, something dark and mindless. They’d sensed things between the blue and misted trunks, and the further they ventured, the closer the things were. Then the Sentries had found them and told their tale in an instant exchange of power and images. They were spared the fate of mere human wanderers and treated as Sentry-born kin—well, almost—for one must still go, though go without madness, go only because one
must
. The other was to be sent
on
, on through the portals, on to another layer to search for the other
beings
out there, the other Sentries lost between the layers. There was no refusal. If Talos was sent on, Florina would be at the mercy of Adam, and that was something Talos could not abide. Tears and discussions were short as the Sentries surrounded them, and with the decision made, Florina had been sent whilst Talos returned.

Now they were back and his
love
was in danger.

The black flames leapt forward and swallowed Florina and the old woman, lifting them from the ground as if upon a wave. There they were smothered, tendrils of black smoke entering their mouths and nostrils, their powerful swords useless and flailing.

Talos stepped forward, ready to save his mate, his stump spluttering and flaring with white sparks.

“Talos, stay back,” Raven said, but he couldn’t. He made to leave the trees as the light of the Sentries began to strobe and search behind him, a chant whispered across his coat like a shiver.
One must go. One must go.
His eyes were drawn to them, the tall pillars shortening into six perfect spheres. He looked back to the clearing in time to see the two Adams bear down upon the women, their fingers stretching into sharp, pointed green blades of light, poisoned power poised above their struggling bodies. Broad smiles lit their crazed faces.

Talos allowed his power to surface and rise within him, and he left the shelter of the shadow and entered the clearing at a gallop. “Get away from her,” he shouted, his stump flaring white.

From the left and behind him, three figures entered the clearing, illuminated in a flux of colour.

*

Their hands were locked together tight as they travelled through the trees and broke the edge of the clearing. There, Ami’s hand was dropped as
Dangerous
raised the shining curved steel of her sword; it beaded a purple and green flame, leaving Ami awestruck at the sight. She would always be
Dangerous
to her, her Shadow Princess, oozing confidence and strength and danger. Looking down she felt Adam’s power birth inside her once more and spread out within her. It tingled at her fingertips, giving her fingernails a sheen, and fell to the floor in jaded sparks, purple light also dripping from her like rain. In fact, her whole body had lit like a neon sign and she’d become luminous with the two colours.
Dangerous
was the same to her left and Hero, keeping pace, was drenched in purple to her right. She looked on, feeling powerful once more as they approached six clustered and hollowed trees. Black fire floated there like a swamp, swirling all around them, and at the centre of the dark power were the two Adams, leering over those who’d been captured, tangled in black smoke.

Dangerous
raised her blade and released power that scattered the clearing, but the Adams seemed unaffected, their focus never wavering, their stretched, green finger-blades clawing at Florence. Ami threw her power to the same end. The Adams laughed.

“Get away from her,” a voice shouted, and through the mist came Talos, four hooves galloping toward them, kicking through the fire, his stumped horn aglow. The light from it chased the smoke that sought to bind him, the tendrils slipping from his neck like a loose noose as he fought his way to Florence—and through the trees came the chants and the spheres of white light.
One must go. One must go.

Ami entered the black swamp with
Dangerous
and Hero, power thrown from their bodies in flares as they fought the vines of smoke. She felt them tighten around her legs and try to pull her under, the flames licking up to her neck. Adam’s fiery eyes found her and the strength within her began to ebb away.
No,
she thought, struggling to turn from those black eyes,
No I won’t. I won’t submit to you.
She forced her eyes to Grace, who writhed and turned above the flames like a spit-roast, her old skin crawling with a cancerous black shadow that went beneath her flesh, through her veins. Her eyes bulged as she stretched out her hand. Within her loose grasp was the sword, the sceptre, the horn. Grace’s lips moved, but Ami didn’t need to hear the silent words to know what she said, and as the Adams made to tear their blades into the
next-girl
, Ami snatched the sword from Grace’s grip.

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.”