Shattered Assassin

Shattered Assassin

by Wendy Knight

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

SHATTERED ASSASSIN

Copyright © 2014 WENDY KNIGHT

ISBN: 978-0-9915872-6-1

ISBN 10: 0-9915872-6-X

Cover Art by P.S. Cover Design

Edited by Laura Heritage

To all my friends with an invisible illness.

May you find strength in your weakness.

CHAPTER ONE

_T
HE KINGDOM NEVER SLEPT
. Even now, in the deepest, darkest hour of the night, Princess Kazia could still hear life buzzing outside the castle walls.

She retreated farther into the garden. “Come, Nakomi,” she whispered, tapping her thigh.

The monstrous black wolf materialized from the shadows beside her, only the grey mask around her eyes visible in the darkness. Obediently, Nakomi followed at her side as they slipped deeper into the expansive gardens.

“I’ll bet you’re grateful I chose a nocturnal pet.” Kazia smiled sideways at Nakomi, who huffed in agreement.

The sounds of the city faded as they neared the castle, where, unlike in the village beyond, everyone slept.

Everyone but her.

She had always been more at home in the night than during the day. The sun hurt, causing severe blisters if she was out for an extended period of time, and it made her tired. When she was little, she tried to match her schedule to her family’s, but it was difficult. She gave it up, and was grateful to finally embrace her nocturnal self — especially now, with such an event looming.

“At this time in a month, I’ll be wed, Nakomi. I hope Prince Randolf is fond of wolves. It would be a shame to have to ask you to eat him when we’re trying to form an alliance between the kingdoms.” Kazia chuckled at her own humor, but a glance at Nakomi and she could swear the wolf was rolling her eyes.

Kazia had never actually met Prince Randolf. She had heard he was kind. Kind was good. Hopefully, kind would be enough. “Remember when I was young and thought I’d wed for love? A white knight…” Her voice trailed off as the image of the exact white knight she had dreamed of flashed through her mind.
Luke.

Nakomi, reading her thoughts, growled and Kazia nodded. “Of course it was silly. No one weds for love. They wed to form powerful alliances and secure their place in the world. Even when they are only sixteen years old.” She raised her chin and pushed blond curls over her shoulder. “I’d like to see anyone attempt war on our countries when we’ve combined our forces.” Yes, it was the smart thing to do, the right thing to do. Kazia always did the smart, right thing.

Even keeping a half-dead runt wolf pup had been the smart, right thing to do, although so many had told her it wasn’t. She had known, and she always trusted her instincts over the opinion of everyone else. It was the smart, right thing to do.

She paused, fingering the blossoms that sparkled faintly in the dim moonlight. It was, like everything in this garden, very beautiful. Unless you ate it, then it made you very sick. She had found that out when she was three and thought everything pretty should be eaten. Her mother had ordered every plant like it removed, but as soon as the flowers were gone her father had ordered more planted. After that, her older brother, Broderick, had stayed by Kazia’s side constantly while she played in the gardens.

Always protecting her.

He and Luke. Luke, even at seven years old, had been her white knight. She tipped her head, searching for stars that were hidden in the clouds. “I have to stop thinking about him, Nakomi. It only hurts me more.”

Nakomi sighed, if wolves could sigh.

“Oh! I know! Bite me. Every time I think about him. That will teach me.” Kazia looked hopefully at her friend.

Nakomi rolled her big eyes again.

“Just a small nip?” Kazia swung away and Nakomi slid again into the shadows, waiting to be called.
Probably wanting to sleep
, Kazia thought. Wolves weren’t completely nocturnal, but Kazia’s insomnia was forcing Nakomi to be.

The garden was the one place in the castle Kazia could breathe. It was safe and there was no one watching her. No one but Nakomi, of course. And probably guards, somewhere. But they kept their distance.

If she could draw, she would have come out during the day and painted the flowers, but personally she thought the garden was more beautiful at night. Many of the plants glowed in the darkness, and others sparkled in the moonlight. It was a sight most never saw. Since Kazia couldn’t draw, and she had no great skill at writing, she wandered among the flowers and dreamed, because dreaming was something she was fabulous at.

“That will be how I survive a smart marriage. I will dream,” she murmured as she ran her fingers across thorns that radiated like beacons.

Nakomi was suddenly at her side, growling low in her throat. “What is it?” Kazia frowned.

Nakomi never growled like an angry wolf. It was a terrifying sound, especially coming from a beast the size of a pony, and the hairs on the back of Kazia’s neck rose. Weaving her hands into Nakomi’s fur, she walked quickly back toward the castle, resisting the urge to pick up her skirts and run. Nakomi never ceased growling, even when they came to the castle walls and could see Broderick’s window above them.

“Odd,” Kazia murmured, pausing with her hand still clutching Nakomi tightly. The wolf stopped next to her, growls reverberating in her chest. Brodi had never lost a night’s sleep. Insomnia didn’t run in the family, but Kazia could see his shadowed form moving about his room. Thrashing, really, moving too fast… it took Kazia a moment to realize there were two forms in her brother’s room.

She squinted, wishing for Nakomi’s eyesight. When the big wolf barked, she nearly jumped out of her skin. Something was very wrong. She turned back to Brodi’s window just as he crashed against it, shattering the glass. Kazia screamed, and without realizing it she was running, Nakomi on her heels.

They burst through the wide front doors, flinging them open and leaving them a gaping entrance to the night air as Kazia sprinted to the stairs, lifting her nightgown and robe above her ankles as she took the stairs two at a time. Her heart was in her throat, making it difficult to breathe, and her blood roared through her ears.

“Help! Help!” she screeched as she hit the second landing and continued on to the third, cursing her short legs. She reached the top and spun toward Brodi’s room, screaming for help the entire way.
Where are the blasted guards?

Brodi’s door was open, just a crack, and Kazia didn’t pause as she shouldered into it, bursting into the room. Nakomi was ferocious behind her, growling and barking, foam bubbling at her jaws.

There was blood. Lots of blood. “Guards!” Kazia screamed again, slipping in a sticky puddle. She skidded to her brother’s side where he still lay by the shattered window. His eyes were wide and unseeing.

“Broderick? Brodi?” She sobbed. There was no life there. Nakomi stood with her back to Kazia, growling while she watched the door.

“Stay, Nakomi. Protect him. I must tell Father.” Kazia choked as she pushed herself to her feet, backing away from her brother’s lifeless body, her feet making sucking noises as she pulled them from the pooled blood. She could see that Nakomi was not pleased having Kazia leave her side, but she would do what she was told.

When Kazia lost them to the shadows, she turned and sprinted down the hallway, up another flight of stairs to her parents’ quarters. Below, she could finally hear the sound of pounding feet — the guards were coming. They were yelling, something about the princess, but Kazia didn’t stop. To stop she would have to acknowledge the horror — Brodi, her lifelong protector and best friend, was dead. Her parents would know what to do. Her father always knew what to do.

But when she rounded the corner and saw the door to their room was also slightly ajar, she
knew
. “No. No no no no no,” she wailed as she pushed into the room. There was not as much blood here, until she got to the bed. It looked as if neither the king or queen had put up a fight, and blood still seeped from wounds in both their chests. It had been a messy job, but both their eyes were still closed, as if in sleep.

“Mother? Father?” She went to shake her mother’s shoulder, but a sound in the dead silence of the room caught her attention. She froze, hands inches from her mother’s still body.

A scuffle. Someone was in the sitting room outside. Kazia’s heart stopped in horror. “Mother, Father, please wake up.” She sobbed as she pushed at both of them, but there was no response.

A dull thump, like someone knocking into furniture, just outside the door. Kazia stumbled backward, her eyes on the doorway as the handle turned. She whirled and dove for the closet, or what her mother used as a closet — it was actually a small sitting room — burying herself in her mother’s many fine dresses. Her bloody hands left smears across the soft fabric, and she was sorry. Her fingers stuck to the knob as she pulled the door shut behind her, making sucking noises as she wrenched her hand away. Her breath froze in her lungs as she heard the outer door swing open across the plush rug in the entryway.

Cowering against the far wall, not daring even to breathe, she waited to be discovered. She wanted to sob. She wanted to mourn, but she was too frightened to even move.
What if they’re still alive
? She had abandoned them.

She could hear footsteps, coming across the room. The intruder was not quiet, not even attempting stealth. This was not a professional assassin, by any means. The footsteps paused and the door to the armoire creaked. She shoved her shaking fist to her mouth to keep from screaming, biting hard on her knuckles.

A low growl, menacing, terrifying, shook the room.

“Nakomi, down. Get away from me.” The voice was familiar, even in its panic, but Kazia’s frightened mind couldn’t place it.
Nakomi, no. Run!
she thought frantically, but Nakomi barked and the closet walls shook violently as the big wolf pounced.

Kazia struggled to the door, trying to push it open but she was tangled in the clothes. By the time she fought herself free, the sounds from outside the armoire had stopped. She flung the door open, praying she wouldn’t see Nakomi as lifeless as her family.

The big wolf stood with her back to Kazia, breathing heavily, but
alive
. “Nakomi, come!” Kazia sobbed, pulling her into the armoire and tugging the door shut behind them. She wished for a lock and knew, somewhere in a part of her mind that was still rational, that there was no sense whatsoever hiding in a closet, but she buried her face against Nakomi’s sticky fur and stifled her sobs. “Are you hurt? Please tell me you’re not hurt.” She felt for tender spots as she whispered over and over, but her wolf, of course, didn’t respond. She had ceased growling and now sat silently, as tangled in the dresses as Kazia was.

More footsteps, lots of them as the room was invaded and light flooded under the closet door. “There’s smoke coming from the east wing!”

The armoire door flung open and light blinded Kazia. She buried her face in Nakomi’s fur until the light faded a bit, and then she looked up, shielding her eyes. “Luke,” she cried.

“Kazia, are you hurt? Where are you hurt?” He pulled her out and she tumbled into his arms. The room was full of guards.

“I was calling for help, but no one came and, Luke, Brodi is… they’re all—” She sobbed again and he pulled her against him, his hands stroking her hair.

“I know. I know.” He gently pushed her away so he could peer into her face. “Are you hurt?”