Shattered Assassin (23 page)

He knew I wasn’t going home. And he had protected me.
Kazia smiled, so grateful for the kind man that he was. “Well.” She straightened, which was awkward on the back of a horse with no saddle, and dug deep for some reserve of strength she knew must be there somewhere.
Assassin? There’s no one to kill but I need you.
“I suppose we better go prove to them all that I’m still alive.”

“Are you sure you’re up to it, Princess?” Luke asked quietly, waiting until she met his gaze.

She nodded. “Yes, Captain. Er — Luke. Sorry, Benjamin.”

Benjamin smiled. “I still call him Captain, too, Princess.”

“Okay, then. Let’s get moving. If we hurry we should be there by sundown.”

Their horses raced across the valley, evenly matched in strengths and endurance so that they flew fluidly together across the open, grassy floor. “Hee-ya!” Kazia yelled, kicking Harousse, who responded, leaping forward and taking the lead. Her long black mane and tail streamed out behind her, mixing with Kazia’s messy blond braid. The wolf pup stayed snuggled in the makeshift pack at her chest, although she did yip in fear every so often. Kazia promised to make it up to her once they were home and had averted war.

The sun was setting and the horses were lathered and breathing hard. To keep pushing them after hours of running so hard could mean stumbles and breaks. “We’ve got to let them rest!” Kazia yelled to be heard over the pounding hooves. Luke caught her eye and nodded, and as he pulled up so did Benjamin and Heath, but they couldn’t afford to walk for long. Luke waited until the four horses’ breathing weren’t quite so labored and drove his heels into the big black horse’s flanks once again. He jumped, racing ahead, and Harousse was quick to follow. From the roaring behind her, Kazia knew Benjamin and Heath also followed, although she didn’t dare turn to see. They pushed the poor, exhausted horses until they reached the forest surrounding Kazia’s castle.

“We can’t run them here!” Kazia yelled. It was too dangerous, especially in the dark — there were too many obstacles, too many things that could break a leg and end the horse’s life. If they’d had Nakomi to lead them, then maybe. But they did not have Nakomi, and Kazia wasn’t willing to end any more lives, not when these horses had given everything they had and then more.

“Princess, if we don’t get to the castle before morning, we might be too late,” Benjamin said, his gray eyes grim in the deep shadows of the forest.

Kazia frowned, her mind racing. “Then I’ll run.”

“What?!” Benjamin and Heath yelled in unison.

“Not a chance.” Luke growled, glaring hard as the horses picked their way through the forest. “What trips a horse can trip you too.”

“But it won’t. Don’t forget what I am, Luke.” She was already sliding off Harousse, unfastening her pack with the tiny wolf pup inside. She handed it up to Luke. “Bring her home for me.”

Luke took the pack but handed it straight on to Benjamin. “I’m coming with you.”

Kazia wanted to scream. There was no time for heroics. Instead she laid a hand on his thigh, peering up at him through the dark. “Luke, I know this forest. I can’t tell you how many times my father sent me through it to take care of his enemies. There are shortcuts, but not any big enough to allow a horse through.” As he opened his mouth to object, she shook her head, cutting him off. “Not big enough for even you.”
Use your weakness as your strength
, her father’s voice echoed through her head, her heart. She was small, and she used it to her advantage.

Without another word, she spun and escaped through the trees. She heard them call — and they all sounded furious, but she couldn’t stop. There was no time. Her heart pounded in her chest as she ran, immensely grateful when the assassin finally took over, edging out the pain, sending energy bursting through her tired muscles, and she felt like her feet had wings as she flew over the ground. She could almost picture Nakomi running with her, as she had so many times before, bounding in front to smell for threats, bounding behind to make sure they weren’t followed, sprinting to catch Kazia when she got distracted, the long black tail just tipped toward the sky. Kazia’s heart hurt but also healed at the memory, and inside, she smiled.

Ahead, the skies were graying. Not long and they would be pink, and the sun would rise. She had to beat it. She leaped over a fallen log, the marker that hid the entrance to the catacombs beneath the castle. They were mostly caved in, so only a child could fit through them.

Or Kazia.

She hated the catacombs. Being in small, incredibly dark spaces for what seemed like an endless amount of time was something she’d had nightmares about her entire life, but now she didn’t hesitate, diving into the tunnel, landing hard on her knees, and crawling. She wound her way through the darkness, wincing when she’d hit a rock on her bare hands, gasping when something large with many legs would crawl down her back or get tangled in her hair. But she didn’t stop. She felt her hands start to bleed, and then the knees of her tunic started to wear and eventually her knees bled too, but she didn’t stop. Above the surface, she knew the skies were lightening, even if it was dark as the deepest hour of midnight here. So dark that when the tunnels curved, she couldn’t see them and usually ran either a hand or her face into the wall. One particular crash left her forehead bleeding, and she was beginning to think even if she did make it in time to stop a war, no one would recognize her as the princess she was supposed to be.

When she could take no more, and was certain she was going to die down here, alone and lost and completely insane, she saw the light ahead. It was a pink light, which meant that the sun was coming up. Despite her stiff, aching knees and back and her bloody palms, she crawled faster, falling a few times when her tired arms didn’t want to cooperate as fast as her brain was asking them too. She was beyond dirty and bloody and dusty when she reached the cellar grate. She stood, pushing against it with her back.

It didn’t move.

“No no no no no!” She screamed, furious at everything. It had been too long since she’d used the catacombs. The grate must have rusted shut. She pushed harder, felt it tearing at her tunic and then the skin underneath, so that soon her shoulder would look as horrible as her knees and hands. When she felt the bones start to shatter under the pressure, she quit, collapsing to the dirt floor. She wanted to sob, but she was too tired. There was no time to cry. Forcing herself to her feet, she rammed her non-injured shoulder against it, feeling the sharp edges of the grate smash into the back of her head. Once, twice, and she could feel the blood running down her scalp as waves of dizziness hit her over and over.

And then she heard it move, just a bit, when she hit it the third time. Euphoria and hope surged through her and she slammed into it with everything she had left, feeling her shoulder break as she did so. She screamed in pain, a horrible cry that sounded, to her ears, like Nakomi’s howl. But the grate was loose. She shoved it away with her less-injured arm, squealing as it moved the broken shoulder blade. Getting out would be a problem, though, and she was just realizing she would have to crawl out using her broken arm when the cellar door swung open and Derock exploded into the room.

“Your highness? Did I hear—?”

“Derock! Help me! We must stop the war.” He was kneeling beside the hole in seconds, lifting her out. She screamed again when he pulled on her left arm, where the broken shoulder blade throbbed so much she thought she would pass out. But not yet.

“They’re in the throne room,” Derock said after apologizing profusely. “Duels have already been challenged. They’re sending their men against each other any minute.”

Kazia swallowed the bile rising in her throat.
Not yet, not yet
. “You might have to help me,” she said as she struggled to stand. He nodded, scooping her up, careful of her injuries, although he couldn’t avoid them all, and he ran. With every jostling step Kazia thought she might lose consciousness, but she fought. Brodi’s voice echoed in her head, encouraging her, fighting for her.
Hold tight, little princess. I’m with you. Just a few minutes more.

Several steps outside the throne room, Kazia could hear the yelling. Her eyes, which she hadn’t realized had fallen shut, snapped open. Derock swung her to her feet, holding tight until she could stand steadily. Her other guards, the one’s whose names she had never learned, all stood ready at the doors, as if they had never doubted she would be there in time. She limped forward, fighting tears as she neared the door.
Hold your head high, little sister. You are their queen. I’m with you. We’re all with you.
Kazia sucked in a breath and raised her head as Derock swung the door open.

“Her Royal Highness, Princess Kazia!” he yelled into the room. It wasn’t his job to announce her presence, but the man who usually did it was trying unsuccessfully to hold off the fighting. Her throne room was a disaster. The thrones were upturned and charred from the fire, the beautiful tapestries torn and burned, and the exotic plants her mother had loved so much were trampled in the dirt of their broken pots.

Kazia was overcome with rage, which was a good thing. It ebbed away at the pain. “What is the meaning of this?” she yelled as she stalked into the room. Thanks to her shoulder, her knees and legs barely bothered her. The room fell silent as, in unison, twenty pairs of eyes all turned to gape at her. She didn’t have time to be self-conscious about her appearance, though, and strode into the room, refusing to limp.

The only one who didn’t stare at her in horror and revulsion was King William, whose eyes sparkled even from across the room. “I knew you’d show up sometime,” he said.

“Thank you, King William, for your kindness and for protecting my kingdom in my absence.”

He inclined his head with a smile and she wondered if he was grateful for the distraction. He seemed almost amused by the chaos he’d been trying to control. Kazia turned slowly toward the rest of the room as her guards filed in behind her. “As for the rest of you, how could you do this? Look at my throne room! This is my kingdom — and you thought you could come in and take control? How dare you!” she yelled, which a princess must never do, but she was more than a princess. She was her father’s greatest assassin, and she was
strong enough
.

Instantly, the man nearest her knelt. “I’m sorry, your highness. With the attacks and then the rumors…”

“You couldn’t wait until my body was cold in the ground?”

“No, your highness, it isn’t that. If I hadn’t acted quickly, someone else might have…” He trailed off at her cold, hard glare.

Kazia raised her chin, despite the fact that it felt like her spine might snap soon. “Since you are so fond of rumors, I assume you know the one about my father’s assassin?” Several of the men in the room gasped. Over their heads, she saw Crystali, standing just outside the hall, beaming. Kazia resisted the urge to smile at her, grateful for her never-failing support. Instead she turned her attention back to the men. “That assassin, if he or she exists, is now in my employ. You should consider that while sleeping in your bed this night.” She had outraged them, she could see, and it made her happy. “Now I suggest you gather your troops and get out of my kingdom before I declare war on all of you and take your properties and kingdoms for myself.”

The furious scowls on every single face deepened, but they all bowed and stalked out.

King William stayed where he was, and she joined him, her guards at her side. “I’ve made enemies here today.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Did I say too much?” she asked.

“Not at all.” He patted her shoulder, the not-so-injured one, and she tried not to squeal in pain, knowing he couldn’t see her injuries. “I’ll stay here for a few days and let my troops rest before heading home. If it’s all right with you, of course.”

She beamed at him. His troops weren’t tired, they both knew that. He was staying to protect her, and she loved him for it. “I would be honored to have your company, your Majesty.”

“Kazia!” Behind her, Luke burst into the room, Benjamin and Heath on his heels. He swore as he skidded to a halt next to her, taking in her injuries in one sweep. “Call the physician. Crystali, get her medicine. Kazia, you’re bleeding everywhere. Did you even notice?”

She nearly wept at the panicked concern in his eyes. “Yes, I kind of noticed.”

As servants and staff raced around the castle, fulfilling his orders, Luke helped her to her chambers. Crystali pushed the warm tea into her hands as her head swam. She dreaded when the adrenaline wore off and she would be able to feel all the pain, but for now, the assassin stayed with her, fighting it off.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

_“
K
AZIA
.”
LUKE’S BREATH EXITED
in a rush as her eyes fluttered open. She wasn’t sure when she’d passed out or when the assassin had left her. She remembered none of it.

“Ugh,” she groaned. Crystali was there with her medicine, and she drank it, so grateful for whatever witch doctor her father had found that had concocted the stuff.

“Don’t speak, just rest.” Luke sounded almost as exhausted as she felt. She turned her head, slowly, very slowly, to see him sitting in the armchair pulled close to the bed, his big frame awkwardly spread out.

“How long—?” she croaked.

“It’s been a few days,” Crystali murmured. “Captain hasn’t left your side for one minute.”

“Luke. I’m not the captain anymore,” Luke said, distracted as he leaned forward to brush his knuckles across Kazia’s cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m alive,” Kazia said, closing her eyes against his soft touch.

“Sleep, Kazia. I need you rested. I have a very important question to ask you but not until you’re better.”

Kazia’s heart gave a weak flutter.

“Oh, and this little thing needs a name.” Luke leaned over and scooped up the little wolf pup, who seemed to have doubled in size.

How long have I been out?
“I thought of one. While I was in the catacombs.” Her voice sounded like an eighty year old woman. She wasn’t going to tell him she thought of one while having an imaginary conversation with her dead wolf. “Nahina.”