The Lady of Toryn Anthology (Lady of Toryn trilogy) (53 page)

Tag!

Ashlyn shifted ever so slightly,
and the katana at her neck followed her, glinting in the faint light. She hadn’t
counted on Tag being here, too.

Kou emerged from behind the door,
his expression completely void. “You have caused enough trouble for me, Ashlyn
Li,” he said in a low voice.

Their eyes met, and Ashlyn’s
heartbeat thudded in her ears as she stared at the man who had killed her
father.

He spoke again. “It’s time to
die.”

Reluctantly, Ashlyn dropped the
shuriken, and as Kou picked it up and flung it over the railing of the balcony,
she felt the weight of the world on her shoulders once more.

She had failed.

The blade of the katana was only
discernible through the light pressure it was exerting on her skin. Ashlyn was
so cold that she could barely feel the bite of the steel. In a wave of sudden
nostalgia, she recalled the battle with the wolves outside Landi. There weren’t
many hostile creatures in the canyons of Landi, and Ashlyn had been
pathetically ill-equipped for battle. She’d been carrying a hira shuriken with
no stanes, but had still fought back, ready to kill the wolves or die trying.

In an instant, that feeling came
rushing back to her- the same survival instinct Ashlyn had honed over the last three
years, the do-or-die mentality that was essential to a true ninja.

A true ninja like her dad.

Ashlyn dropped to the floor and
spun onto her back, her feet scissoring out and striking Tag in the kneecaps.
He yelped in pain, swung the katana, but Ashlyn was already moving, flipping up
as the sword sliced the air beneath her. She touched the floor and spun in a
roundhouse kick that smashed Tag against the wall with its force. Ashlyn
flipped backwards, end over end to the edge of the balcony, avoiding Kou’s rush
as much as giving herself room to move. On the last flip she landed on her feet
and grabbed the balcony railing, letting her momentum carry her legs around in
a half-circle as she held on for dear life. It was a breathless split second as
she glanced back, seeing the vast, beautiful emptiness of the city beneath her,
before she completed the arc and drove her feet into Kou’s chest. He flew
backwards, and Ashlyn dropped to the floor, one hand splayed on the slick
marble.

Tag came at her as she found her
footing, and Ashlyn rose and sidestepped in one motion, striking out with the
heel of her hand. He blocked the hit, swung his right fist around, but Ashlyn
sidestepped again. They parried jabs and punches, and Ashlyn, as much out of
desperation as anything, called down a
fire
spell to singe him just as Kou jumped back into the fray with his own
sword. Tag staggered backwards, screaming as he tried to pound out the flames
that had suddenly erupted on his shoulder.

Ashlyn ducked a slice from Kou’s
sword, and spun, bringing her fist around to backhand him. He took the hit but
managed to land a kick to her thigh, knocking her leg out from underneath her.
She caught herself on the ground with one hand and quickly rolled out of the
way as he brought the sword down again. Up and running, she dashed for the door
and snatched up the katana Tag had been holding, falling to her knees and
bending backwards as she blocked yet another strike from Kou’s sword. She spun
on her knees, but he had guessed her move and easily jumped over her swinging
blade.

She sprang to her feet and
advanced furiously, driving him back. Somewhere in her mind, it registered that
Tag was still screaming, but she didn’t want to give up the advantage she had
over Kou even to look and see where the other man was. She dodged a stab from
Kou and swung the katana in a downward arc. Kou leaped back, but her aim was
true, superficially slicing him from chest to abdomen. He gasped and stumbled
backwards. Ashlyn didn’t stop to offer mercy, leaping forward to finish him
off.

She raised her arm, drawing back
to slash at Kou’s exposed neck, but then a snarling bundle of fur smashed into
her from the side, strong jaws latching onto her left arm and knocking her into
the railing. Ashlyn screamed as the momentum flipped them both over the marble
pillars, sending her careening towards the water below. The tearing pressure let
up on her arm as the wolf released its hold on her, the howling animal
spiraling away from her as they fell, and for one eternal instant Ashlyn was
staring up at the sliver of the moon, a silent moment of perfection in
darkness.

It was in that moment that she
realized this had been Kou’s vision, the vision her father had described to her
in North Camp. The vision where she was killed by a wolf.

She landed hard, on her back, and
even with the water breaking her fall, she still hit the ground beneath with a
bone-jarring thud. The breath was forced from her lungs in one huge
whoosh
of bubbles. Ashlyn felt the cold
seeping into her bones, and forced herself to keep her eyes open, a voice
screaming in her head to get moving, to get out of the cold before she froze to
death.
 
She looked up, saw the moon
above, and briefly noted that she was bleeding, thick tendrils of bloody water
snaking through the light above her.

It was eerily reminiscent of that
day she had lain in her bathwater, staring at the shifting shades of crimson
and remembering the painting in the Eastern City mansion.

Somehow she willed her leaden
limbs to move, and drew her feet up underneath her, pushing off with her hands
and standing up in the water. As her head broke the surface, she gasped in a
breath that seared through her lungs like fire- her entire being so incredibly
cold that it felt like the air itself was burning her up. Ashlyn stumbled
towards the nearest staircase, sloshing clumsily through the water, the fog of
her breath freezing against her cheeks. Slick with blood and water, her armlet
slid down her elbow and dropped into the water, but she was far too cold and
numb to try to retrieve it. She reached the bottom step and drew herself up a
few steps, out of the water, but heard a splash behind her, and glanced back.

The wolf behind her leaped at
that very moment, and Ashlyn sprang into action, only managing to scramble up
another handful of stairs before the beast was on her back. Crying out as its
claws dug into her skin, Ashlyn rolled on the steps, using her body weight to
crush him against the marble stairs. It was enough to momentarily stun him, but
no sooner had Ashlyn rolled off him than he was after her again. She found
herself dodging teeth and claws, lifting her injured right arm to fend him off
and screaming in pain as the full realization of how badly she was wounded
began to sink in. The wolf managed to snag the sleeve of her shirt in its mouth
and yanked, ripping the fabric. Ashlyn took the opportunity to punch the animal
square in the eye, and it fell backwards against the steps, yelping as it
rolled down the stairs towards the water.

A
shift
stane glittered at her from the silver armlet on the wolf’s
leg, and Ashlyn realized with a sinking feeling that this was Tag, that he had
assumed the third and most deadly shape offered by the
shift
magic. A wolf.

She turned and reached out with
her one good hand, fingers curved into claws, shaking as she dragged herself up
another stair, then two, finally mustering the strength to push herself up onto
her feet and stagger up the steps. Every movement seemed to be in slow motion. Blood
dripped from her arm, and she pulled it up close to her body, trying to ignore
the shadows crowding the corners of her vision. It was too dark to get a good
look at the wound, but she knew it was bad, knew that she was in danger of
bleeding out.

The wolf met her at the top of
the stairs, the faint moonlight glittering off its bared teeth. He’d gone
around somehow, gotten ahead of her.

Ashlyn tried to straighten up,
preparing herself to fight, but her knees buckled, and she fell, her legs
slipping out beneath her as she flopped gracelessly onto her back.
Get up!
She propped herself up with her
uninjured arm, and managed to brace herself up against the column at the head
of the stairs. Her legs remained twisted uncomfortably in front of her,
appearing almost gruesome with their odd, crooked angles, but she was so numb
that she couldn’t summon the strength to straighten them.

Her head lolled to the side
drowsily, and she blinked for a moment before recognizing the outline of her bo
shuriken, less than a foot away, hidden in the shadows of the spire beside her.
There was a
heal
stane in its slots.
If she could just get close enough to grab it, use it…but her hand wouldn’t
move. She was cold, so cold.

“Do you get it now, Ashlyn?”
Kou’s voice, low and dripping with disdain as he stepped into view. He was too
far away for her to see his eyes, but close enough that she could throw the
shuriken at him, if she could get her hands on it.

“Do you understand?” he said,
turning towards her and pausing. He was hunched forward, in obvious pain from
her attack with the katana earlier, but not mortally wounded. “This was meant
to happen. You were meant to die here. I am meant to assume leadership of Toryn
and overthrow the Free Lands Democracy. It was the destiny I saw in my vision.”

She tried to speak, but even her
vocal cords refused to budge in the icy cold. Ashlyn swallowed, willing her
body to warm itself, and glanced at the shuriken again. It was a good stabbing
weapon, but she wasn’t sure how accurate a throw would be, as cold as she was,
and given the fact that she’d have to throw with her weaker right arm. But if
she threw it, even if it was a death blow, would she be able to get to it so
she could use the
heal
stane?

Tag turned away then, licking a weeping
wound on his shoulder, and Ashlyn drowsily wondered if maybe this was her
chance.

“I had hoped that you would be
more open-minded than your father,” Kou continued.

She was reminded of Lord Angelo,
how he’d delivered a pointlessly arrogant speech about his power and
immortality right before Skye had kicked his ass.

Skye…

This
is your chance to be a leader, Ash. It’s your turn to be a hero and do the
right thing. Don’t let it pass you by. Don’t live your life with regret.

Ashlyn gritted her teeth,
glancing up at Kou, but he was oblivious, completely absorbed in the sound of his
own voice. The Tag-wolf was still occupied with tending to his various wounds.
Ashlyn focused hard, willing her hand to move. Her fingers curled slightly.

“He didn’t understand that Toryn
could be the mightiest country in Kresmir- that Toryn
needs
to be the mightiest country in Kresmir. He didn’t understand
the power of
shift.
For a while, I
had held out hope that you might be different,” Kou said, glancing back at her.
Ashlyn stilled momentarily, but soon he looked away again, and she miraculously
found the strength to move her hand towards the shuriken.

Her fingers closed around it, a
solid bar of steel in her hand, the warmth of the slotted stanes comforting
against her palm.

“I soon realized, however, that
you were just like your father. Weak,” Kou continued. “You played right into
our hands until that idiot peasant recognized you outside the city gates. You
couldn’t disappear after that. And somehow you managed to avoid capture during
the attack, as well.” He shook his head. “You always have to make things
difficult, but you’re still weak, Ashlyn. The Li bloodline is weak. The Li
elders have always been afraid to allow the people of Toryn to reach their full
power. And you are no different.” Hunched over, he turned to face her, his face
twisting in a sneer. “That means you are of no use to me.”

Tag rose, walking stiff-legged
towards her, wet fur dripping, his growl menacing. Ashlyn swallowed hard, and
clenched her fingers around the shuriken. The wolf stopped just inches in front
of her, hackles rising as he readied himself to leap.

“Nothing to say?” Kou asked. He
shifted uncomfortably, hand clasped to his midsection, blood seeping through
his fingers. The blade of the katana in his other hand was dragging against the
marble, its master too weak even to hold it up.

Ashlyn swallowed again, her eyes
meeting the wolf’s, their gazes locked. Her timing had to be perfect.

Tag crouched, gathering his legs
beneath him.

In the moment that the wolf
jumped towards her, Ashlyn brought up the shuriken, and caught him in mid-leap,
driving the pointed bar deep into the neck of the beast, warmth sluicing across
her fingers as the steel found its mark and the wolf abruptly collapsed in a
heap on top of her.

Summoning what little strength
she had left, Ashlyn yanked the shuriken out of the wolf’s neck and flung it,
flat-handed, droplets of blood spinning off her fingers with the motion.

Kou brought up his katana, but he
was much too slow, and with a wet
thunk
the shuriken embedded itself in his shoulder.

It wasn’t a killing blow. Ashlyn
nearly cried with disappointment. She’d been off by mere inches.

Kou didn’t speak or cry out,
didn’t look at her, simply stumbled backwards before retreating down the
stairs.

The bo shuriken clattering
against the marble after he pulled it from his shoulder was the only sound in
that horrible dark stillness, and Ashlyn pushed weakly at Tag’s body, wondering
if this was her punishment, if this was truly her fate. She was utterly
drained, too exhausted to move the wolf off her legs and get to the
heal
stane.