The Assassin Princess (The Legacy Novels Book 1)

BOOK: The Assassin Princess (The Legacy Novels Book 1)
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The Assassin Princess

a legacy novel

 

 

Blake Rivers

First published in 2013

by B.R.Rivers Publishing

 

This Kindle edition published in 2016

 

Copyright © Blake Rivers, 2016

Cover art Copyright © Emi Rose, 2016

 

ASIN B00CL4NE6U

 

The right of Blake Rivers to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

 

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed, or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the author, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased, or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law.

 

This is a work of fiction and any resemblance between the characters to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

 

www.blakerivers.com

 

for emi & becky

i love you both to the moon & back.

 

 

 

 

beware the mortrus lands, beware,

north to the flow, below, below,

danger in light, blue and glow,

many go in, one must go.

 

Part One
Ami’s Legacy

“i keep my promise for thousands of generations and forgive evil and sin; but i will not fail to punish children and grandchildren to the third and fourth generation for the sins of their parents.”

 

– sunrise good news bible, exodus 34:7

Chapter One

 

 

The man appeared
from the shadows and stepped onto the empty road, his parched face stark beneath a mop of black hair, eyes catching flicker of a nearby street light; he listened. Traffic droned a block away while laughter and footfall echoed and died, shades of colours spent.

Assured he was alone, he turned to the building on his left and lifted his palms. They sparked to burn a low green flame that blackened his skin, strips and flakes lifting in a light night breeze to swirl above him in a cloud of darkness.

“Find her,” he whispered, and the darkness obeyed.

 

*

 

Ami dipped her brush into the paint she’d mixed and left the flat altogether, joining the mountains, hills, forests and meadows. It was time alone spent in the spare room, amongst her paintings and sketches of brightly coloured faraway places, that she was able to truly feel herself. The brush flowed easily now as she bit down on her bottom lip, watching a vivid sunset come to life, the orange and yellow fire cradling the scant clouds, the blue and green of sky and forest meeting in a bleeding red. It was her final piece, her most accomplished work-in-progress to date. Her eyes caressed the meadow where the unicorns grazed, tracing their shining silk coats, touching her brush gently to the ripples of their manes and tails, painting reflection in their big mirrored eyes.

“Are you going to stay in there all night?” a voice called through the door, jolting Ami from her world. Even after six months of having a flatmate, she hadn’t gotten used to Julie’s shrill interruptions.

“I was just finishing up.” She moved her brushes into a jar, swirling them for a moment, all the colours billowing to a muddy brown. She dried them roughly with a cloth.

“I’ve left you some mac and cheese in the oven. Open this door, will you?”

Giving one more look to her work, Ami surveyed the forest, her unicorns, the mountains. The sunset was magical and set the whole canvas on fire. She sighed, nodded in approval, and lowered the sheet over it.

“Finally!” Julie stood in the doorway, keys in hand. “I’ve hardly seen you all week! Look, I know the place is a bit of a mess, but I’m just about to go out—” Ami looked around. Clothes lay crumpled on the living room floor, plates and cutlery spread across the kitchen counter, the sink piled high. “—and I was wondering if you could do me a favour and clean up a little bit? Jason’s coming round tonight.” She winked and Ami cringed. Jason was a creep, but Julie seemed to like him, for now at least.

“You expect me to clean up your mess?” Ami shut the door and stepped into the living room.

“Well, it would have been your mess too, if you hadn’t been in there for hours.” As Julie pouted and Ami’s face turned scarlet, she quickly changed tact. “But I promise I’ll make it up to you! I will! But right now, I have to go!” She skipped to the door, her keys jingling.

“Seriously? You just expect me to clean up after you?”

“Chill, Ami, I’d do the same for you. Bye!” Julie darted out the door before Ami could say another word. The clunk of the latch sealed the deal.

“Great,” she said to the empty flat, and worked her way across the floor avoiding the discarded tops, jeans, and other debris.

A dull thud stopped her dead, the sound of flapping fluttering her heart.

It came from the window, and through her reflection, out across the dark cityscape beyond, she saw a bird. It was a dancing shadow, circling in the night sky. She came closer and reached for the curtains to draw them as it rose high and dived at the glass. With a yelp and a yank the curtains closed, hiding the squawking mess of feathers from view.

“Urgh,” she said, stepping back and shuddering in disgust. It had happened before, mostly pigeons, but somehow in the dark it seemed all the more disturbing. Turning from the window, she shifted her attention back to the room, and then doubtfully to the kitchen. How could one girl make so much mess in two hours? Living with Julie had been a laugh to start with. They’d sat home in the evenings and watched cheesy films, eating cheesy foods. Then Jason had come on the scene and things changed, Julie spending all her time out with him while Ami worked on her passion, art. She was glad to be consumed by it, and at least her consumption didn’t leave sticky plates and clothes on the floor.

Ami’s attention flipped back to the window as she bent to pick up a mug. A tapping. She looked back to the curtains and listened.

Tap… Tap… Tap…

It was the bird the other side of the window, asking to come in.

Stupid
, she thought,
it’s not asking anything
. But there was the noise again. Three taps, steady, evenly spaced, patient.

Ami thought of vampires in horror films, begging for entry; if she pulled the curtain she would see a white face, lit and hateful, whispering, long fingernails tapping.

No
, she thought,
that’s just stupid
.

Ignoring the noise, she took the mug into the kitchen.

 

*

 

The bird exploded into a swarm of darkness and returned to its owner, swirling in front of him, spinning faster and faster. In the blur the man saw the building, windows dark and light. He saw the girl, and watched the curtains close.

The swarm stopped spinning and flew into the man’s hand where it turned a bright green and shimmered across his body; a smile creased his smooth face as he rose up in search of the girl.

 

*

 

Soon the floor was free of clutter, and Ami’s hands were soft from the soak of soap suds. She sat slumped on the sofa and closed her eyes. “An early night tonight,” she said to no one, but her thoughts were interrupted as the tapping returned.

Tap… Tap… Tap…

Three taps as before, more forceful than they had been. Maybe the bird was injured and was dying on the outside sill? She scrambled to the floor on her knees and crawled to the curtains. Using her fingertips only, she lifted the very bottom and looked up, an irrational fear growing inside that she couldn’t shake. Was the vampire waiting, smiling, glaring in at her?

Three more taps.

Being silly
, she thought.
Be brave and rip those curtains open! It’s just a bird
.

For no reason she could think of, the mountains in her painting came to mind—the dark mountains where any manner of creature could live, even a vampire.

This was too stupid.

Standing up, she grabbed the edges of the curtains and pulled them open.

The face was as white as she’d imagined, the grin more terrible than she’d feared. The eyes were glowing, not the red of horror movies, but a bright green. Nothing was real in that moment, only her fear and the vampire that glared in at her.

The window smashed, shards showering her as she screamed into a high wind that whipped through the flat. The vampire entered.

Her paralysis broke as the coffee table splintered beneath the vampire’s step, and Ami took flight to the spare room. Crashing in, she slammed the door behind her and locked it with shaking fingers. What the hell was going on? Visions of blood suckers, zombies, and ghouls flooded her mind as she cowered next to her canvas. The sheet had lifted when the door had opened and she was now looking at mountains, grey and mysterious.

A solid knocking a violation, the door shook with the intruder’s force. Her eyes turned to the forest, the meadow and the unicorns with their tails swaying in the breeze. There was a man next to a unicorn that she hadn’t painted, and in his hand he held a sword.

The knocks gave way to a terrifying creaking, a green light flooding the edges of the frame as it pulsed and warped before her eyes.

“Help! Please, help me!” she screamed, but there was no one to answer. Her heart raced. A vampire in her flat, a man she didn’t paint, a light so green and bright it hurt her eyes; she covered them with her hands and screamed again.

“Come with me,” said a voice at her ear, and she turned to a pair of deep brown eyes staring out at her from the painting. The painted man himself now filled the whole canvas, his hooded figure leaning out and over her. “Come now.”

Ami was pulled into his embrace as the door split open and flew into splinters, shredding the room. And then there was no longer a door, and she was no longer there.

 

*

 

His breathing was slow, his face a waxwork bust, smooth and calm, hiding the rage beneath. He stepped over the remains, his boots large and heavy, his eyes trained on the canvas that lay face-up on the floor.

It was empty.

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