Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
ALLIE
I ’d barely dashed onto the path, legs screaming under the strain, mind already rushing to the grimmest outcome, when a gruff voice resounded, halting me in my mad dash.
“Get down !”
To my bewilderment, I stared at the fearsome Blood Brotherhood warrior who’d tried to crack my protective ward, the only spell I’d managed to cast before my powers had failed me.
The ghost.
The one who’d crashed Evie’s wedding and froze some of our best warriors in their seats before the massacre began.
He’d let them go as the arrows had started to fall, but he’d dared use his powers on them in the first place.
He seemed so out of place in this lush maze, like a glacier come to numb us all.
He’d definitely frozen me, mid-crouch, mid-breath, and mid-shot.
I had my arrow aimed straight at his skull.
No magic in this world could save him if I decided to launch it.
But I didn’t pull the string.
I watched in amazement as he used his large body to shield three frightened children behind him–two Serpents I didn’t recognize and little Eric, whose big blue eyes were reddened with tears. Their shirts were stained with dirt. No blood, thank the gods. They were all frightened, but unharmed.
He used one of the punch tables from the garden as a shield, warding off the arrows. So many were stuck to it, it looked like a damn porcupine.
How in gods’ names did he have the time to get his hands on one? It seemed both of us had improvised to survive. The poison was slowly eating away at the wood, rotting the table.
Each time a new wave of arrows hit the wood, his blue eyes sparked fiercely and his massive arms trembled.
But he didn’t relent. On instinct, he pivoted, his body an immovable wall of muscle between the children and certain death.
The table began to groan under the weight of the arrows.
“This is as far as I can take you,” he said, voice much gentler than I would have expected from that sharp face and those tense lips. “Crawl up ahead and don’t stop until you reach the castle.”
He turned his head and gazed down at them, eyes softening. “I know it’s scary, but you have to be brave. Don’t get up until you cross those doors. And don’t go anywhere with nobody you don’t know. Promise?”
Three little heads nodded in unison.
“Good,” he said. “I knew I could trust you. Now go. Fast.”
We both watched as the younglings did as he told them, scurrying away and leaving the two of us alone in this narrow path.
He kept his back to me.
I kept my arrow aimed at the muscles on the back of his neck.
Only the arrows smacking against the wood and leaves broke the tension.
I stood there, as unsure as I’ve ever felt.
He was Blood Brotherhood.
He’d crashed the wedding.
He was dangerously powerful.
I should have killed him.
I could have killed him.
To protect is to endure.
He might have been Blood Brotherhood, but he’d acted Protectorate right now.
“Are you going to kill me, Huntress?” his voice slithered up my spine, snapping me out of my hesitation.
He finally turned, rooting me to the spot with the spark in his blue eyes. They shined like ancient stones not from this world, inviting and threatening all at one.
We stared at each other, neither moving.
Two true warriors, caught in the fiercest battle of all.
The battle of will.
But the answer was so plain, I could almost taste it in the thick air.
No, I wouldn’t kill him.
After he’d saved those children, I couldn’t.
But he didn’t need to know that.
“Move or die,” I grit out. “ Commander .”
A flash of surprise slashed through his unwavering gaze.
I had the best spy in my Clan.
I knew that this man, escaped from his frozen land to traipse all over our balmy island, was one of the most dangerous warriors in the Blood Brotherhood. He’d been the only ruler in history to sever ties with the Northern Clans and live to keep the secret of how he’d accomplished it.
Though his short hair was so blonde, it almost looked like snow, they called him the Shadow.
Why, I didn’t know–and, damn him, I wanted to.
Too many moments lapsed as we stared at each other.
I’d be foolish to turn my back on him.
So I watched.
I waited.
Finally, when the tension rose so high I thought it might fill this entire maze, the wood in his makeshift shield finally splintered.
I flinched, barely managing to school my features back into the unflinching mask of The Huntress.
But he saw–and his eyes narrowed with curiosity.
He didn’t move. His gaze trailed down my improvised bow, past the twisted vine and wood, with something akin to admiration.
I felt exposed, like he could see all my tricks and the true reason I relied on all of them.
As if he could see all the doubts hidden beneath the titles.
An ominous bell rang in the distance.
That sound was not Protectorate.
The Commander clenched his jaw, his angular face turning even sharper.
I pulled the bow string tighter, my entire body on edge.
His lips quirked in a cold smirk as he inclined his head in a mock farewell.
Then he was gone.
Here one moment, a blur the next.
I hadn’t even seen where he’d run off to.
Had he run or simply levitated out of existence?
Vanished, before I could blink.
Not a trace of the man, only the cold air where he’d stood.
“Like a fucking ghost,” I muttered.
Nobody could move that fast, not even the god themselves.
It was impossible.
I shook my head and rushed toward the middle of the maze, pinpricks all over my arms.
I didn’t know exactly what I had witnessed, but it only spelled danger.
The fearsome Blood Brotherhood Commander, a fearsome story around Malhaven as much as I was, knew our Sanctua Sirena maze well enough to tell those children how to get to the castle safely.
A massive breach was threatening our defenses.
Our vaults were bleeding.
Our island had been invaded.
We were being hunted.
This is not normal.
As soon as I checked the entire maze and found my own way to safety, I needed to uncover what the fuck was going on with my Clan and who wanted to destroy us.
Perhaps tearing it from the inside out.
I didn’t know if I was ready to face whatever danger had managed to kneel us today.
I had to be, though.
Two more maze paths were free of bodies.
The arrows were fading, either from the distance or the sheer number of them being exhausted.
I allowed myself a sigh of relief.
Perhaps the worst had passed.
The maze was tricky to navigate, few people could have made it all the way here, especially in a frightened daze.
But my First Daughter instincts wouldn’t let me rest until I checked every nook and cranny, even as my own fatigue beat at me. If one survivor was still hidden here, I’d find them.
That’s what it meant to be a First Daughter. To bleed and burn so others wouldn’t have to.
I smelled the earthy, slightly bitter scent of the ancient olive tree before I saw it. My mind was instantly flooded with sweet memories of my mother reading to me under it while my father enthralled us with details about all the small birds that flew above and visited us.
I finally peeked past the last hedge into the round center of the maze, where so many Protectorate ceremonies had taken place guided by nothing but candlelight.
The olive tree which had fed so many Vegheara generations stood as tall and proud as ever, no arrows stuck to its bark. It would survive us all.
The little fountain at its base trickled sweetly, like always, clearing the air dampened with so much misery. I took a deep inhale, finally feeling like I could breathe.
For a second, I allowed myself to believe we were safe.
But the small relief was short lived.
Shit.
Another body was slumped near the edge of the sacred circle–dressed in a blue suit, too.
The world slowed as I inhaled another breath, this time stuttered.
Nausea overtook my body before my tired mind caught up.
It took me too long to register the exact hue of blue, one that matched my dress.
The thinning hair, the same shade as my own dark locks.
The strong arms which had wrapped around me whenever I had a nightmare as a child.
The rest of the world faded as a roar resounded in my ears.
I’m not ready.
“Daddy?” I choked out the name I hadn’t used since I was six and became the Protectorate’s heir.
The next few moments passed in a desperate blur.
I forgot all about the arrows, the massacre, the chaos, the bodies I’d crawled over, and rushed to my father’s side.
I must have tossed the bow in my frenzy, because I had both hands free to circle them around him, hugging his body to mine like he’d done to me too many times to count.
He was slumped face down, a dagger with a strange stone embedded in his back.
Not an errant arrow.
This was an assassination, done when he’d had his back turned.
I was distantly aware a sickly green mist began invading the edges of our sacred circle.
Frantic, I turned him around.
The tip of the dagger stuck out of his chest.
He’d been impaled straight through the heart, his blood tainting the silver and blue of his clothes.
His eyes and lips were closed. He looked almost peaceful in death.
The leader of the Protectorate had been murdered .
My father was dead.
A sob tore at my throat as my frenzied hands pressed against his chest, as if I could bring him back.
I called to the dry well of power inside me, but got nothing in response. Not even a lone trickle of desperate magic.
Only desperate silence.
The mist stalked closer.
“Please,” I cried out to anyone and everyone. “Please!”
Tears rushed down my cheeks as I struggled to pull his body underneath the olive tree, as if the power of Dria Vegheara’s legacy could bring him back to me and protect us from the mist.
He was still so warm.
He still smelled like him. Like old parchment, warm evenings spent in the garden, and long hugs I hadn’t appreciated enough.
Out of my mind, I even splashed some of the spring water onto his face, as if it could magically awaken him. The olive leaves rattled, as if mourning the loss as well.
“Please,” I cried harder, the unflinching Huntress in me gone and wailing in the recesses of my mind. “Don’t leave me alone. Not like this.”
The mist followed.
I didn’t care.
My dad was dead.
“Don’t leave me,” I sobbed and arched myself into him, as if I could protect him from every danger in this world.
I was too late.
He was gone.
“Not like this. Please. I’m not ready. Please!”
I wasn’t ready to face a world without him.
I wasn’t ready to let him go.
I wasn’t ready to lead our Clan.
“Please,” I whispered in despair, clutching his body to me, as the mist finally enveloped us and everything went dark.
I wasn’t ready for any of this.