Null & Void (Patrons of the Divine #1)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

I kick over the wooden chair with a growl, not caring if I look like a child having a tantrum. This isn’t like being told I can’t have any more cake or candy: I’m being sold as a slave to a foreign country.

“There is nothing I can do. The council has already voted.” Jaena’s icy calm voice rises from behind her enormous wooden desk, so at odds with the furious heat radiating from me.

“Why was it even an option? I’m a Null!” I protest.

A frozen finger skips down my spine. Only one king in the Divine world has a proclivity for Nulls. “I will not be a doxy, Jaena.” I pitch my voice dangerously low. “I will not be King Oferdu’s sex slave.”

“Oh Mika, for Divine’s sake! Nemoris asked for the Silent Assassin,” Jaena replies, sounding exasperated and finally revealing more than her calculated demeanor.

I grip the righted chair with white knuckles as I speak through gritted teeth. “The Silent Assassin retired Jaena.” Jaena’s eyes narrow dangerously. “Why me ? Why an assassin at all?”

“You know your reputation precedes you, Mika. They want a sneak who can fight. The Princess Ofnemoris has been kidnapped.” Shrugging, she adds with an edge of menace, “And it is not like I can put you on assignment anymore, can I?”

My rage takes over, and I slam the chair into the nearest wall. Jaena must have a sound barrier around us because her personal guards don’t come running in. This is ridiculous. I don’t rescue , I’m a killer. A fucking retired killer!

“I’m not going, Jae—” I don’t have time to finish before my air is choked off and I’m unable to move. It seems Jaena has decided to create a Mika-shaped barrier that’s just a little too tight.

“That is President Jaena, and yes, you will be going. You would do well to remember who saved your life more than a decade past, Mika. You have not been executed because of the protection I have afforded you.” She stands slowly to her feet and looks down her nose at me, violet eyes glowing in barely contained fury. “They will be back to collect you in five days. You are dismissed.”

The barrier drops, and I collapse onto the ground, quietly gasping for breath.

Jaena sits back down as she smooths non-existent escaped hairs from her tight gray-blonde bun, looking younger than her fifty-six revolutions but every bit as sharp. “Guards,” she calls, with practiced disinterest.

Two of Jaena’s guards file in and stand on either side of the door, their violet eyes not revealing what their Gift might be. Jaena gives me a pointed look.

I smirk. “You know two guards can’t stop me.”

A barrier briefly closes around my throat in warning as she looks down and starts reading as further dismissal. I stand and stalk through the door with my head held high and rage swirling in my stomach. At least her guards have the decency to look afraid of me .

I take the long way back to my rooms, needing the battering Osraed wind in my hair. I keep it short for this exact reason—long enough to tie my unruly, white-golden blonde hair back when I want to, but short enough to leave it free and be ruffled by the breeze.

I’ll miss the wind. Nemoris isn’t very windy, the entire country is little more than dense forest surrounded by beaches. At least it stays cold like Osraed. I’m not sure I would’ve survived if I’d been purchased by Sadori with their never-ending seasons of heat.

Unfortunately, the wind does nothing to calm me, and my rage continues to build. It’s my earliest memory, rage. The fluttering bird in my chest became a full-grown firecat clawing to get out. As a child, I was unable to control myself when it took over, so Jaena took me under her wing, assuming my violent outbursts were a sign of my Gift manifesting.

How disappointed she was when I was finally branded Null & Void with no Gift.

I arrive at the training grounds not realizing my destination, too focused on the crunch of my feet on the loose stone path in an attempt to calm my rage. Unsurprisingly, I see Leian inside, tidying up the mess of practice weapons. The Laguzborn man—the closest thing to a friend I have—is yet to notice my arrival.

Leian keeps his black hair cropped short and face cleanly shaven. He has square features and full lips, but unlike others from the sixteen main islands that make up Laguz, Leian’s skin is not the darkened bronze of his fellow Laguzborn.

Though I’m a revolution older, we grew up together, both suffering through similar cruel taunts from our peers. Me, because I looked dirty—I am no pristine Mievaborn—and Leian because his skin was not a dark enough brown. We both went unsold at our coming-of-age and got to know each other more during the last few revs.

Leian is a Junky, Gifted with calm and patience…kind of. What that really means is his heart rate never increases above resting. He never gets overwhelmed with confusion or irrational decision-making. He can remain steady in his emotions because his heart doesn’t race for any reason—not even physical exertion.

It occurs to me that Leian’s Gift is the complete opposite of my rage, and I audibly snort at the irony that he’s the one here tonight.

“Mika,” Leian says with a startled smile, his violet Patron eyes popping up to where I stand in the doorway.

“Evening Leian. Are you packing up to go home, or…” I let the words trail off as I grab a bo staff.

He grins. “I was packing up but would never miss an opportunity to spar with the best.”

Not bothering to warm up, I wait for Leian in the barn that’s used as a training area. “Probably the last time we’ll do this, Leian,” I mention as we settle into fighting stances.

Leian stops and stands up straight with a querying look, but I charge him with no warning.

He easily blocks my blow. “Oh, tiny little Mika, would you like me to practice on my knees so we are the same height?” he jibes and then tries to jab me in the stomach.

I dodge effortlessly, amused by his usual taunts. “Does it bother you that I am the size of a child and still beat your ass?”

He laughs heartily before chasing me, our bo staffs slamming together in multiple crosses. We swap blow for blow, charge for charge, taunt for taunt, both trying to catch the other off guard .

It’s not long before I’m panting and sweating, though Leian remains composed. I block one of his charges, but he immediately recovers and aims for my head. I narrowly miss being smashed in the ear as I duck, then use the opportunity to swing at his feet.

Leian realizes it too late, and I sweep him onto his backside with a thud. I offer him a hand up as he groans. “Small and deadly as always. Just once, I would like to win against you, Mika,” he laughs and readies himself for another round.

“I could let you win if you’d like?”

He charges me without another word.

I usually win but Leian is never anything but eager and enthusiastic to keep going. We continue until I’m shaking and breathless, and I’ve not lost a round.

“So, can I ask why this is the last time, or should I just be grateful there was one?”

As we stretch on the giant mat in the center of the barn, I give him an emotionless rundown of what Jaena told me, cursing myself for saying anything at all.

“I’m sorry Mika. I’ll miss your presence,” Leian says, sounding genuine.

He’s likely the only one who would, except for maybe the kids I nanny in the children’s compound. The thought of breaking the news to them tomorrow completes the souring of my mood.

I help Leian finish packing up the rest of the practice weapons before saying a final goodbye. Sweaty and sticky, I debate risking the bath house. It’s still too early, the private baths are usually all occupied at this time, and there’ll definitely be too many people in the communal ones. Far too many for my volatile state right now.

My housing complex is a mass of double rooms with a shared bath house nearby. The kitchens where we eat are shared with another three housing complexes, and there are four separate sittings for each meal. I’ve already missed mine, so there will be no dinner for me, but I always keep a stash of supplies in my room.

Once I reach my rooms, I start a pot of water for a quick soup and get changed. I note I’ll need to do laundry before I’m collected by whatever Nemoris escort is sent for me in a few days.

Stalking around my room in my underwear, I contemplate Leian’s words while I gather up dirty clothes. He’s right—I’m small. Everything about me is small actually, except for my bug-looking eyes. It works in my favor when sneaking about, making it easy to disguise myself as a child or young man. I’m proud of the lean muscle coating my body, even though my lack of more interesting curves can sometimes grate. I snatch up the last tunic on the ground from in front of my mirror.

The dim light makes my skin seem darker than it is, though I’m still very pale, as is typical for all Mievaborn. No freckles or birthkisses. And somehow, despite the many fights I've been in, not a single scar…except for the ones I’ve accidentally given myself. I flex a palm in the mirror, the lantern light reflecting the silvery lines on my fingers.

I am unmemorable, like a good assassin should be.

Why am I even looking at myself? Worried about what my new Ofnemoris overlords will think of me? I snort in disgust at my vanity but cannot help myself as I turn to appreciate my butt with a smirk.

I plop onto my sofa near the stove. My sitting room is basic and unadorned, with only this gray sofa, a small table with two wooden chairs, a stove, and a large cabinet full of kitchen items. My bedroom is through an archway in the back with a tiny window. Similarly sparse, the focus of both rooms are the weapons leaning against the walls .

The pot starts to boil, so I throw on a tunic before digging through the kitchen cabinet. I add mushroom powder, a wrinkly potato, an onion that’s starting to sprout, and some nondescript dried meat to the pot. It’s simple but delicious and filling.

With a satisfied stomach, I stretch out on my sofa again and let my mind wander about who kidnapped the Princess Ofnemoris and why. It intrigues me that Jaena didn’t give me more details, but maybe she doesn’t know. Monarchs from the five countries stopped requesting to purchase the Silent Assassin many revolutions past when they were consistently told she wasn’t for sale. The fact that Nemoris put in a bid now, surprises me.

That they succeeded, chokes me with rage.

I haven’t been an assassin for almost an entire rev. I quit when my last job required me to kill a woman who threatened the Ofmieva crown. I didn’t realize the threat she posed was because the king had raped her, and she was now carrying his bastard child.

I did it though. If it wasn’t me, it would’ve been someone else. I put a sleeping draught in her dinner and sliced across a lifeblood line in her neck as she slept. She went to sleep and never woke up. I was never allowed to ask why I couldn’t simply ensure the baby died and let the mother live, considering she was almost full-term.

The whole thing was the last straw for me. Especially when I learned that the king had died of a heart attack before I assassinated the woman. His only other living relative is now the queen. My suspicions have always been that the king’s death was not natural. But it matters naught to me now.

After that, I told Jaena I was done being her assassin for hire. I’d sneak and spy, but no longer kill for her. I’m sure Jaena thought I was bluffing, especially after everything she’s done for me. But it’s ten moons later and I've refused three jobs, losing her the gold I would have brought in.

Few people outside Osraed city are aware that I am—or was—the Silent Assassin. They might know the legend, but if they’d met me or heard my true name, they wouldn’t be able to connect the dots. A handful in the compounds know who I am and what I used to do for the council, especially the Patrons living in Osraed who’ve never been sold, like Leian.

A small few took it upon themselves to learn exactly who I was several revs ago. Jaena said it was my own fault and nothing could be done, even though I wasn’t the one who leaked my identity. Apparently , I should’ve stayed locked away in my rooms unless I was actively on assignment. Jaena expected me to be her monster on a leash and nothing more. Thankfully, my anonymity has mostly remained intact for the last few revs.

Other assassins weren’t vilified like I was, but being a Null —and a woman—made me especially heinous. Petitions to the council about my position as a nanny arose not long after my identity was leaked. “Corrupting the youth,” they’d said. Everything was reviewed in massive hearings that took moons. Denied. Every single one was denied, and it was never petitioned again.

The Silent Assassin title started circulating about a decade past, and at that time, no one knew it was me . Jaena had me doing jobs long before my coming-of-age, knowing that as a Null, an announcement wouldn’t be posted for the other five countries to make a bid to purchase me.

It became a game to me. How quietly could I assassinate someone? I got cocky, making sure other people were home, or doing it in public. I never once had a close call.

The only times I've ever had to physically defend myself was while traveling to and from my destinations, and mercenaries or skin traders saw me as an easy mark. Some were smart enough to wonder why a lone woman would be traveling, or what Gift I might have because of these violet eyes marking me as a Patron of the Divine.

Most of the time they were just idiots, and I was able to take out another group of scum from this difficult world.