Chapter 10
But how is that possible?
Sure, I’ve heard rumors about some of these elite killers still lingering around. I’ve heard stories about fights in the streets and how many became bloodbaths because of the assailants they called shadow assassins, who were far too impressive with their blades.
But the stories were hard to believe. Assassins who wielded black magic? They were once called Nightcarvers and were outlawed shortly after the war between Meriva and Ruvain centuries ago because of how lethal they were.
They first originated in the red sand kingdom of Quamira to protect the royals from wicked sea beastials able to walk on land. The only way to truly defeat the beastials was to conjure darker magic.
But then the Nightcarvers used their black magic to take control…all for destruction and power.
In an attempt to overthrow Ruvain’s kingdom, the Nightcarvers killed the ruling King Murren. The crown prince managed to escape, traveled straight to Meriva, and as Ruvain’s newly appointed king, he made a treaty with Meriva to end the war if they helped stop the Nightcarvers.
So both acting kings of Meriva and Ruvain made it law that sorcerers caught using black magic alongside combat in their kingdoms would be killed without trial.
With Quamira’s aid, the Nightcarvers were caught one by one, given muting elixirs to tamp down their magic, and were all either beheaded or hanged.
That put an end to the dark sorcerer-assassin era…and made it abundantly clear that anyone else who tried to replicate that behavior would face the same fate.
And yet, here is Thane—just as destructive as the whispers and rumors.
The Divine soldiers have a certain code of conduct.
They fight with specific trained techniques, and their skills are uniform, at best. I’ve gone on many tours of the Crystal Palace grounds and witnessed some of their training.
None of it comes close to the tricks Thane is performing right now, and it’s both remarkable and terrifying.
What I pay attention to most from Thane’s magic are the black shadows trailing the gold streams after every blow. Each sorcerer has their own color-coded essence, but the use of white magic never comes with a trail of black.
Where the shadows did this man come from? And who am I really dealing with? If he is some kind of assassin, where does that leave me? A combination of dread and fear wraps around me like a snake and squeezes tight.
If I could capture him and turn him in, the queen would pay handsomely for it.
There is a bounty on the head of any shadow assassin.
That must be why Garyn tried to take him down.
And whoever this Maliek person is, it must be why he’s searching for Thane, too.
They know all about his power or are at least suspicious of him and want to exchange him for coin.
Regardless, what I realize is that hiring Thane was a mistake.
I’ve really fucked up.
As the fighting and killing continues, I snatch up my rucksack and run toward the gate in a panic, dodging Garyn, who is too busy watching more of his men get slaughtered.
The shock of it all has my whole body feeling cold. I have to get out of here.
When I make it out, Chaun is still at the front gates, but he doesn’t bother chasing me. Instead, he busts out laughing as he watches me run toward the forest that leads back to Meriva. It’s almost like Chaun knew Thane would start a fight and is glad he doesn’t have to be a part of it.
I stumble on an uneven patch of ground and stop for a moment to catch my breath before taking off in a full sprint again.
Even though I’ve gotten farther away, relief is nowhere to be found.
Will it ever be found again, actually? Thane knows my name.
My face. Where I live. Where I work. Now that I know who and what he is, he might kill me just to tie up loose ends.
Bile rises up my throat, and it burns. I swallow it back down. No time for throwing up, Zaira. You gotta hide.
If anyone catches me with a possible shadow assassin, I’ll be strung up right along with him. I mean, it’s clear that Thane’s a fighter.
Or defender?
A brute, if you will.
Anyone who wears buffers daily does so because they expect to be in brawls and altercations involving weapons. I know that.
But this?
No. There is no way I can be a part of this. I have to hide. Figure something else out—anything else.
I don’t stop running until I make it to the dirt field just outside of Redclaw. I plant a hand on a tree trunk, sucking in gulps of air as I peer over my shoulder.
Then I hear something.
Rapid clomping.
Horse hooves beat into the ground, coming closer, growing louder by the second.
My heart plummets when I spot the line of people on horses galloping in my direction. I take off again, running full speed as my satchel slaps against my waist, and the straps of my rucksack dig into my shoulders. I kick up dirt, racking my brain to remember how to return to Meriva.
What was I even thinking following him into Redclaw? I must be losing it. That or I’ve gone full-blown delusional. Trusting a stranger with swords and too many daggers to help me cross the world. Did I really think this was a good idea?
Under so much duress, it’s nearly impossible to retrace my steps.
The galloping beats through me, rattling my bones.
I run harder.
Faster.
But it’s not enough.
In one smooth movement, I’m swept off the ground in a magical grip. I scream as I realize Thane is the culprit. He’s riding the black-and-ivory horse mere feet behind me. Just as quickly as I was picked up, I’m placed down on the horse’s back and planted firmly behind him.
“Orvena help me!” I cry, locking my arms around Thane’s middle so I won’t bounce off the horse and fall to my death. I mean, really. I’ve made it this far. It would be anticlimactic to die in a mere horse-riding accident.
I glance behind us, and there are people chasing us. Seven of Garyn’s men ride horses, too, weapons raised and teeth bared.
“Look out!” I yell.
I duck as one of them rides to our side and swipes at Thane’s head with an ax. Thane ducks in time and throws up a hand, sending the man flying off his horse with a strong burst of gold.
Another appears, and Thane conjures a dagger, flicking with a flourish of his wrist and stabbing it into the man’s forehead. I gasp as I watch blood gush around the blade. Then Thane’s magic yanks it out and returns it to him. The man falls off his horse and slams to the ground.
“Oh, gods. I’m gonna be sick,” I groan.
“Throw up on me, and I’ll shove you off this horse,” Thane threatens over his shoulder.
One by one, Thane finishes them off.
When the last man standing quite literally loses his head, we come to a halt and survey the damage. We’ve left nothing but innocent horses wandering an open field among the littered remains of dead riders. Not an image I ever thought I’d see and surely not one I’ll ever get out of my head.
The horse beneath me grunts as Thane whips the reins.
We ride off, leaving destruction in our wake.
…
It’s not until we reach the bridge outside Meriva that we come to a full stop.
I immediately climb off our steed and stagger away, bile rising in my throat.
Eventually, I can’t hold it in anymore. I turn and vomit on a pile of silver rocks.
Farewell to the bread with raspberry spread I had for breakfast.
I spit the acidic taste out of my mouth as Thane swings a leg over the horse and hops to the ground. “You ran the wrong way.” His tone is much too calm for my liking right now.
I swipe the arm of my tunic over my mouth while holding up my other hand, waving him off. “You need to stay away from me!”
He stops and crosses his arms over his chest. “So you purposely ran the wrong way?”
“Yes!” I shout. “I was trying to get away from you!”
He looks me over, mildly confused.
“What was that?”
“I was protecting you.”
“That back there? That was a massacre!”
“Is that not what you paid me for?” he asks, genuinely bewildered.
“No!” I run my fingers through my hair, only for them to get tangled in the curls, which frustrates me further. “Don’t tell me you’re what I think you are.” I pant raggedly as I drop my arms. “There’s no way those rumors are true. It’s illegal for your kind to exist!”
Thane moves closer—so close I can feel the heat radiating from his massive body. “What is it you think I am, Quinlocke?” His voice is an ominous warning as he searches my face, daring me to say it.
“There has only been one group of people known to fight like you do, but they were outlawed a very long time ago, way before you were ever even born. I’ve heard stories that they’re still around but…
you’re young,” I breathe. “You can’t be older than, what?
Your twenty-fourth or twenty-fifth year?
So how do you know how to fight like that? ”
“Twenty-fourth,” he confirms. “And how do you think I know how to fight like that?”
I take a second to form the words.
“You’re a shadow assassin,” I whisper, like there are other people around who might hear.
“A sorcerer-assassin…like the Nightcarvers in the past. Tell me I’m wrong.
Tell me you’re just a person who wields magic and is unbelievably good with a sword.
Tell me the black shadows in your magic were all my imagination. ”
I search for any tells I can make out, but with his mask in the way, it’s tricky. His eyes, though…they harden at the nearly forbidden words.
Sorcerer.
Nightcarver.
Shadow assassin.
“I asked if you were sure about this before we left. You said yes. Should’ve asked your questions then.” He yanks his mask down, revealing scars that seem much more sinister now. “This is what you paid for.” He jabs his thumb to his chest. “This is what you get.”
“So it’s true?” I ask.
He shakes his head, working his jaw. “The less we talk about it, the better, Quinlocke.”
“I—I just don’t understand—”