Chapter Four Ablaze
"The most powerful weapon in the world is the soul on fire."
Anger and wrath moved Adan back towards the castle.
She had never met a male that had the ability to spark her rage so quickly.
Czandra was right, he was going to be a problem and there would be no ignoring him, he would see to that.
Not unless she was faster. If she caught the captain without Hollow's help, she might even be rewarded—forgiven for her misstep.
And then she could go back to ignoring those simpering sycophants and focus on the real problems at hand.
If she dealt with the captain quickly, then her 'Lord' problem would be no more.
Then she could go back to pretending the gentry don't exist, and she could keep Czandra from worrying.
She could have her life back again, however small and inconsequential it was.
She waited for the cloak of night to fall before she left the castle again.
Covering up in her leathers, her hood on and mask up and her thick hair tied in a plait down her spine.
She pulled at her gloves before making the first ascent up the buildings.
Jumping from roof to roof heading towards the Loch once again.
The Loch was lit by braziers of fire on the docks and the boardwalk that hugged the port.
Some homes were lit with candles, the more prominent families could afford the expensive oils and wood for long burning heat.
But in peak summer it was unnecessary, which made Adan's job of sneaking about all the easier.
She made her way to the roof she knew would hold the answers she sought. She crept into the open window of the finely furnished office. The smell of leather and salt hit her nose as she looked over the desk.
One ledger lay open, and she skimmed through it with the help of the moonlight. Not wanting to risk lighting a candle and giving away her position. She plopped down in the high-back polished wooden chair, the dark brown leather creaked against her own skin wrapped in tight black leather.
It wasn't long until the owner of the office returned from his nightly rounds on the pier.
Aslan Horris, disgraced mermaid and ex-member of the House of Glass.
The Loch might be part of the kings court, but the water below belonged to Mallia Ekon, a powerful hydra and queen of the sea.
Adan knew that if the king ever found a way to breathe underwater, he would come for the underworld next.
Mallia knew it too, so she left world walkers to their business and stayed away, deep down in her ocean court.
Horris lit a few candles upon his entrance to his own office before he noticed Adan behind his desk.
A small shriek and a muffled cry escaped his lips before he managed to compose himself.
She pulled at her mask freeing her mouth so that he might see her better.
So that he might realize who was in the room with him—waiting for him.
By the sweat beading down his temples and the dilation of his pupils he knew exactly who sat before him.
"Interesting books you're keeping here, dock master."
She slammed closed the leather tomb in her hand for emphasis and a shake in his shoulders, bloomed a ghost of a smile on her face.
"I say books—plural because you have two of them."
She kicked the hidden door at the bottom of the desk, and more leather-bound books fell at her feet.
She tsked at him as he stood there ringing his hands.
"Please..." he began, and she held up a glove hand to silence him. Gracefully rising from the desk to move so that she could lean against the front and assess him more clearly in the dark light.
"It's a criminal offence to steal from the crown, and It seems you have been skimming from dock fees for quite some time now, Horris." She tilted her head with predatory intent to assess the dock master.
"Please..." he begged, "I'll do anything." He started crying, and the sight of it made Adan's skin crawl.
She snorted a sound of disgust and waved her hand at him, silencing him. "Just tell me where to find Captain Jax's ship, and I'll be on my way."
Immediately the snivelling man silenced himself fully, and pointed to the end of the peer. "Row nine, slip four."
Not only are you a thief, but a rat too.
Adan wasted no time and slipped back out the window she entered in and scaled down the building. She found the slip easily enough, the large boat rocking with the push of the waves. It appeared empty, no sounds or light came from the deck.
She checked her hood, readjusted her mask and began climbing the large rope lines to sneak aboard the captain's ship.
It was oddly quiet for a ship this size, but she couldn't refuse the opportunity to find out more about the slave trader.
She crept in the shadows, keeping to the edge in case she needed a quick escape.
Adan easily found the captain's quarters on the aft deck and slipped inside.
The silence of the ship was so deafening that when the door click shut she knew she was in trouble. She lunged for the handle, and found none.
"Fuck." She immediately sprang at the back windows that looked out at the water and slammed her palms against them. Controlled and concentrated swirls of her power exploded from her hands. One wrong misstep, and she would burn this whole boat down, not that she cared.
The thick glass held strong against the onslaught of her burning palms. She pressed harder, her back aching with the strain. A small crack rippled down the glass, bringing Adan some hope. She stopped and pulled back, panting with the strain of her power.
She was strong for a fire-wielder, but using too much too fast would burn her up from the inside out, and the glass was particularly stubborn.
It wasn't until heat bloomed at her back that she started to worry.
She looked back over her shoulder to find that wicked fast fire burning away everything in its path.
If she didn't move quickly, she would be burned to death.
The wood warped, and the ship rocked, forcing her to widen her stance.
She was trapped in a wooden box of fire placed over the ocean.
If the fire didn't get her, then the queen of the ocean most certainly would.
The ship groaned and fire crackled in her ear.
Smoke burned her eyes and filled her lungs.
She was going to need fresh air—and soon.
She might heal quickly, but she could only survive without oxygen for so long.
Would Jax be crazy enough to burn his ship down just to kill me? The king would not stop. He would only send someone else, the Captain had to know that. This would only buy him a head start....
Adan surveyed her surroundings, the fire now spreading to the floor and ceiling.
She had to act fast or perish with the ship.
She would never break through the glass in time, and the fire behind her was quickly consuming the small, empty room.
There was nothing in there to help her, it was completely barren.
Oh, he planned this alright. He knew I would come.
Normally, she would have been smarter, taken her time. Watched the dock for several days, found out his routine and planned. She acted rashly because of Lord Lennox Hollow. She wanted him gone.
As far as Adan was concerned. This was his fault.
She knew what she had to do, and she hated it. She pulled on those mental walls and steadied her feet. It was a rare thing to have fire magic, but to not burn from it was something else entirely. She focused her energy on the closest outside wall.
She was boiling in her leathers as fire burned all around her—threw her.
While it consumed her, she thought of only one thing.
She was going to kill Lennox Hollow.
—
Not two hours later, soaked and burnt she trudged up the stone steps to the Sicarii, home to the City of Bones's best eight assassins—herself included. Even if she no longer lived here.
The soft blue of the night sky was fading at the encroaching sight of dawn, swaths of violet began to take over. She needed to be quick about this before anyone noticed.
She left the docks burning, the Captain had not only burned his ship, and almost her with it, but he had taken more than half the port with him. She did not want to be associated with another burning in the Loch. Especially when her back still itched something fierce.
Her friend and fellow assassin was awake in the main foyer when she stumbled through the front doors.
"Adan!" He cried, closing the book in his hand, and lunged for her. Catching her in his arms as the last of her strength gave out. His hazel eyes looked her over, the first morning rays warmed his dark brown skin. "What happened?"
She didn't want to tell him the truth. If he was questioned by the king, it would only lead to disaster, so she shook her head. The action caused a pounding ache. She might have escaped the fire, but the smoke in her lungs was deadly. She opened her mouth, but not a sound came out.
"Come on." He hoisted her up so that her arm was draped over his wide shoulders and lead her to the baths below the Sicarii.