by J. M. Ivie
“Stop!” he yelled, and the coachman pulled on the reins. Not what I hoped for, but this would work all the same. The vehicle came to a halt a moment later, which allowed the three guards out. As the men searched around the cabin, I took care of the driver. I grabbed the needle tipped with Roja and stabbed it into his neck. I clasped my hand over his mouth and muffled the cry that was about to escape from his lips. A second later he was limp.
“Looks like it was just some log or sum’fin!” one guard remarked.
I jumped down, standing behind the guard and waited for him to turn around. He looked around for a second, then with a casual shrug, he turned to jump back into the carriage.
“What—” he wasn’t able to finish his sentence. I grabbed his arm, spun him around, and slit his throat. It didn’t seem justice enough… but, it would have to do.
“What is going on!”
I heard another guard yell, and I darted along the side of the carriage away from the dead body. The hiss of metal clawed my ears as draw his sword.
“What is it?” asked the other soldier as pulled his weapon in anticipation of battle.
There is two left.
I leapt out, then brought the full force of my leg down on the man’s shin. The sound of his bone snapping resounded in the atmosphere. I wasted no time. Once the other man turned, I brought my blade to his chest and watched as the light drained from his eyes.
“Who are you?” asked the man who lay on the ground in a limp pile of pain. I turned to face him, and his eyes widened. He must have seen my emblem it, for he yelled the name, “A Ranger?”
“Apollo, actually. Though, I am afraid you won’t be able to speak my name to anyone.” I drove my blade into his heart. It wasn’t satisfying enough. I needed to make sure he knew why I was here. I leaned down, pressing the blade deeper. “You must pay for the children, women, and fathers you and your two companions here killed but three days ago. I should do far worse to you!”
The guard gasped for breath. I watched his eyes gloss over and felt his body below the dagger go limp. I was unsure whether what I said had truly done anything, and it left me feeling more hollow than before. I removed the dagger and marched up to the carriage where Oceland’s Ambassador was seated.
“What are you going to do to me, you filth? Kill me?” murmured the Ambassador. His wrinkled features looked like a haggard plum, with deep creases around the unshaven mouth and unruly brows. His eyes looked dead, with no life or vigor in either of his ghost-blue irises. The Ambassador was attempting to hide his fear.
I sighed, sat across from the Ambassador, and shut the door to the cabin behind me. “I’ve been searching for you for quite some time, Ambassador. You’re a difficult man to find, though, it seems I have succeeded at last. As for what I will do to you? I’m here to ease the pain you’ve caused a dear friend of mine.”
“I’m sorry, I do not understand you. Who are you to even be in my presence? You’re a filthy pig! A lowlife! Scum of the underbelly of Welkinia! You haven’t even a right to be speaking to me!”
“Were those all the words you had in your arsenal?”
“I've plenty more for you—”
It was amusing, how he thought he had rule over me, and in such a situation as this. I drew the blade up and pressed it to his throat. The metal still dripped with blood. I didn’t care. I wanted him to feel the pain—the horror. He inflicted so much of it on Laramie. I was only returning the favor. I pressed the blade harder against his flesh, watching as his blood surfaced from the new wound.
“You know what they call me, Ambassador. Say it out loud so you may fully realize the severity of this situation.”
The Ambassador swallowed. His voice, hushed and raspy, made his words barely audible—but, audible enough, “They call you the Avenger of blood. The Destroyer.”
“Good. Now, I will attempt to jog your memory as to one of the many crimes you’ve committed against the people of this land.” I removed the dagger from the Ambassador’s throat and began to clean the blade with my black handkerchief. I looked at him from my blade, drawing the seconds out. I needed him to squirm in his seat. “You ordered a dozen Peregrine riders to ambush a small, independent kingdom on Oceland, hoping that, if the King died, you would gain control over the entire province. Unknown to you, the King entrusted me with the life of his only child.” I gazed at the blade in my hand, admiring it’s every sharp curve and the distinct Fiermontian workmanship. I looked straight into the man’s eyes and laughed. “The Princess lives. She will take back the kingdom which you have wrenched from her grasp. The Woodlands is still loyal to the Aurora family, as you very well know.”
“Well, why not kill me now? Why are you lingering?” the Ambassador’s lip twitched as he spoke. His hands were shaking, despite the resoluteness in his voice, he was afraid.
“For one purpose. Where is Zahra Faithe?” Anger surfaced, boiling up from the time I spent hating this man.
The Ambassador burst into a fit of laughter, shaking his head. “Better luck finding a hummingbird, filth! Azu is careful to protect her. Not only that, but she has been promised to William Gabor!”
Rage boiled inside my gut and, with little thought, I drove the dagger deep into the chest of the Ambassador. “I will just have to find my hummingbird, then.” I watched as the life drained from the Ambassador’s face. I wasn’t sure whether to take the dagger with me, or leave it. After a long moment of thought, I released my hold on the weapon, leaving it embedded in the Ambassador’s chest while I scribbled a note on paper. Perhaps if Azu knew I was still alive, still searching, it would make him do something brash. Something that would draw attention to his whereabouts.
S E V E N T Y - T W O
LARAMIE’S EYES DROPPED AS her fingers clutched the sword in her hand. She traced the red leather with her finger, picking at the stitching with her nail. “So, it’s done?” Her chestnut hair fell in fragile waves down her shoulders as she slumped forward.
“Yes.” I walked closer to her, only to have her recoil from my touch.
“What now?” Her eyes shot up at me, brimming with tears. “I wanted to see his face when he lost everything. He took everything from me…”
“Laramie,” I grabbed her arm. She kept quiet—silently fuming. I could feel rage radiating from her body, the pent-up anger she kept hidden.
“I—” Laramie looked away from me for a second, her breath coming in random spikes.
“Don’t be like me, Laramie. You’re different… you’re not a killer. I don’t think you could have stood there and let me kill him like I did.” I dropped to my knees, keeping my grip on her. “You’re a light.” I lifted her chin, looking her in the eyes. I traced every hurt expression in her face, every pained line that worked its way into her delicate brow. “Laramie. Keep your chin held high… you’re brave. A different, beautiful kind of brave that shows in your kindness. The Woodlands will be yours soon. I’ll make sure of that. You know the people are still loyal to you… and to your father.”
Her lip quivered. Her body finally relaxed under my grip, and I released her.
“I’m sorry, Apollo,” she muttered, leaning her forehead on my chest. “You’re right. I… I don’t think I could have watched him die.” She pressed her hand to her forehead, biting her lip with such force I thought I could see a tinge of blood surface.
The stifling summer wind poured into the clearing, bringing its humid air in and battering my lungs. There was no other way, I supposed—no other way to keep them safe.
“Now, we focus on the Woodlands and you regaining control.” I plucked the sword from her hand. She didn’t fight, she nodded, allowing me to sheathe her short sword. Before I slid it into its sheath, the Fiermontian etchings along the blade caught my eye. In Fiermontian, I recognized the symbols and their meaning.
Kip trosolo agia Dragolo. The heart of the Dragon.
My breath caught in my lungs, keeping me from expelling it into the warm summer wind. “Barak was gifted…
” I managed. “He wanted to retire and paint, you know.”
Laramie smiled, sitting down on the grass. “Do you think he would have?”
I shook my head, “No. He was a warrior. I don’t think he could have been anything else.”
Laramie fiddled with the blades of grass, keeping her eyes fixed on the ground. “I only knew him for a little while… but, he was a brother to you,” she said. “I imagine it would be like me losing you.”
I looked at her. Her words had caught me off guard, not realizing what I had been doing. Selfish. I’d been saying it was for Laramie and the children. Telling myself I couldn’t lose them. I had forgotten—they could lose me. If I died, Laramie would feel what I felt. Empty. Fueled by nothing more than revenge.
“I’ve been selfish, haven’t I?” I muttered, scratching my head.
Laramie smiled, brushing off the bits of grass that stuck to her hands. “A little.”
I knelt down beside her, offering her my hand. “Can you forgive me?”
She hesitated. “Only if you make me a promise.”
“Anything.”
“I want Apollo back. My Apollo. The Apollo who laughed at silly things, told jokes and stories as if they were the best thing in the whole realm!”
“Hey!” I scowled. “My stories are the best thing in the whole realm.”
A bright smile erupted on her face. “Good!” She laughed. “And, they really aren’t. They’re close… but, I can’t bear another Akushu story.”
I pat her head, taking a seat beside her. “Hey, I still need to perfect it. I think I’ll replace the word potent with noxious when I refer to the smell. Seems to pack the punch I need.”
Laramie faked a gag, shaking her head. “I’ll act dramatic if you tell that story again. I mean it too… moaning agony dramatic.”
I cleared my throat, “I shall now tell you of the time I was trapped in a frozen bunker with a dozen pregnant Akushu!”
Laramie groaned, dramatic as she so said. “Not that story, Apollo! Please, spare my ears?” she whimpered.
I rubbed my lips together, trying to wrack my brain for how I could deliver the next line with as much power as possible. After a moment, I snapped my fingers and stated, “Their foul spray wouldn’t release its pungently noxious grip on my skin for nearly a week!”
“You really have this down pat. Good. It’s rehearsed. Can we go home now and forget about the Akushu incident?”
“I don’t think so…” I grinned. “You said you wanted the storyteller back. And, well, that’s exactly what I will do. I will go back and tell my story.”
Laramie smiled, resting her head on my shoulder. “Can you start from when you met Zahra? I’d like to hear that story again.”
I looked at her, only seeing her brown hair as she leaned against me. “All right. But, I will have to tell you about how I ended up meeting Zahra. You know, she was a mission at first?”
Laramie looked up at me, her brows furrowing. “You mean it wasn’t all love at first sight?”
“Oh, believe me, it was.” I laughed. “Before love at first sight, there was hate-before-meet. I hated the Hierarchy.”
Laramie laughed, “And you ended up marrying a Countess! That’s really adorable, you know.”
“Yes.” I looked up at the sky, tracing the outline of the moons through the trees. “I suppose it is.”
SEVENTY - THREE
I RACED BACK INTO THE WOODS, shoving open the cook’s tent. “Laramie!” I breathed in and out, trying to steady my nerves.
“What’s wrong?”
“Men have gathered three miles outside of camp.” I shuffled through the items till I found my ax.
“And?” Laramie asked in a voice which seemed like a blur as I checked my body, preparing myself.
“And… I heard they are hot on the trail of someone… someone clipped off a valuable member of the Guild.”
She stifled a gasp. “Who’s the Guild?”
“The Guild is a group of Anarchists located just off the coast of Bouldarcaven. I alerted the men. You should be fine… I believe they don’t know we even exist.”
“I’ll come—”
“No!” I spun around. “Stay here. If something happens, Laramie. You—” I swallowed the words, shaking my head.
“I’m the last line of defense. Me and the men.” She placed her hand on my arm as if trying to settle my nerves. “I understand.”
I nodded. “Go about as you normally do. Keep your sword near.”
Laramie groaned, fidgeting with the beads on her coat. “Be careful.”
___
I saw them standing there, looking like two unsuspecting infants. I knew a Noble would have nothing to do with the Anarchists, though, I couldn’t be certain whether he was with the Talismen. His appearance appeared disheveled, and a cut ran along his cheek.
The time to sit and examine the two was short-lived. I saw the figures of the men from my hiding spot. I had to work quickly and ignore the two for now. I counted the figures, trying to keep my tabs on which ones I needed to pick off first.
With a long breath, I exited the woods, trying to hint at the impending danger behind them. Without speaking, I drew my ax and charged in their direction.
It appeared I hinted well; they both readied for combat. Good. The enemies began pouring from the surrounding forest, charging me and the Nobles. Seems like they have no other choice.
I slid on my knees, spun my ax, and buried the blade in the chest of one man. I pulled it back out and struck the face against another. With the tilt of my body, I avoided the sword that drove my direction and countered it with my ax to the chest of that man. I turned again and spun out of the way, narrowly evading the dagger that cut through the air beside me. I used the throat of my weapon to block his attack, then struck the knob into the gut of a second man, and the knob of my ax into the face of the third.
I thrust the throat into the face of the first man, hacked into the chest of the second, then used the dagger from the first to slay the third. It was then that another man approached. His burly shoulders were squared, and his body stood erect.
“The Destroyer,” the man said, tilting his head to the side and laughing.
I recognized him by the emblem he wore on his lapel. A scythe. The executioner. Tesla’s head rolling on the ground shot through my memory; the sound of Duncan’s taunts…
The look in Elric’s eyes as he said he loved his daughter.
“Where is that little Princess?”
“Safe from you,” I grunted, forcing the memories out of my mind. “How is it at the Woodlands since I picked off the head? Is it nice?”
“This ends today!” The man ran toward me.
I ducked his first blow, but he was able to strike me with another. I spun, blocked his attack with the steel of my ax, and kicked him in the chest.
He jumped backward, ducking my next attack and striking his sword against my ax. I narrowly avoided the steel of the Anarchist’s blade by taking a long step back. I had little time to react. An immense weight struck me in my gut.
“Tired?” he taunted as I gasped for breath. “Once I do away with you, your group of followers will be next!”
“You flatter yourself!” I spat and flipped my ax.
“Unlike you, I am prepared to meet death!” The man spit blood from his mouth and grinned wickedly. With a triumphant cry he charged full force at me, blade drawn. The torrent of sparks from our weapons flew through the still sky.
He changed… shifting from cool and even to enraged.
Find the humor. Find the humor.
He looked like a jester in the Courts with his black ringed eyes and pale skin.
This was my chance.
I pulled the dagger from my belt and jabbed it into his shoulder.
He screamed as he pulled the blade from his body and grasped his wound with his free hand. It was at this moment he met his doom; his life ended with the blade of my ax buried deep in his chest.
&nb
sp; Silence overtook the forest as I turned to face the two men and the eagle. “I won’t kill any men without reason. So, tell me, who are you and where does your allegiance lie?” I pointed my ax at the blond. My ears nearly bled as the angered eagle shrieked.
The young man took a step toward me, lowered his brow, and said in a voice that could have been smoother than honey itself, “I am Alvar, and my allegiance lies with the King.”
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I cannot express how grateful I am to everyone who has had a hand in making this book possible. If I were to try and put down all my thanks, I would create a new book.
My family, first and foremost, has been the most supportive. I am grateful to my sister who is always willing to listen to me ramble about the project. You are amazing and I am so blessed to call you my sister!
For my brothers who were a major source of inspiration. You three are just phenomenal! This book wouldn’t be half of what it is without you guys.
A special thank you to my beta-readers, Vicki, Kit, Aslan, Jessey, Kaylee, Meles, Promise, and my mom. You guys are so amazing and helpful. I couldn't have asked for better!
To my amazing critique partner, Bruna, a very special thank you for helping me weed through the multiple drafts. You were the extra pair of eyes this book needed.
Thank you to my proof readers, my sister and Josh, you two were so helpful in combing through the book looking for errors!
And, to my God and King, the one and only Lord and savior, I thank you for all that you have done. There are no words which I can say or type that can express that gratitude.
