by Everly Frost
I sprint toward the nearest stack of wooden crates, counting on the guards to be smart enough not to fire at the explosives. Darting behind it, I check my wound, grimacing at the flowing blood before I take a deep breath.
Focus, Hunter.
I’m still invisible, but the moment I start firing, they will know where I am. Shots from the other side of the room tell me that Slade is on the move and the men are struggling to keep up.
Arms outstretched, I rise up on one knee, take aim at the oncoming men and fire rapid shots. One, two, three, four…
I only have eight darts in each gun and I quickly empty all of them into the oncoming horde, pulling the trigger in quick repetition. Slade’s end of the warehouse falls silent—he’s got them all—but I’m out of tranquilizers and there are still four men coming at me.
I launch myself out from behind the crate. Just as I plan a reckless path into the spray of bullets coming my way, an invisible force rams through the men from behind, scattering them before four quick darts appear in each of their chests.
Slade materializes mid-spin. “You okay, Hunter?”
I adjust the harness I’m wearing so that it covers my bullet wound. If Slade sees it, he’ll pull me out of here right away and we still have the vault to deal with. My black suit will hide the blood for now.
Satisfied that he won’t see it, I let out my breath, managing a truthful answer. “I’m a little banged up.”
He frowns, running his eyes over me, closing the gap to check me over. I pull away before he gets too close. “We need to keep moving.”
He gives me a growl that says he doesn’t like my evasion, but he holsters his empty tranquilizer gun and hands me his spare. “Just in case.”
I angle the weapon at the vault. “We need to know what’s inside that vault.”
We stride toward it before coming to a standstill. It’s about nine feet high and just as wide—a big, gleaming metal box. The panel at the side tells me it’s password controlled.
“Or not,” I say, since it appears impenetrable.
Slade arcs an eyebrow at me. “Let me try.”
I watch carefully as he closes his eyes. He has used his power to control doors before but unlocking a vault seems like a stretch.
To my surprise, he doesn’t make a move. Instead, our surroundings change.
A long corridor appears, plain white walls rising up beside us. When I turn, it stretches in either direction as far as my eye can see.
“A Realm?” I ask, wondering how that will help us.
Slade says, “Take five steps forward.”
I do as he asks, stopping when he places his hand on my arm. The Realm fades, replaced by darkness.
I blink into the dark. “Did we just step inside the vault?”
Slade’s assassin’s ring glows, filling the space around us with dim, silver light.
He smiles. “We did.”
I turn in a circle, staring at the piles of cash and neatly-laid-out-jewelry that lines the shelves. It’s all blood money.
“These walls are cast iron. We won’t be able to destroy the vault from the outside. Do you have a match? We can light all this on fire and then get out of here.”
His eyes gleam, silver light bleeding into them. “I think I can do one better.”
He places both hands against the inside of the door and braces against it. I take a step back when the metal creaks and groans. Slowly, he pulls his hands apart and the door splits in two, a small rip that grows wider the further he separates his hands. Sunlight gleams through the expanding crack. Screaming metal fills my ears and I flinch as the top of the vault rips apart, each side folding down toward the ground. The money rustles in the fresh breeze.
Slade turns back to me, the silver clearing from his eyes.
I stare at him in surprise. “How did you do that?”
He has used his assassin’s magic to control the movement of objects and people before but not to this extent.
“The iron,” he says. “It’s like putty in my hands. Same with doors—it’s not the wood but the hinges and the handles that I focus on.”
I reflect on my power and Amalia’s. Slade derives his power to make Realms from her. He got his wings from me. But he was already incredibly strong and that is because he is a ringmaker…
I shake off the direction of my thoughts and state the obvious with a smile. “Now an explosion will destroy it all.”
Slade smiles. “Let’s get the men out of here.”
Ten minutes later, we have dragged or flown Amalia’s guards well away from the warehouse, ensuring that they will be safe. Asking me to stay at that distance and to be ready to fly, Slade wastes no time loading the missile launcher and firing into the empty building. The explosion washes across me, wood and glass exploding in a satisfying plume of fire and smoke.
He strides toward the burning building and hoists the launcher off his shoulder. His muscles bunch before he throws it into the inferno. It spins through the air and disappears into the wreckage. Then he pulls out his burner phone complete with a voice distorter and reports the fire to the authorities. Not that the explosion wouldn’t have attracted attention already.
The phone follows the same arc as the launcher.
He turns back to me. “We need to mo—” His eyes widen and his voice takes on a worried tone. “Hunter, you’re hurt.”
A brief glance at my shoulder tells me that all of the moving around has shifted my harness and revealed my bullet wound. Slade immediately bends to one of the unconscious men and rips off his shirt, using it to bind my shoulder and staunch the blood flow. I’m reminded of Annabeth’s mother. Now I’m the one with my enemy’s shirt keeping me from passing out.
As soon as he is finished, Slade gathers me into his arms. “I’m taking you to Tansy right away.”
I don’t object. A week ago, I would have, but the blood loss has left me light-headed and I’m done pretending that I’m fine.
Slade holds me tight as he blurs and takes to the sky, speeding high above the rooftops. His warmth and energy are so strong that they tingle through me, making me feel less like death warmed up.
“Thank you,” I whisper into his chest, even though I’m not sure if he can hear me.
He coasts for a moment, taking his eyes off the sky to drop a kiss on my forehead. “From now on, please tell me when you’re hurt, okay?”
“Oka—”
Oomph!
A hard object smacks me right out of his arms, spinning us both off course. My wings burst out of me as I fall. I spiral, quickly forcing my wings closer to my body to turn my wild tumble into a focused dive. I dip and rise again, following Slade’s path.
I sense a presence in the sky higher above us.
Roses.
Chapter Six
Amalia appears on my left, higher up and close to the cloud cover, her wings curving as she aims to fly back at me. The last time I saw her, she threatened to take Slade’s soul.
Panic spears through me and I shout to Slade. “You can’t let her near you. I’ll hold her off. Go!”
His fists clench, his wings beat, and he stays put. “You’re hurt. I’m not leaving you.”
I dive at him, pushing him away. “She can kill you, Slade. Go! Now!”
With a shout of frustration, he twists and plunges away through the air, casting backward glances my way until he disappears into the cloud cover.
Just in time. Amalia has almost reached me.
I fly at her, intercepting her downward path. She pushes backward with her wings, maintaining a safe gap between us. With a brief glance at Slade, she lets him go.
The sky rapidly darkens around us. Lightning flickers in the distance. The air buzzes and the hairs on my arms stand on end. The storm grows far too quickly to be a natural phenomenon. Below me, the Earth is replaced by a sea of boiling clouds.
Amalia has trapped me in another Realm of her creation, this time an electrified storm. Relief fills me that Slade escaped just i
n time.
Her wings don’t work as well as mine because of the Keres feathers she wears. I can beat her in the sky, so she is compensating by making me fight the environment as well.
I scream into the growing wind. “Coward!”
A bolt of lightning strikes close by, electricity sizzling the air.
Amalia’s silhouette lights up in the bright bursts and her voice carries to me over the sound of the storm, amplified by her power. “Oh, Hunter. You don’t look so great.”
Damn the bullet wound.
“That wound won’t heal without a lot of help,” she says. “It would be so much simpler if you joined me. You could take a Keres feather and live like me.”
I fly toward the edge of the storm, testing the limits of the Realm around me, sensing the boundary before I hit it. Then I fly the other way, testing its width. It is not as wide as I had hoped, not as much room to maneuver.
She has boxed me in.
I whirl back to her. “What the hell do you want?”
Her wings curve, creaking closed. Just like she did during the sandstorm she created last night, she conjures a platform beneath her feet that supports her in the air. “You destroyed my warehouse, Hunter. I’m a little upset about that.”
“Good. That was the point.”
She’s wearing another dress, its length flowing around her as the platform carries her to my position. I ascertained during our fight that her legs are her weakness, although I’m not entirely sure what’s wrong with them, because she keeps them covered at all times.
Her radiant hazel eyes and glossy brown hair defy the fact that she is dying, too. She halts a few feet away from me. Every beat of my wings gusts across her, but she seems to delight in the sensation.
She says, “I used to fly like you. My wings were young and strong.”
I say, “You didn’t trap me here for a walk down memory lane, Amalia.”
“Queen!” she snaps. “I am not Amalia to you. I am your queen.”
No. I refuse to acknowledge her claim of power over me. “The warehouse, your money, and your weapons are gone. There’s nothing more to talk about.”
“But there is. There’s the—” Her eyes suddenly narrow. She sucks in a sharp breath. “Oh… you don’t know.”
I demand, “Know what?”
She laughs, a delighted sound. “Poor Hunter is in the dark again.”
I glare back at her as she floats closer. What the hell is she talking about?
She licks her lips. “Tell me, Hunter… where is the Horde’s Realm?”
It’s such a sudden change of subject that I stare at her. “Why are you asking me that?”
She revealed last night that she has difficulty lying to me. It’s why she stayed away from me for so long, but so far today, she has done a splendid job of resisting her impulses. Not this question, it seems.
She blurts, “Because Cain has something I want and I intend to get it back. You will tell me where the Horde’s Realm is hidden—”
“No.”
She takes a threatening step toward me, teetering on the edge of her platform, floating higher than me so that she looms over me.
I rise to meet her, swallowing my anger. “I don’t know where it is. I’ve never been there.”
She snarls, “Damn. You aren’t lying. I can tell when you lie to me.” She tilts her head back and shouts into the wind, “Useless girl!”
I shake my head at her. I’m done listening to her riddles. I beat my wings, pushing away from her, prepared to beat down the walls of this Realm if I have to, but she lurches forward, barely remaining on her platform, to grab my arm with fingers that feel like claws.
She gives me a sly smile. “Tell me, Hunter, who do you think would win in a fight between Cain and Slade?”
Slade’s name rises to my lips. He is the strongest assassin, with the most powerful assassin’s magic. In addition, he is a Valkyrie. Cain is strong, but in a fight between them, there is no doubt in my mind who would win. “Stop playing games with me, Amalia.”
“Queen!” She grinds her teeth but pulls back, her head held high. “Would it influence your answer if I told you that Cain wears a Keres ring?”
“What?” The exclamation leaves my lips before I can stop it.
The first-known Keres ring is a training ring that Slade used to wear. He assured me that when he became Master, he took it out of circulation. The second known ring sits hidden in a drawer in my room. Now Amalia is telling me that Cain wears the third. I’m not sure how that’s possible. Cain touched me plenty of times. Surely the Keres ring would have burned me…
Except that he wasn’t allowed to wear it in Boston. He only wore it in the Realm and I had no direct physical contact with him on those occasions.
Amalia floats closer to me again. “You’d better stop them fighting each other, Hunter.”
“Why would they—?”
“Or the outcome will be devastating.”
Why is she saying that Slade will fight Cain? They’re friends. There’s no reason for them to fight…
She’s messing with me, that’s all. She enjoyed telling me last night that I’m dying. She is enjoying the mind games she’s playing with me now. Her sick revenge for her lost warehouse.
“Let me out of here!” I follow up my demand with a fist that she quickly blocks with her forearm. She uses the contact to push off from me, the platform whisking her away.
She shouts across the distance, “You will find out the location of the Horde’s Realm for me or—”
I’m done taking orders from her. I soar toward her, reaching deep for my killing power as I sweep my wings and knock her off her platform. As we drop through the air, my hand closes over her forearm, my power sizzles through my fingertips, and the nearest Keres feather bursts into flame. The ashes rise like flower petals as we plummet, illuminated in the lightning that crackles around us.
Amalia’s eyes shoot wide with fear. A scream dies in her throat. Her wings snap open with a painful crack and she tears away from me, taking flight into the storm before I can get a tighter hold on her. I follow her through the lightning. If she’s going to box me in, then I sure as hell am going to make her pay for it.
Her flight is jagged and uneven, uncontrolled, but she has the advantage that she controls our surroundings. I zip and weave through the glittering lightning bolts she sends my way, barely escaping the path of the last electric strike before I catch up with her. My hand closes over the top of her wing, yanking her backward.
I will make her regret coming near me. I will make her think twice about trying it again.
Her face lights up as the storm crashes around us. Off balance, she attempts to steady herself by grabbing my wing, but I angle out of her grasp, leaving her to spin. I don’t let her regain her balance, my furious fists slamming into her shoulder, cheek, and jaw.
Her head snaps back before she can propel herself out of my reach. She manages to evade my next hit and the one after that, wobbling like a butterfly in the wind. I increase the speed of my punches, forcing her to twist and spin to avoid me.
I scream at her, “I told you I will bring the Keres woman to you. Stay the hell away from me until I do.”
She launches herself backward with a scream. “You’re lying! You won’t do it!”
I break into a smile, easing up for long enough to allow her to get her hands up to protect her face. “You have no power over me, Amalia.”
She screams at me, pushing away into the storm, her wing beats painfully slow as she disappears.
I watch her go, my anger replaced with confusion.
None of what she said makes sense to me. What could make Slade and Cain fight? And why does she want to know where the Horde’s Realm is located?
I need answers but first I have to get out of this place. I also need help for my wound.
I soar toward the edge of the storm while the wind billows around me, strong enough to throw me off course. The clouds break and rain pours do
wn, fat droplets beating against my wings and forcing me toward the clouds below, until I adjust the angle of my flight to accommodate the extra pressure falling from above. I wrench myself upward and to the side, banging against the Realm’s boundary, anger churning inside me again.
Amalia left the Realm intact. Damn her. Could she leave me here for days? Weeks? Longer? She probably thinks she can subdue me here.
I’ve faced assassin’s magic before. I remind myself that her magic is my magic too—Valkyrie power. I never learned how to create a Realm. I don’t know if it’s possible for me, whether it’s only something Amalia can do, but even if I can’t make a Realm… I’m going to learn how to un-make one. Right now.
The edge of the Realm is an optical illusion. It looks like sky and clouds stretch far into the distance, lightning reflecting inside them, but when I plant my hands against it, it is flat and solid.
I close my eyes and reach deep for my power.
I’m good at destroying things. This should be no different.
Power surges through my fingertips, a bright force that sparks through the barrier, threads of silver fire cutting across its surface.
Crack.
The barrier shatters like glass, jagged shards spiraling inward, cutting the air as they fly toward my face and body. I fling my wings around myself and turn my back to the onslaught. Blades slice across my feathers, but my wings are strong, indestructible. Even in my weakened state, they protect me.
I huddle inside them, drawing my knees to my chest, curled up inside the cocoon I created.
Thunder cracks around me and then… silence.
The shards beating against me turn into cool rain drops, a final gentle shower of them falling across me. I take the chance to open my wings, water dripping off me to the Earth far below.
An ordinary sky greets me, a weak sun peeking through the clouds.
The Realm is gone.
I quickly harness my blur to keep me obscured. My energy wanes, my vision swims, and my flight is unstable.
I can’t pass out here. It’s not safe.
I focus on my wing beats, praying I don’t fall from the sky.
