The Fifth Moon's Assassin (The Fifth Moon's Tales Book 5)

by Monica La Porta

  “Anything for you, my friend,” Valentine said.

  “Do you remember what happened?” Gabriel asked.

  Dragon nodded. “We were attacked.” He looked around. “Here.” Little by little, his memories were coming back. “The poison on that arrow was strong.”

  “You were hit seven times. It’s only thanks to Gabriel who sucked as much poison as he could from your wounds that you are awake now. With that amount of toxins in your system, your dragon couldn’t have healed you in less than a month,” Valentine said. “It was pure madness how it all went down.”

  Like a flood, the dam of Dragon’s recollections broke free, filling him with the missing images and sounds. The lady’s maids’ words came back to him, as did the house manager’s unfinished statement. “What happened to the girls and Crane?”

  Valentine answered, “The girls didn’t make it. Crane was transported to Celestia City and is still in critical condition.”

  “Where is Valerian?” Dragon asked.

  “I’m here,” Valerian answered.

  Following the sound of his friend’s voice, Dragon turned his head to the side and saw him. Valerian stood several steps behind Valentine, his face a stonier mask than usual.

  “You don’t seem happy to see me,” Dragon said to Valerian.

  “I’m glad you made it.” His lieutenant tilted his head.

  Unspoken words resonated in the air, prickling Dragon’s senses. “Did you talk to Gilda?” He directed his question toward Valentine and Gabriel.

  “Gilda has nothing to do with all of this.” Valerian’s words were clipped and a vein pulsed on his jaw.

  “We talked to the princess,” Valentine answered. “She denied everything.”

  “And the people who accused her are either dead or can’t speak.” Gabriel stretched his neck, slowly lowering his head to each shoulder. “We’ve relocated Gilda inside the manor, in one of the internal wings with working doors and solid walls.”

  “They are treating her like a criminal.” Valerian’s chest rose and fell as his hand rested on the pommel of his katana.

  “We’re making sure she is safe,” Gabriel said. “Several of my guards watch over her, and the place is checked three times a day for listening devices. In fact, this basement and Gilda’s quarters are the only places where we know we can talk freely.”

  “They refuse to let me see her,” Valerian insisted.

  Gabriel turned to Dragon. “We were waiting for you to wake before making a decision. We have much to talk about.” He grabbed the pile of clothes sitting on the low table beside his chair and brought them to Dragon. “Maybe you could eat as we bring you up to speed.”

  “Thank you.” With slow gestures, Dragon pulled a tunic down over his head, then sat cross-legged and ate the food that Valentine offered him.

  “As you can see from the noticeable lack of servants—” Gabriel made a sweeping gesture encompassing the entirety of the cavernous chamber. “We now officially treat everyone as a suspect because the attackers had help from the inside.”

  Dragon had surmised as much. Vampires liked to be pampered, and House Martelli’s retinue numbered in the hundreds. Finding a disloyal employee among that crowd would be difficult if not impossible.

  “We are spreading false intel throughout the house to see where the leak is,” Gabriel said. “I still can’t believe that someone from my household has been plotting against me for months.”

  “It’s not just your people,” Dragon started. “If I hadn’t come—”

  Valentine shook his head. “It would’ve happened anyway.”

  “He’s right.” Gabriel gave Dragon a sad smile. “We just made it convenient for the terrorists by convening all in the same place.”

  “Although with our move, we might have forced their hand.” Valentine cut a chunk from the big roast and refilled Dragon’s empty plate. “They probably had to act earlier than planned.”

  “That’s probably the reason they failed twice already to kill us. Both the fire and the archers’ attack weren’t carried out by professionals. The arrows that hit you—” Gabriel pointed his chin at Dragon “—weren’t assassin’s grade. The manufacture was similar, but not quite the same. We had an alchemist analyze the poison on the shafts. He determined it was made locally, with ingredients that can be easily found on Celestia.” He scoffed. “Hell, half of the herbs used grow in my internal garden.”

  “It could all turn out in our favor.” The tiniest flicker of hope ignited in Dragon’s chest. “They didn’t have time to organize properly and are acting impulsively.”

  “And they’ve been trying to stop you from talking to the Academy ever since you received the summons,” Valentine said.

  “I wonder why.” Dragon cleaned the plate and drank from the goblet Gabriel passed him.

  “Someone doesn’t want you to reach out to the Academy,” Valentine commented.

  “That’s an understatement if there ever was one.” Dragon unfurled from his position and stood. The room spun around him for a moment, but he soon felt whole again. “Time to talk to Gilda,” he said, nodding for Valerian to follow him.

  29

  Humid, hot, salty air filled Jade’s nostrils and bathed her exposed skin, plastering her short hair against her cheek. She had regained consciousness to the familiar sound of dripping water and immediately felt Maarlo’s presence looming nearby. A loose tunic covered her, and for that small favor, she was grateful.

  For days—or weeks, Jade couldn’t know—she had slipped in and out of a hallucinatory state that was drug-induced. Every time she woke long enough to gather her bearings, her kidnapper injected her with a mind-altering substance that scrambled her brain until she thought she heard colors and tasted sounds.

  “Open your eyes,” he commanded. “I know you are awake.” A hard shove to her side followed his words when she didn’t comply.

  Before he could hit her again, Jade obeyed. The sight before her confirmed what she already knew. They had finally arrived at their destination, and she was in her cell at the Academy, on Celestia. The grated window that opened on the narrower side of the small room let in the last rays of Coral. Lowering her tunic to cover her thighs, she pushed herself up from her cot and, ignoring Maarlo, walked the few steps to the stone-carved basin. The faucet had been leaking for years, but she never asked for it to be repaired because the sound soothed her. After an intense sparring session, she would lie on her bed, listening to the drops hitting the stone until her mind became a blank canvas.

  With her hands cupped, she leaned and drank a few gulps of fresh water to wash the grime in her mouth.

  “What now?” she asked when she was done, deigning to finally look at Maarlo.

  He leaned against the door, his arms crossed over his chest. “You cooperate.” Maarlo’s cold eyes pierced her. The man could terrify her with a single glance because there was no humanity left in him.

  As she had done many times in the past, she faked a calm she didn’t feel. “Or?”

  With a bored expression, he said, “You’ll sleep through the rest of your pregnancy.”

  Jade turned and forced herself not to touch her belly that felt rounder and heavier than it had before her kidnapping. Instinctively, her hands had shot downward, but she redirected them to the faucet and splashed her face, as if that had been her intention all along.

  “Break’s over.” Maarlo grabbed her elbow, applying enough strength to hurt her but not to break bones.

  “Where to?” Jade asked, her voice firm as sharp pain shot up her arm.

  “You’ll know soon enough.” Maarlo dragged her outside into the dormitory’s hallway and led her toward the infirmary, where he pushed her into the white room. “Whatever you’re plotting to do, don’t,” he warned, releasing her into the hands of a tall medicus. “Rasmud, she’s all yours.”

  “You’ll be good, yes?” The medicus waved a syringe in front of her.

  His strong accent betrayed him as a Lupinian
, while his olive complexion now unnaturally pale indicated that he had spent time in space. Jade assumed he had been hired as soon as the Academy learned of her state. The voyage from Lupine took approximately two months, the same amount of time a light freighter would take to travel from the Outer Belts to Celestia.

  “How was the flight?” Jade asked, relaxing both her expression and her stance to appear non-threatening.

  It worked because the medicus gave Maarlo a reassuring nod. “I can take it from here.”

  “Don’t think so.” Maarlo erupted in a loud laughter. “You have no idea what she’s capable of.”

  “Thank you.” Jade brought her hand to her chest and tilted her head, batting her lashes.

  Giving Jade a better look, the medicus seemed to reevaluate the situation for a moment, then nodded at Maarlo. “You stay.”

  “I wasn’t going anywhere.” Maarlo strolled to the opposite corner where he took possession of a metal chair and straddled it, leaning his arms on its back. “Please, continue.”

  Rasmud warily approached Jade, but she raised her hands in a sign of peace. She knew better than to antagonize Maarlo before she had a clear plan sketched in her head. Under the vigilant gaze of the assassin, the medicus subjected Jade to a thorough physical before drawing numerous vials of blood. Two long hours passed before the man announced that he was done for the day.

  Maarlo escorted her back to her cell and left her there.

  Alone, tired, and famished, Jade sank on her haunches and leaned against the door. Food arrived a short while later, brought by Marika, a new recruit and one of the pupils in Jade’s javelin class.

  “Your dinner,” the girl said, smashing the tray on the small desk nested under the window.

  Jade engaged in a staring contest with her subordinate, but Marika refused to look down. Instead, the girl’s expression showed resentment, her body language defiant as she turned and left. Jade remembered the look of awe in the recruit’s eyes the morning Marika had entered her class and discovered that a Master Assassin would be teaching her.

  “Traitors should be hanged,” the girl murmured to someone outside before slamming the door shut behind her.

  “Do not question the Academy’s wisdom,” a man answered. His voice held a mature timbre, but Jade couldn’t recognize the elder who spoke. She didn’t have to guess for long because the door opened again a moment later.

  Her mouth dropped at the sight of the man entering her cell. “Master Eon,” she said, standing straight before the Academy’s most venerable member, the Head Master himself.

  Tall and sinewy, the older assassin rarely left his quarters and would only talk to the Academy’s disciples at communal gatherings. As far as she could remember, the Head Master never engaged in one-on-ones. Only once, when she earned her final tattoo around her eye, Master Eon publicly mentioned her name during an assembly to congratulate her.

  The man exuded raw strength with his controlled movements, and his unwavering gaze trained on her as he stepped inside.

  “Assassin,” Master Eon said, making her flinch.

  With one single word, he had just divested Jade of her status, wiping away a lifetime of dedication to the Academy as if all the blood and sweat counted for nothing.

  It pained her deeply.

  It stripped Jade of her identity. She was nothing outside of the Academy.

  On the tail of her last thought, the image of a child filled her mind’s eye, unbidden. Past-Jade had found a different path in life and thrown her in the midst of this mess without warning.

  “Did your last target father your unborn child?” Master Eon asked, startling her.

  For the second time, Jade stared at the man, shock rendering her mute. Briefly before Maarlo derailed her life, she had thought about Dragon Sol being the father of her child, but there hadn’t been any time to delve into it. Hearing the words out loud felt like a punch to her stomach.

  “Answer my question, assassin.” The Venerable’s voice rumbled low in the room. “Is the man whose life you spared the father of your child?”

  “I don’t know,” Jade said a moment later. She knew, though. Now that she thought about it, there was no other explanation for her pregnancy.

  “Vivaldi said you requested an erasion.” Master Eon was playing with her, testing her loyalty.

  Maarlo had certainly extracted all the truth from the medicus, and there was little she could add. Depending on what Vivaldi had confessed under duress, there was the possibility that the man in front of Jade knew more about her than she did.

  “I did,” she answered.

  “Why?”

  Jade maintained her straight stance, but inside, she was trembling. “I don’t know.”

  “You are lucky,” Master Eon said. “Under any other circumstance, you would be facing the torturers in the square. But we have already been contacted by a buyer for your hybrid spawn.”

  The man’s statement struck Jade like a sledgehammer to the chest, stopping her heart. She stepped back, hitting the wall behind her. Had she blinked, she would have missed Master Eon’s satisfied smile.

  “I expect you to report to me if any of your memories come back.” He gave her one last stare before turning. Over his shoulder, he threw, “You will spend the rest of your life breeding for the Academy.”

  30

  “Hi, Gilda,” Dragon said, entering a well-lit room that was guarded by several of Gabriel’s personal guards.

  Raising her head from the book she was reading, the princess gave him a small smile. “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better—” Her greeting was cut short when Valerian followed Dragon into the room. Her subdued expression changed immediately into hopeful.

  Valerian strode toward her. “Are they treating you well?” he asked, taking her in his arms.

  “I’m fine.” She rested her head against Valerian’s chest.

  Dragon hated to intrude on the moment and cleared his throat, reminding his lieutenant that he wasn’t alone. Valerian hugged the princess firmly before turning his attention to Dragon, who nodded at him.

  “Gilda, this isn’t easy for any of us, but here it goes. Are you with the rebels?” Dragon walked closer to the couple. “And before Valerian says or does something he’s going to regret, I want you to know that if you are working with the Front Pro Humanity and come clean now, I’ll make sure your life is spared.”

  Valerian made to move, but Gilda placed a hand on his arm. “I am not,” she said, her voice clear as she looked at Dragon.

  “She’s innocent.” Valerian stepped before Dragon. “I vouch for her.” Desperation radiated from his friend.

  Dragon knew the turmoil and anguish that governed Valerian’s actions because he had loved Jade even when he knew she would kill him in his sleep. He better than most understood that rational thinking didn’t apply to the affairs of the heart. Only blind faith worked.

  “I believe you,” Dragon said to Gilda.

  The princess’ eyes widened in surprise as she sagged against Valerian. At the same time, his friend released a long breath and what sounded much like a curse.

  “Thank you,” Gilda said a moment later, wiping a tear.

  “You’ll remain confined to these quarters until we find out what happened to Lauren.” Dragon smiled at her. “It’s safer for you and advantageous for us that our enemy believes we think you are responsible for the attack.” He then turned toward Valerian. “I’m afraid you can’t see her again, and don’t try to contact her in any way. We don’t know who our enemies are and must play this charade to its very end if we want to fool the rebels.”

  “I understand.” Valerian dropped a chaste kiss on her head. “It’ll be over soon,” he whispered to her.

  Dragon turned and walked to the door to give them a final moment of privacy.

  A few seconds later, Valerian’s hand closed around Dragon’s arm. “Thank you,” he said.

  There was much meaning behind those two words, and Dragon acknowledged them
by laying his hand on top of Valerian’s and squeezing it.

  They left Gilda’s quarters and separated. Valerian stormed off, giving the appearance that he just had a row with his High Lord. Dragon went back to the basement where Valentine and Gabriel were waiting for him.

  “The Academy sent word through Laonte,” Gabriel said as soon as Dragon descended the stairs. He tilted his chin over his shoulder, drawing Dragon’s attention to the third man in the room. “Tell him what they want.”

  Laonte detached himself from the column he leaned against. “We’ll travel at first light, alone. I’ll leave you at the Academy’s doorstep.”

  “And in the meantime, we have received the reminder of our summoning as well,” Valentine said, opening before him a folded piece of paper. “Do you recognize the handwriting?”

  Dragon took the note and scanned the text.

  Do as they say or I’ll die. A shaky hand had scattered the letters across the paper before signing the note as Lauren.

  “It looks like her penmanship,” Dragon said. “I have exchanged letters with the princesses on occasion, but you’ll have to confirm with Gilda. She’ll know for sure.”

  “How did it go with Gilda?” Gabriel asked after releasing Laonte, who promptly stepped out.

  “My lieutenant gives his word she isn’t guilty, and I trust him with my life.” Dragon dropped onto the closest sofa, letting the note fall to the cushion. “Plus, my dragon senses didn’t go off when she looked straight in my eyes and said she wasn’t a rebel.” He suddenly felt tired. “She’s being framed.”

  “We thought so, too,” Valentine said.

  They spent the rest of the day plotting their offensive against the rebels.

  After yet another fitful night, Dragon briefly met with Valerian to inform him that he would follow Gabriel. The rehearsed words were spoken loudly enough that the group of servants lingering nearby wouldn’t have any problem hearing them. Valerian complained convincingly and left to resume his patrol duty as Dragon prepared for the day.