The Assassin Princess (The Legacy Novels Book 1) by Blake Rivers Page A

though it was slipping fast from her memory. She chased it, almost caught it—but her eyes went to the trees. Someone watching, she was sure, someone was watching—but then Adam reached for her and placed his hand on hers. She shuddered as his power passed into her again, and all other thoughts left her.
    “I have much to teach,” Adam said, his eyes flaring green and wide, “and so it’s now time to move from the mind.”
    He struck her forehead. “Wake!”
    The tall columns and arches behind them, the bright blue sky, the green grass, splattered with deep red blood, all faded as Ami began to fall.

Chapter Eight
     
     
    Hero ran through the chamber, his eyes touching the darkness in search of Adam, seeing no one; only the girl who lay upon the floor, shielded by his men. Raven rose as he approached, allowing Hero a space at Ami’s side.
    Her colour had paled. Her skin was clammy. “Ami, can you hear me?”
    “Hero, what was outside? What did you find?” Kane touched his shoulder briefly, looking to his eyes. “Adam’s up there, isn’t he?”
    A clap of thunder shuddered through the earthly walls, waking Ami. Her eyes darted in all directions, finding each of them in turn. Her lips formed words without a voice and she tried to sit, mumbling something incoherent.
    Kane held her shoulders and lowered her down. “Relax, Princess, it’s okay.”
    “Let me up,” she croaked, licking her lips, pushing Kane from her.
    “Princess, I’m only trying to—”
    Hero silenced Kane with his hand. “Listen.”
    A deep groan sounded from above them, a creaking in the shadowed rafters. The noise of the wind and rain had fallen, the storm forgotten. Dust fell from shadow, a grey mist that smothered the light, gathered and filled the chamber; eternal flames extinguished.
    “Hero, what is this?” Raven whispered, disappearing from view beneath the cloud, but Hero didn’t answer—he didn’t know.
    He shivered, his body caressed by icy fingers in the mist. Silence fell. He could see nothing—could hear nothing—but his own shuffling footfalls; he called out but his voice was thin, too thin and muffled.
    A whisper cut through the quiet. “Don’t come near me.”
    Hero’s heart hammered in his chest as he spun round, his arms flailing. He felt the panic rise up within him, a snake uncoiling and stretching, reaching, wanting to break free from his body—but he wouldn’t let it—and instead stopped dead and closed his eyes. His hands fell to his sides as he concentrated on breathing only. His chest rose and fell, yet in place of the panic, he felt something more. A feeling of moving, of growing power in the pit of his stomach.
    …do not attempt to keep Ami with this power. Remember, you must lose her. It’s the only way.
    Voices rose from everywhere in the dark, echoing and overlapping, suddenly too loud and too confusing.
    “Be still,” Hero shouted. Then the silence, terrifying and empty.
    A whoosh ignited the air with green flame, the very mist burning in Hero’s eyes. He threw himself back against the wall, the chamber a furnace—but for an instant—till the flame pulled back and centred upon one point. The air was clear, the fort now a flickering cave, lit by a column of flame, the wick of a human torch.
    He saw her behind the flames as they danced high to the beams above, swallowing her as she walked up the aisle. “Oh my—Ami!”
    All three Guards moved forward, but Ami’s hand raised, releasing a jet of curling jade flame. It flew at each of them, whipping like a tail, sending them into the far wall beyond the altar.
    Hero pulled himself up, feeling a power gather in his hands in response—but couldn’t use it, knew he mustn’t use it—how could he trust it? Ami turned back to the aisle and walked unhindered through the chamber.
    Remember, you must lose her.
    Another fire rose at the stairwell, copper-green and wild, the flames shooting forward in a fork, catching the pews and burning fast