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

through them. A dark-clad man walked from the fire, a ghost glimmering green. He held his arms out to Ami’s approach.
    “Princess Ami, no!” Raven called, standing up beside him. “Hero, Adam’s going to take her!”
    Hero’s eyes widened on Ami as her clothes burned from her, the flames knitting new garments across her naked body—a black dress and boots, her hair full, her skin marble white and radiant.
    She reached Adam’s embrace and her arm snuck around his back.
    What had he done? Any hope for Legacy was now dead, and the city would fall. He had not protected her. He’d failed.
    No.
    Hero filled with rage, the power within him solidifying, ready for release. He drew his sword and ran toward her, calling a battle cry as he jumped the altar rail, raising the blade above his head. The steel vibrated with a new purpose, his skin throbbing with a heat he’d never felt before. He caught a glimpse of purple light behind his eyes, a flash, just before a bolt of green fire hit him in the chest.
    He landed in the burning pews and rolled to the floor, smouldering wood falling upon him. His robes burned, and through blurred sight and emerald flame, he saw Adam raise his sword and slice it through the air.
    A moment later they’d gone, leaving only a burning room, disappearing under a smog of choking smoke.
    He lay his head down and let the darkness take him.
     
    *
     
    “Bring her back to Legacy, please Hero, my most trusted and loyal, Hero. Find a way to destroy him, even if it leads you to the Mortrus Lands, do it!”
    Hero knelt in front of the bed, looking toward the candle, the small flame swaying, reflecting against the glass. It was evening, and the sun was already setting, the twilight looking eerie, otherworldly, and lonely.
    Today was historic, the day that Legacy would be changed forever. An heir had been found after thirty years, and it was Hero’s task to bring her back to the home she belonged to. Today, life would change for every man, woman, and child—but only if Adam didn’t find her first. If he did? Then hope would be lost forever.
    People could wait for a miracle, he thought, and however bad the last thirty years had been, the people of Legacy had never given up hope that an heir would eventually come; but if Hero failed and the heir was lost to the twisted son of Graeme? There would no longer be hope, and there would be no miracle, and everything would burn.
    Turning from the window, Hero stared into the fire, burning high in front of him.
    The girl spoke from behind the flame. “Don’t lose hope, Hero, don’t lose—” The flames lowered and Ami’s face appeared, stark white, her mouth slack, wide, screaming; her hair was on fire, eyes pleading.
    Hero turned and shielded his face with the book.
    “But what are the Mortrus Lands?” he asked, lowering it and replacing the fallen page he’d just read. He gave it over to Lady Grace, who stood upon the step and placed the book on the shelf.
    “A myth,” she said, looking him up and down, apparently satisfied with what she saw. “I guess you wouldn’t be interested in such things.”
    “Oh, I am though, I mean—the poem I read is a warning, isn’t it?”
    Lady Grace perched on the table, a pile of leather bound books next to her that Hero had been sorting through. He’d volunteered to help the Lady of Legacy with cataloguing the castle’s library, and as a newly initiated member of the Guard, he was duty-bound to serve the Lady of Legacy, if he could.
    There were tales spanning hundreds of years on each shelf, told from father to son, and mother to daughter, written down and stored by the Lords of Legacy. There were histories of families, fictions galore, maps and diaries—too much to ever read through in one lifetime.
    “Yes, it is,” she said. “It’s a warning to any looking to enter the Mortrus Lands.” She paused. Hero waited patiently for her to continue. “The Mortrus Lands are an impenetrable forest, a wooded land to