Home > The Queen's Assassin (Queen's Secret #1)(29)

The Queen's Assassin (Queen's Secret #1)(29)
Author: Melissa de la Cruz

   Shadow falls limp, still whispering, and the guard strikes, but Cal disarms him so fast that the blade merely grazes her skin. Before the guard can react, Cal has turned the blade on him. But just as Cal begins his fatal strike, Shadow stays his hand.

   Cal stops, confused.

   “Don’t,” she says, and he knows she has seen him deal too much death this evening.

   It is what I do, he wants to tell her. I am the Queen’s Assassin. There is so much blood on his hands he is surprised they are not always red and dripping. He is the queen’s will, the throne’s hangman, protector of the crown of Renovia. He sends men and women to death before they even know their lives are in danger.

   But the owls are taking care of it for now—a great horde of them is clawing at each man. There’s a rumble of creatures prowling through leaves and branches coming toward them. This time it’s Shadow who pulls Cal into the brush, and they hide just as a pack of snarling nightwolves bursts out of the trees onto the path, only the silver glint of their eyes visible in the darkness. Their hunger is ferocious and tangible. The guards’ screams echo through the woods as they run and the wolves give chase.

   “You called them,” he says, catching his breath. “The owls and the wolves.”

   Shadow shrugs. “I was trying to finish the spell, and you almost got in the way.”

   “You’re a mage.” He can barely keep the awe out of his voice.

   “My aunts are. They taught me a little.”

   Someone else runs down the path. A kid. Looks like a kitchen hand. “Jander,” Shadow whispers. The boy turns his head and looks directly at them. Then runs away quickly.

   Another guard follows behind, grabs the boy by his shoulders. “Where’d they go?” he demands.

   Jander shrugs.

   The man curses. He shakes the boy. “Well, don’t stand there. Find them!”

   The boy nods and motions excitedly to the path. He points. The guard looks that way. “What is it?” the man asks. “You see them?”

   Jander nods again and points the other way, away from where Shadow and Cal are hiding.

   The guard shoves him in the back. “What are you waiting for? Go!”

   Jander begins running away on the path, kicking up dirt all around him. The guard mounts one of the remaining horses and clops away after him. Cal and Shadow wait to be sure all is clear. In the distance they can hear the sounds of men shouting, horses whinnying, a cacophony of hooting and snarling.

   “You know that boy?” Cal asks Shadow when he’s sure there’s no one nearby.

   “Yes . . . but . . .” She looks off in the direction the boy fled. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.” They are quiet again, unsure if they should leave their hiding spot yet.

   “We should go before the guards return,” he says.

   “About the guards. I was trying to tell you earlier. They’re not from Deersia. They’re Aphrasians.”

   Cal’s heart drops into his stomach. Of course. He should have noticed it sooner.

   “I realized it when one of them blocked my magic. He had some kind of armor on his chest. A small piece but it was enough to reflect it back to me. That’s what knocked me out.”

   “Are you certain?”

   She narrows her eyes. “Yes, I’m certain. I could feel it. And I don’t think they were taking us back to the prison. Look how far west we are.”

   She was right; if they were being brought to Deersia, they would’ve been back by now. They hadn’t gotten far. But he’d been so occupied with escaping that he didn’t realize they were headed elsewhere. “I’ve never heard of anything like that before. A magic repellant.”

   “I know that’s what happened.” She sighs and rolls her eyes.

   “Not saying I don’t believe you,” he says, noting just how quickly she grows defensive. “Good thing I was here, then,” he says with a grin. “To help you out when your magic couldn’t.”

   Instantly, he knows he should’ve kept his mouth shut.

   She shakes her head, lips curled in disgust. “You know . . . ,” she begins scolding him. But she quits speaking and abruptly puts a finger to her lips. He nods.

   Hooves are clopping down the path.

   But when the horses finally come into view, they are riderless. Standing before them are the two steeds they took from the prison stable.

   “I wasn’t sure they got the message through all the noise,” she says.

   Cal is impressed. Shadow just might end up being useful to him after all. They each pick up a sword from the ground and mount the horses. He still hears noises in the distance, but less screaming. Did the wolves finish off their captors? He hopes so. “We’ll take the south road,” he says.

   Shadow pulls her horse in front of his. “Yes. But when we come to the descent, stay alert. You might need to ‘help me out’ again,” she says, her voice thick with sarcasm.

   “That’s not what I meant . . . ,” he begins to say. But he supposes that is exactly what he meant. He considers trying to explain, but it doesn’t matter, as he’s speaking to her back.

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

 

 

Shadow

 


AFTER EVERYTHING I’VE DONE FOR him—the risks I’ve taken—and he acts like he’s the one coming to my rescue. He’d still be sitting in that cell—or dead—if it wasn’t for me.

   What an arrogant lout Caledon Holt, Great Master Assassin of Renovia, has turned out to be. I’m almost tempted to go back to my aunts’ farm and then on to the palace, where at least I can live out my days in comfort and warmth. But I can’t even pretend to want that. If I’m being honest, that’s still less appealing than sticking out the journey ahead with my knight in shining armor, Sir Full of Himself.

   So what if he saved my life a few dozen times this evening?

   The man is a terror with a sword. It’s clear he could have escaped Deersia anytime he wanted, so why didn’t he? Was he truly waiting for the queen to send for him?

   We don’t speak the entire way down the mountain path. Besides, we have to focus on managing the horses’ steps. I’m just glad we’re taking the road down and not the reverse. Going up to Deersia under these conditions would be even more daunting. And exhausting.

   We’re both relieved when we make it to the foot of the mountain, and so are the horses. I can feel the tension leaving my horse for now—as I rub his head. “Good boy. Good job.”

   “I have to apologize,” Caledon says finally. “I was skeptical at first but now I see why Queen Lilianna sent you for this.”

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