Cloak of Darkness (The Destroyer-Blessed Saga Book 1) Page 5

  No army had advanced more than a few feet for the past six months on any of the numerous battlefields. Rebel groups were having an easier time finding members to join in their cause in overthrowing the six monarchies involved in the war. And citizens were swarming King Peter’s lands by the hundreds in search of peace and neutrality.

  Finding a menace that had traveled the continent, bringing chaos and death everywhere they went, would be a small triumph in a time of constant loss. Imprisoning the one person who had wrecked entire armories and killed dozens of people in each kingdom would be an easy show of power.

  Unfortunately for the kingdoms, finding and capturing someone that no one knew anything about was easier said than done. Especially when that someone was an unsuspected seventeen-year-old girl trained by the Kingdom Rogues.

  Red thought back to her time in the Craelon prisons and realized that a kingdom had completed what most thought of as the impossible. Their only problem was the fact that the Craelon soldiers had not even considered that a young girl could be the most dangerous assassin they would ever meet. Most people never thought much of Red.

  Everyone except Arthur Welin.

  Arthur might have been a cruel and tough man, but he had been everything that Red needed when she showed up to the Rogue Manor—a scared child looking for sanctuary. He was the only person that could easily see past her innocent demeanor. He had seen her true potential.

  Arthur did not bat an eye when Red could speak the native tongues of all seven kingdoms. He never looked up from his work when she successfully took down opponents that should have killed her with one blow. He only ever showed the slightest mark of approval when Red made her various potions that put professional potions masters to shame.

  Arthur Welin knew what made Red special before she could walk through the manor’s doors.

  “Magic,” he had whispered when he would intently watch Red’s potions glow. He was immensely impressed with her Maker-Blessed powers, but he was even more intrigued by the darkness that rivaled the Maker’s light.

  He only ever smiled when she came to him after accidentally blowing up a vase or picture when she lost control of the darkness that was always searching for a way to escape her grasp.

  Pleasing Arthur was everything Red had ever wanted because he was the first person who had truly accepted her. All of her. Red’s magic had caught Arthur’s attention, but her hard work received his small praises. And with a life debt still hanging over her head, pleasing Arthur Welin was all Red hoped to do.

  Five months of endless missions saw to that. One name and location appeared at a time, and Red was finally closing in on her last few victims. But with the guards lurking around every corner, Red’s job had become so much harder.

  Three more names. That was all Red needed. Three more deaths and she would be welcomed back to her life at the manor. Red loved the minor freedom that she had, but she was tired of trekking across Cathal—tired of being indebted to her mentor.

  Every name brought Red one step closer to paying back that debt.

  And severing Estra Ayrith’s head from her body was just another step.

  Chapter 3

  “She still hasn't made the kill,” the Kingdom Rogue sentry gaped. “Why hasn't she made the kill yet?”

  Dranac Gnorw, the leader of the Kingdom Rogue scouts, had been asking the same question for the past three weeks while observing Red in the city.

  Dranac had been assigned by Arthur himself to watch over Red as she went through his list of people who were a danger to the Kingdom Rogues’ cause. It was an honor. But living in crappy tavern rooms for five months made him wish that he could personally hunt down the rest of the people on the list.

  A cool breeze swept through the rooftops, ruffling Dranac’s shoulder length blond hair. His hazel eyes shone in the light of the full moon, his gaze lingering on the shadow of the figure curled up in the abandoned wine crate.

  He knew that Red was aware that they were watching her. But Dranac Gnorw still wondered why she was taking so long with this particular victim.

  “Maybe she hasn't found the right time to do it yet. The old hag could be better protected than we think,” Dranac replied. His tone was hard to keep the trainee from making a snarky comment. “There is always a perfect time and place to cut the tie to someone’s life magic. Be patient.”

  Dranac Gnorw looked back down at the box, trying to picture the sleeping figure inside. “Red is the best we’ve got,” he commented dryly. “I wouldn't be surprised if she wanted to put on a bit of a show for us.”

  “She might be the best potions master, but she can still be replaced like everyone else. There's no need for Arthur to have favorites. Especially when that favorite gets captured easily because of a stupid mistake,” the younger boy retorted.

  Dranac Gnorw focused his red-hot vision on the box to keep himself from strangling the boy. He watched the darkness until his breathing slowed and his heartbeat calmed. His fists remained clenched, though, when he spat, “Disrespect her again and I'll throw you from the rooftop. She has more skill in her left pinky than you will ever retain in your entire body. She will not fail.”

  His words were convincing enough. The threat behind them was a promise that could easily become true. But Dranac’s thoughts strayed. The worry that Red might fail made his stomach turn. The thought of what would happen to her if she did fail was enough to make his head spin.

  “I hope you're right,” the boy commented, pulling Dranac away from the horrors in his thoughts. “Cause I'd hate to have to break it to Arthur that I killed his favorite assassin.”

  Dranac prayed to the Maker that Red would not fail. Death would be a merciful punishment if she did. One that she would not likely receive.

  “She will. If only for your sake,” Dranac Gnorw whispered, his fist clenching around the back of the trainee’s shirt so he could talk directly to him. “Because if you kill her, I'll gut you with a butter knife.”

  Dranac abruptly released the boy’s shirt, leaving the boy to teeter on the edge of the roof. “If I were you, though,” he chuckled, “I'd be more worried that I might tell her of the excitement in your voice when you mentioned killing her. I still might.”

  Dranac stepped back, allowing the trainee to fully regain his balance before he tumbled onto the cobblestone street below. The boy glared at him, but his anger faded into terror as Dranac added, a devious smile lighting up his face, “Because I would get to hold you down while she pummeled you into oblivion.”

  ~~~

  Red scaled the side of a red brick apartment building in the light of the risen moon. She knew her time was limited. The Kingdom Rogue scouts were not likely to wait for her to make her move against Estra Ayrith for much longer. Soon she would be confronted on why she had not made the final blow to Estra’s life magic after spending several weeks in Peragon. They would question her motivations, and her excuses would not be taken seriously.

  Her questions on why Estra Ayrith was dangerous would have Arthur Welin sending her straight to the nearest asylum. And her excuse that she did not want to kill the sweet old woman would grant her a one-way ticket to the Destroyer’s layer.

  Red grabbed for a nearby windowsill, but the mortar had cracked long ago, the brick pulling away from the building. She scrambled for purchase, but her feet scraped against the wall, unable to find traction. Her fingers lost their grip and her body slammed into the cold iron of a lower balcony railing.

  The wind rushed from Red’s lungs as her stomach caught onto the solid metal. Her feet frantically kicked to find anything to balance herself on. Her knees hooked onto the crossbar of the railing, most of her strength pouring into her arms to hoist herself over the rail and onto the landing.

  Red’s entire body barked in protest as she clung to the railing. Her mind fought against her mouth to keep herself from cursing out in pain. The last thing she needed was for the owner of that balcony to wake up and catch her slung across the railing like an inexperie
nced robber.

  Red could feel a slight tingle begin to spread through her fingers as her dark magic readied to protect its vessel, but she pulled herself onto the sturdy balcony before it could spread any further. She silently slumped to the ground, a quiet string of curses that would make a sailor blush spewing from her tongue.

  Red looked down to make sure that the night beggars were still focused on fighting over the chicken leg that she had tossed their way before scaling the building. Thankfully, they were too busy trying to tear each other's arms off to notice her slip-up.

  Red stood, shaking out her muscles as she prepared herself to continue climbing. When she began to make her way back up the building, her body shook with a new surge of adrenaline to keep her moving.

  The city was peacefully asleep, unaware that their menace was perched right above their heads. The early morning air was cool and welcoming. But the knowledge that she was not there to sightsee tarnished the beauty of the city before her.

  Countless attempts to find any information on Estra Ayrith’s late night whereabouts had always turned up useless. The woman did not stay in her boutique, despite the treasures that were left behind every night. And she did not have a home or favorite gutter to sleep in.

  She also had no friends to speak of.

  Those who did know her knew even less than Red, and she knew almost nothing. And with the relentless searches from the guards, Red would have a much harder time killing Estra in the treacherous hours of the day.

  Red was perplexed at how difficult it had actually been to kill the old hag. But nothing boggled Red’s mind more than when she considered what the older woman had done to get herself on Arthur Welin’s kill list.

  Most had been criminals, known throughout Cathal for their nefarious affairs. Dealing out the deadly fate of the corrupt politicians and the barbaric sadists was easy. Dealing out that same fate to a seemingly harmless old woman was not something that was usually on Red’s personal to-do list.

  The thoughts of what Estra Ayrith had or had not done to Arthur Welin filtered through Red’s head as the sun began to rise behind her. Lit by the pale moon, the city was dazzling, but the early rays of the burning sun turned the sparkling jewel of Airaldan into a breathtaking work of art.

  It was a view that Red placed into the far reaches of her mind. Tucked away tightly so that the memories that would come from her hunt would not tarnish the last bit of beauty that she had found in all of Cathal.

  ~~~

  Estra Ayrith waited.

  Her bones ached from the lack of rest. Her stiff feet and legs were barely able to support her own weight. Her eyes fell into and out of focus as her eyelids drooped and snapped open at every passing minute.

  Sleep would not come to her until her final rest. When that rest would come, she had no idea.

  “Dammit girl!” she cursed into the silence of the empty warehouse—her current sleeping quarters. “Can't you just give an old woman what she wants and let her die already?”

  Three weeks had passed, and Red had still not made her final move. The agony of waiting for her own death almost made Estra poison herself just to end things.

  Almost.

  But it was not enough to keep her from moving to new locations to sleep every night for the past three weeks. If the girl was going to drag out her death, she might as well test her assailant’s abilities. There was no reason not to have a little fun while she danced with the Destroyer.

  A tiring dance indeed, Estra Ayrith thought as she made her way out of the warehouse and into the shadowy streets. Taverns still swarmed with their usual bums, but their gaudy tunes put a light smile on Estra’s face and a new skip in her hobbling step.

  As she made her way toward her little potions shop, the sun had begun its rise over the jeweled city. The glittering castle stood watch over its awakening citizens.

  The tinkling ring of shop bells created a sweet melody that matched the tune of the mourning doves. The enticing smell of treats from the many bakeries wafted through the stirring alleyways. The shopkeepers welcomed each other into the new day, wishing each other good sales. Their fingers were crossed behind their backs to keep any bad wishes away from themselves.

  Estra basked in the bustle of the early morning preparations, her heart singing to the music of the city. A flash of crimson sweeping across the side of her vision before disappearing into an alley made her jump, her merry tune halting in its tracks. But Estra’s eyes caught onto the baker’s scarlet apron. And the cruel crimson awnings from the butcher’s shop.

  Everything else was bland in comparison to the red drapery in the boutiques and the apple crests mounted on every door frame and window. Every other color was nothing more than a neutral patch that took up the spaces that the red could not fill. It had become the only color that caught Estra’s attention anymore.

  But nothing compared to the tattered cloak that flashed in and out of Estra’s vision. Her light steps picked up speed as she prepared to witness her last moments close in around her.

  Time was not fast enough. Seconds stretched into minutes that felt like lifetimes were passing. Every inch the sun rose was another eternal second.

  Estra Ayrith’s patience was running thin by the time she made it to her little shop. Her mind wandered through the possibilities of what would make up her final moments. Her heart ached at the thought of being forced to leave her life behind. Her preparations for that very day turned into useless plans that no longer suited her.

  A life of running and hiding, and she would have to hide no longer. After always looking over her shoulder, she would not have to turn her head again. A life of trying to forget her past, and she would soon be able to finally forgive and forget what she had done.

  Extra time on the earth could not make up what she had lost. But Estra Ayrith had no regrets as she waited for her fate to be dealt out by the hands of someone she had learned to trust. Her worries about the Kingdom Rogues would never bother her conscious again.

  Her fate was determined. Whether it was determined by the Maker herself or by the master of the Kingdom Rogues did not matter. Her fate was still her own, and she had decided long ago how it would end.

  Maybe she could save the poor girl from her own fate. A fate cursed the moment Red had joined the Kingdom Rogues. A fate that Estra had known all too well. And a fate that she could not bear to see passed on.

  ~~~

  “Your Majesty! Your Majesty!” a page panted as he rushed to bow before his queen. “We have just received intel from several anonymous citizens that Red Riding Hood is still somewhere in the city but is on the move. There has also been word that one of the merchants knows who it is.”

  Queen Snow White brushed off the informality of the hallway meeting, her body tight with anticipation as she waited for the rest of the news. Every councilwoman held their breath in anticipation as they turned their ears toward the page, wishing to catch his every word.

  After a few seconds of killing suspense, she demanded, “Well? What else do you have to tell us? There must be more than what you're saying.”

  “How could this information be anonymous?” questioned one of the twelve councilwomen.

  “How long ago did you receive this information?” demanded another. “Where are the guards?”

  “I swear by the Maker that if someone is not following this intel there will be nothing left of my personal guard,” the queen said to herself as everyone took their turn in asking the overwhelmed page.

  The page’s eyes went wide as he tried to process every question that was thrown his way. No one could keep their thoughts quiet on the matter. The once silent hallway echoed with the shrill voices of the councilwomen, and the deep tones of their husbands that caught on every pillar and statue. Even the maids and guards could not help but whisper their thoughts aloud.

  “I, um… Well, you see—”

  “Just spit it out,” Sampson commanded, his voice reaching over the others. A quiet hush filled the hall,
and everyone turned to the one person they had forgotten would give them any of the answers they needed.

  The page’s face turned pink at the newfound attention that he held over the court, but his eyes never left the queen’s as he told her what he knew. “We found a note this morning signed from a group of very concerned citizens. There was no name, and no one even knew when it had been brought to the guards—”

  “Enough with the background story,” one of the men shouted, his potbelly shaking at the boom of his own voice. “What vital information have you learned?”

  Without skipping a beat, the page turned his attention back to his queen, ignoring the comments of distaste at his lack of proper protocol. “We have learned that the menace terrorizing our beautiful city is not a dwarf, but a woman.”

  Many of the men let out distressed gasps as they pictured a female menace causing such havoc.

  “We have not learned how long she has been a refugee in our kingdom, and there has been no word on where she currently is hiding. However, we do know that her only weapons are potions and a simple set of hunting knives. We do not have a location yet, but there was another anonymous tip attached to the first note that this Red Riding Hood bought most of her supplies from one merchant.”

  The page took a pause in his speech, his eyes resting on Queen Snow White’s upheld hand, silencing him. Her eyes wandered throughout the hallway, catching the looks of some of the court until they came to rest on her son. She nodded at Sampson to continue the questioning, her hand swiftly changing direction so that it faced her protesting court.

  Sampson looked more surprised than anyone, his head giving a small shake that the queen refuted with a curt nod of her head, urging him to continue. Her hand remained raised at her now silent court, her eyes focused once again on the page as she waited for the questioning to begin where it had left off.

  “You’re telling us that a woman killed six city guards? How could this be possible? Airaldan’s soldiers are trained to be better than the best, and a woman was able to tear them to pieces with nothing more than a potion and some daggers? What are the guards doing now?” Sampson’s confidence wavered as he heard the snickers from the court listening to his frenzy of questions, but he kept his head held high.