As’rya gasped in surprise when Dagger’s gloved hand grabbed her quickly, pulling her towards him. Without a word, dark mist began to envelop them and his eyes glared at something behind her. Between the wispy strands of darkness she saw someone walking towards them and her heart dropped. Before she could see their face, the darkness swallowed them, depositing them somewhere far away.
As soon as the inky black dissipated, Dagger fell to his knee, clutching his head. White snowflakes gently drifted down around them.
“Dagger! Are you okay?” the princess cried out, starting to kneel next to him.
“No!” the man shouted, and As’rya flinched.
“Get away from me,” he growled, his voice low.
As’rya had never heard him speak like that. His voice took on a tone of desperation, but underneath, he sounded…dangerous.
“Stop!” he screamed again, scaring birds into flight. Unsure if he was talking to her, she backed up slowly.
“What’s wrong?” As’rya asked tentatively, taking another small step away. “How can I help you?”
Instead of answering, Dagger balled his fists, shaking his head back and forth. She couldn’t see his face, his head down and obscured by his hood.
“Why now?!” the man hissed. “Why can’t you leave me alone?” It seemed like he was talking to something, or someone, that As’rya couldn’t see. Fear pricked at her skin; what was going on? What if the assassin showed up? Was this part of the curse?
“Dagger, please,” As’rya tried again. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I-”
The man’s head snapped up and she stopped mid sentence. His eyes stared through her, black as night. His lip was curled in a snarl, his posture that of a cornered animal.
For the first time, As’rya felt afraid of Dagger. The look in his eyes was inhuman, and she wasn’t sure he recognized her as his eyes pierced hers.
Her muscles locked, her head pounding painfully, As’rya considered what to do. Should she run? She certainly felt like running. Even though he hadn’t moved an inch, it felt as though he was stalking her, waiting for the moment to pounce.
But that was ridiculous; Dagger had saved her life. He was the one protecting her, taking her through the mountains. Not only that, how far would she even get in the storm? And if she could survive the storm, sure the mountain Savages would make quick work of her once they found her.
As’rya was debating on what to do when she heard the crunch of steps behind her. Whirling around, her whole body went ice cold as she met the gaze of the assassin as he strolled into sight.
Snowflakes dusted his golden armor and hair and As’rya saw the jeweled athame at his hip, just as Dagger had said. Intently examining his features, she didn’t recognize him as one of the palace knights. Though, she reminded herself, she also hadn’t recognized any other assassins last time.
He approached them at a slow amble and it was then that As’rya finally moved. She turned, running towards Dagger, and stood a good distance behind him. Struggling with her dizziness, she prayed that whatever was afflicting him would be temporary and he would be able to fight.
This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.
“Dagger, get up,” As’rya pleaded. As if her words had finally moved him, he rose slowly to his feet. His back blocked her view of the man in front of them, who still walked towards them with no reaction.
As’rya bit her lip as she waited. Dagger stood silently, the only sound from the howling of the wind.
Then, in a flurry of motion, he threw himself forward and As’rya heard a guttural cry come from the vigilante. As he moved, the shadows around them writhed, pulling and pushing as much as the wind. Backing up, As’rya retreated, shrinking back against a rock. This time, she wouldn’t be able to help him even if she wanted to. Pulling her hood around her cheeks, she crouched down, eyes wide as she watched Dagger in motion.
As’rya had watched him fight before, but it was different this time. Before, he had moved with precise and controlled actions, even if it resulted in him getting hurt. Firm, precise, steady. But now, he was like a whirlwind of angry power. Shadows condensed, the blackness coalescing into thin bladelike strands that spun around him dangerously. Instead of drawing his weapon, Dagger attacked with his bare hands. She didn’t remember him taking off his gloves, As’rya noted dimly as he clashed against the man
The assassin drew his sword, using the flat blade to stop the vigilante’s attack. Even as the spinning shadows drew tiny droplets of blood from his cheeks, the man seemed unbothered, his eyes cold. If he wasn’t fending off an attack, she might have described him as looking…bored.
Dagger took a step back, making enough space to pull out his knife. Disappearing, he emerged from shadows behind the man, knife raised to attack. But as he did, a peculiar thing happened.
To As’rya, it looked as if he started to trip; but his feet didn’t actually move. Instead, they froze to the ground, ice beginning to climb up his boots. What was happening? Was that from…? Looking over to the assassin, she watched him make several gestures with his hands and the snow in the air began to coalesce around Dagger, clinging to him like an icy coat.
As soon as the vigilante realized what was happening, he let out a howl of anger and began to morph; he became semi-solid, more shadow than man, and floated out of the encasing ice. As’rya had certainly never seen him do that before. The temperature in the area was dropping rapidly, between the whirling shadows and the increasing snowfall. Her body shivering, the princess wasn’t sure if she was going to be able to stay out here.
As she watched Dagger once again attack, As’rya began to back up, legs shaky from adrenaline and the cold. Stepping back, the princess lost her footing, falling heavily with a cry. Both pairs of eyes snapped over to her and she stopped, frozen in fear. She had no idea who would move first. The air seemed frozen with tension, ready to snap.
To her shock and horror, Dagger made the first move, stalking rapidly through the snow flurries towards her. Shoving herself back with her feet, As’rya tried to scoot away, a primal fear welling up inside of her. Run, her mind screamed. RUN!
One of the shadows sliced her arm but she barely felt it; her eyes were glued on the man in front of her, the man who had saved her before. Was he going to kill her?
Dagger raised his knife, eyes black. As’rya’s throat tightened and her breathing quickened. She knew she needed to move, she had to do something, anything, but she felt paralyzed.
This is it, As’rya thought. I’m going to die.
Another shadow sliced her cheek and she flinched, but she refused to close her eyes. Even as she trembled, As’rya stared at Dagger, his movements seeming to be in slow motion. She tried to say something, but her own body betrayed her, trapped in this state of terror.
As she watched, he froze. His expression shifted for a moment and recognition flashed in his eyes. Dagger’s hand let go of the knife and he stumbled back as it fell to the snow. The shadowy blades in the air quivered, slowing and blurring.
Before either of them could recover, Dagger’s face contorted in pain and he grabbed at his stomach, the point of a blade sticking out. As’rya’s eyes widened in horror and she screamed out.
“No!”
The assassin yanked out the blade. Expecting him to stumble or fall, As’rya was surprised to see Dagger turn around, going after the man behind him. Trying to grab him by the throat, his hand missed, grabbing the assassin’s armored arm. With a swipe, the man sliced open Dagger’s forearm with the athame, spraying red droplets in the snow.
An arrow shot through the clearing towards them. The assassin shifted out of the way, turning his body just enough to let the arrow whiz by. His eyes hardened, looking in the direction it had been fired from. As’rya looked behind her. At the top of the hill, there stood several figures, obscured by the snow.
It took her a long moment to understand what was going on. Who else would be in the mountains?
It was the Mountain Savages.
A long, strange call sounded from the direction of the savages and they began to approach through the storm. Looking back to the bleeding vigilante and the assassin, she saw the man in armor scowl before his eyes turned to her. Flinching back, As’rya froze under his scrutiny. Was he going to kill her too?
Dagger tried to shove the man back but collapsed in the snow, breathing ragged. The assassin stared at both of them silently for one more moment before turning around, walking away from them, back the way he had come. He had the same unhurried step, his pace slow enough to be a stroll. As’rya watched for a moment as the flurried flakes began to obscure his form before she hurried over to where Dagger laid.
“Dagger! The Mountain Savages, they’re coming,” she told him, trying to sit him up. With a coughing wheeze, Dagger shook her off.
“Go with them,” he struggled, his breath clouding with each word. “It’s better….than dying….”
Head falling to the ground, Dagger fell unconscious, bleeding out slowly onto the white snow. As’rya turned to face the approaching figures, her heart hammering with fear once again.