Shadow Assassins (The Second Realm Trilogy) (14 page)

When she asked him how he was going to travel, he didn't know. She did. She knew the stable master of a farm not too far from here, who would let her borrow horses. It was one more reminder of why her company was sometimes a necessity; she had connections that he didn't in his isolation.

She also assumed that she was going with him.

“Are you coming with me?” he asked, trying to be polite.

She paused at this. “Well...if you don't want me to, then I won't. But I can at least get us a faster way to travel. The stable master won't lend his horses out if I'm not going to be there and the journey will take twice as long on foot.”

He cursed inwardly and glanced back at her. “Well, I guess you're going then.”

Chapter Thirteen

There was a great commotion as Marco and Camira were led to where D'jerik had his war party. A small band of warriors on horseback were there to greet them. Like D'jerik, they had feathers in their hair. Most had their hair tied back with leather thongs, but a few had braided, beaded and feathered hair around their shoulders. Camira was the only woman there and a few of the warriors gave her disapproving stares.

“We ride back to Oraldine first, before we take you to Moonriver, stranger,” D'jerik said to Marco. “There, we return Camira in the safety of the colony. These are not safe times for a woman to be riding around, even with a guard.”

“What?” Camira cried. “I am not going back just yet! I said I would escort him to–”

“
We
will escort him to Moonriver. You will go back to your father.”

Marco's dislike of D'jerik increased with every syllable the warrior elf spoke. He didn't intervene out of fear that they would cast him aside instead of helping him, but tried smiling at Camira for reassurance. He would have patted her shoulder but his hands were still tied.

D'jerik took hold of the reins of a horse without a rider. Pure white, the horse's mane and tail had also been adorned with feathers and beads. Without looking at her, he said to Camira, “Here, ride so you will not slow us down.”

His idea of chivalry wasn't very romantic.

Camira glared at him, but mounted the stallion with ease. The warriors reformed themselves around her, creating a deadly guard. Marco, D'jerik and D'jala walked beside her, with Marco in the front. Having the deadly elves at his back was something he didn't like, but it was better than being abandoned by them.

They began the journey away from the forest, with the warriors on horseback sticking close to their leader. Marco didn't know how far they were going to walk and they had to pause several times for him to rest. The group traveled fast, faster than how he and Camira had been exploring the forest and he had already been walking for too long anyway. He was a city kid and walked everywhere, but this was a long journey.

At long last, as the sun was high in the sky, they reached a line of trees and a large stone gate. At this, D'jerik made his way to the head of the pack. “Welcome to Oraldine.”

They passed through the gate and into another forest, of sorts. Or, that's what Marco saw at first. When he looked again, he realized that the
trees, while huge and ancient, were set up in a sort of organized way, forming neat rows with plenty of space in between each. Above the ground, on the tree trunks were ornate networks beneath the tree tops, like roads. Woven from tree limbs, vines and other things the trees themselves gave, they formed small, intricate pathways between the trees at various levels. Within the branches of the trees, dwellings were formed out of wooden planks. Like tree houses, they stood proudly within the trees that housed them, being sheltered and protected by the many branches.

There were elves on ground level as well. Stone huts stood on the ground, with the largest being tower-like and rather circular in appearance. Unfortunately, the elves around the tower seemed to be running and gathering armor and weaponry, as if they were under attack.

“The Citadel!” one elf cried. “They're after the Citadel!”

As soon as the cry had been made, D'jerik's warriors were on instant alert. After a moment, the thundering sound of horse hooves rang through the air. Enough horses to be an army...or an invasion.

“Warriors, break!” D'jerik yelled.

Marco turns to ask what was happening but the war party had already left, leaving Camira on horseback next to him. She dropped to the ground and asked him where his knives were. After she had drawn one of his knives from one of his pockets, she opened the blade and marveled at the folding mechanism once more, before she sliced through the ropes binding him.

“The Second Realm was created by four powerful mages,” she said. “A long time ago, the Citadel was their living space. After the territory fell into elf hands, the Citadel became a holy place, used for ritual and elder council. It's an important part of our village.”

She turned back to the village, where knights on horseback were seen coming from behind the trees, heading for the tower she called the Citadel.
“Knights of Emeralde. They seek to destroy what means so much to us.”

A shout caught their attention. Marco turned and everything began moving in hellish slow motion. He saw D'jala fall off of his dappled war horse, leaving D'jerik vulnerable and completely open to attack. D'jerik was trying to help someone and didn't notice–

“No!” Marco shouted as he saw a knight raise a bow and arrow up to D'jerik's level. The arrow was already soaring through the air when Marco reached out. His magic flowed straight from him into the air, searching for the arrow. The arrow froze in mid-flight, glowing white as Marco's powers washed over it. With only seconds to spare, the arrow changed trajectory, missing D'jerik altogether. As the arrow circled back to the knight, the knight had the misfortune of removing his ruined helmet – before the arrow made a new home right between the knight's eyes.

Marco wasn't expecting the arrow to hit bone and flesh instead of metal. He flinched. The white glow that surrounded the arrow was surrounding his body now, filling him with a warm light. Once he
released his hold on the arrow, the glowing and the warmth that came from it stopped.

D'jerik glanced his way, as if matching the glowing from the arrow to him. Silent gratitude passed from him in the form of a nod, before he turned back to the battle at hand.

By this time, the battle had moved away from the Citadel. The elves made it clear that having the knights even step
near
their sacred landmark was not allowed. They also made it clear that they did not kill when it was needed. Several knights were disabled, thrown off of their horses and corralled into an area where they could not escape. Marco helped keep the knights penned, pushing armored knights back and collecting their weapons. One man didn't want to surrender his sword and instead came after Marco. Marco gave a yell as he fell back–

A familiar roar answered him.

The familiar roar was enough to terrify everyone where they stood. Knights froze as if the ground under them had given way and the elves glanced around, confused. Relief flooded through Marco. If he was right, then...

Yes
.
He was right! The roar echoed once more, shaking the treetops, before a streak of glowing red energy came towards him. The streak hit the attacking knight square in the chest, pushing him away from Marco. Pinned to the dirt below, the knight could only stare in confusion as a woman with one angel wing and one demon wing ripped him to shreds.

Marco couldn't watch. This was Evangeline, the
real
Evangeline, in demon mode. When she was like this, it was either stand out of her way or get killed. In the earliest days of the Shadow Assassins, Evangeline had worn a small vial of holy water around her neck to be used if she transformed when it wasn't necessary. There was no holy water or anything else to fight off the demon that ripped metal armor to shreds like it was tissue. He could only stand out of her way.

The horrific sounds of Evangeline eviscerating the knight before her were enough to freeze all battles on all sides. Both the elves and
the humans stared at her with horror, before someone finally announced what she was.

“Demon!
She is a demon!”

“Don't attack!” Marco shouted before anyone could move towards her. “She's my friend!”

“You befriend demons?” D'jerik demanded. He clutched his bleeding shoulder as he limped towards the human, his eyes narrowed.

“She's trying to defend me! She saved me! She's not evil!”

Before D'jerik could question the validity of the statement, Evangeline let out another roar, this one weaker. Her demon energy was strong, but short-lived. With the knight wiped from existence, she transformed back into her human form, collapsing on bloody dirt below her.

“Is that Dante?” a human knight whispered to his comrade.

“She looks like her, but without the scar,” his comrade replied.

Marco ignored their commentary and ran towards his friend. Evangeline was out cold, and aside from bloody hands, there was nothing else to indicate that she had just transformed from a horrific demon form.

“Allow me to help,” a new voice said.

He looked up and saw a man with a long traveling cloak around him. The cloak looked like it was made storybook royalty and the man spoke with a regal voice.

“Who are you?”

“I am helping Evangeline cross to Moonriver,” the cloaked man said. “If you are another one of Evangeline's lost companions, we ran across your friend Kaleb earlier, when we were in Kkyathi territory.”

“Where is he?” he asked.

“He insisted on staying to help the Kkyathi, so we left him.”

That was an odd concept. Why would Kaleb want to stay behind, instead of joining Evangeline? Marco shook the thought off and focused back on the woman in front of him. With the cloaked man's help, he moved Evangeline into the Citadel. There were a few protests by the elves, but it was the closest building out of harm's way.

Inside the Citadel, it was cool, with the only light coming from a few lanterns on the walls. In the dim lighting, the cloaked man lowered his hood. His face was as regal as his voice, but the way he looked down at Evie made Marco uncomfortable; too familiar for Marco's taste, too affectionate.

One of the elves inside the Citadel gave a shout of alarm. “The Prince of the Emeralde Kingdom!”

Marco stared at the man before him in alarm. Just based on what he had heard, the Emeralde Kingdom was the one attacking everyone else. Why would Evangeline be traveling with someone from that kingdom?

The prince looked annoyed, but calmly explained that he did not support his father's war. His voice suggested that this wasn't the first time he had to have given that speech. He explained how he helped Evangeline escape his father's territory and his job of escorting her to Moonriver.

“Erik?” Evangeline asked as she slowly woke up.

“You're awake,” he said, kneeling down to her level as soon as he heard her voice.

“Marco?” Evangeline asked, this time slower, as if she wasn't sure if he was there or not.

“Hey, you.” Marco mirrored the prince's motion, kneeling on the other side of her.

She sat up slowly and reached out for him. “You're really here?”

“Yeah, and so are you. You came out of nowhere...”

“I saw you getting attacked. Where are we?”

He glanced around at him. “You're in elf territory.”

Their conversation continued in hushed tones, as if they didn't want to disturb the peace and sanctity of the Citadel with their words. Evangeline caught him up on what she had encountered with Kaleb and his decision to stay with the Kkyathi.

“So you're traveling with this handsome prince, eh?” Marco said on a joke.

Evangeline's reaction was instantaneous. As she glanced at the prince, her face darkened, as if she was blushing. It was something absolutely out of character for her, the sudden embarrassment.

Marco couldn't help but grin. “So Evie, what have you and this prince charming been up to?”



The elves were kind enough in that they tried not to kill. The knights that they had captured were held prisoner as intruders, awaiting a tribunal. With Marco, Evangeline and Prince Erik, they were rather curt. Kind, but curt, in their behavior.

“We thank you for your help, warriors of the First Realm,” D'jerik said, bowing his head slightly in gratitude. He glanced at Marco and spoke to him next. “Unfortunately, with the recent raid on our colony, I cannot see you to Moonriver. My duty is here, with my tribe. I hear that the Prince is going to Moonriver, however, and your friend with him.”

“I plan on sticking close to them, thanks,” Marco said with a small grin.

He nodded. “You will not be able to keep up with them while they are on horseback. Come to our stables and we will gift you a horse.”

That was a surprise. It wasn't what Marco was expecting from the man who he had deemed as a total asshole before. It took a moment for him to thank D'jerik for the gesture. After, he followed the elf to an area that was loosely fenced in with tree branches and other things. Horses were running around in a wide ring, each of them in all sizes in colors. Several had feathers and beads running through their manes and tales.

D'jerik went through a wooden gate and picked a horse out, a white-bodied stallion splattered with brown and black, with feathers woven through his mane only. It only took a fast moment to have the horse ready for riding. He handed the reins to Marco.

“This is Rain Mist. Treat him well.”

He took the leather reins and smiled at the elf. “Thanks a lot, man.”