Page 31
Story: Rogue (Assassin’s Magic #7)
I dart through the exit from the tunnel before I’m forced to pull up short.
A vast field of roses stretches out ahead of us, but these aren’t the neatly pruned bushes that grew at the front of the Academy. These are a wild, tangled mess with sharp thorns protruding from every angle.
Jonah and Vanguard stand to my right, their backs pressed up against the rock wall that stretches out from either side of the tunnel’s entrance, the field’s edge only two steps away.
Vanguard huffs as he plucks a long, sharp thorn from his thigh.
I guess he must have tried to step into the foliage. It could have been his shout of pain we heard from within the corridor.
As Striker steps up behind me, I try to process the remnant memories of the other life I experienced within the cave.
I had fears in that other life. There was danger there, just as there is danger now.
But I also had love.
I had happiness and joy, and I’d clearly fought for that.
Chosen that.
I find myself staring at my hands even though I should be paying attention to the threats that could be lurking within the roses.
As a full Fury, can I choose love?
When I was a prisoner at the Academy, there was a book in the library called Hell and Damnation . It contained descriptions of supernaturals who had risen from hell itself.
Within the pages about Furies, it said: A Fury is incapable of love.
Now that I have my sisters, I know that at least some of the information in that book wasn’t true.
It stated that Furies were born of the primordial deity, Nyx, the mother of death, and it’s possible that Nyx did give birth to the original Furies.
But my sisters have made it clear to me that Furies are created, not born.
Likewise, we do not give birth to Furies ourselves, not like Valkyries always have Valkyrie daughters.
It makes the dream in the tunnel so much more removed from my reality, but does that really mean I’m incapable of love now?
I try to shake myself from my thoughts as Vanguard speaks urgently.
“The final realm is on the other side of this field,” he says, pointing toward another rock wall about two hundred paces away.
“Once we enter that realm, you need to be aware that time will change again. While a day in this part of the maze is a month in the outside world, a single hour in that final realm is also a month in the outside world. I’m telling you this now because as soon as we reach that wall, we’ll need to move fast. We’ve been in the maze for three hours now.
That’s more than three days out there?—”
Vanguard suddenly wobbles on his feet, his knees buckling.
Jonah reaches out to him, his hand closing around Vanguard’s upper arm and keeping him steady. “James?”
Vanguard’s voice slurs, but he seems determined to push on with what he is telling us.
“My master trusts me to fight my own battles, and he’s accustomed to me disappearing sometimes for weeks, but in this case…
Since the last he knew I was meeting you, Striker and Peyton…
He is unlikely to wait more than a single week before he takes action. If he hasn’t already?—”
Vanguard’s knees give out completely, and it’s only because Jonah’s holding on to him that he doesn’t hit the ground. “Damn. That thorn must have contained poison. I’m certain my power will deal with it soon enough but in the meantime…”
His words blend incomprehensively together, his eyes roll back, and Jonah lowers him carefully to the ground, keeping all parts of his body from extending across the stony path into the field.
Jonah looks at us with a warning. “I suspect these are carnivorous plants. First, they will sting, and then they will eat.”
“Can I fly over?” I ask, although I don’t much look forward to the possibility that I’ll need to carry each of the men over. I’m strong, but they aren’t small people.
“Let’s see,” Jonah says, bending to scoop up a pebble.
He pitches it across the air, high enough above the field.
Multiple thorny vines immediately shoot upward, one of them curling neatly around the pebble and snatching it from the air before retracting into the greenery.
“Looks like the answer is no,” I mutter.
“What about burning a path through?” Striker asks.
“It’s possible.” Jonah rubs his jaw and seems to chew over his thoughts.
“This barrier would have been put into place by those who wanted to make the path as difficult as possible. They would have known that power like mine would be rare. Certainly, a witch or warlock or even a Solstice Fae wouldn’t be powerful enough to do it. ”
“Solstice Fae?” I ask.
“A fae with power over sunlight. In their time, they could create fire.” Jonah’s eyes are narrowed as he continues to contemplate the field. “Perhaps a fire dragon could produce enough heat, but they are most likely extinct now, too.”
“You’re giving this an awful lot of thought without simply testing it,” I say, trying to figure out why he’s stalling.
He gives a heavy exhale. “It’s possible that some powers might feed this field and increase the danger. Vanguard warned us to believe only what we can feel, and right now, I sense this field would welcome my fire.”
My forehead creases. “Then where does that leave us?”
To my surprise, Striker takes a step closer to the edge. My hand shoots out to stop him, but he clasps my palm before it can land, his reflexes as quick as mine.
“It’s okay,” he says, his amber eyes impossibly calm. “I know what I feel.”
“No, Striker?—”
Even Jonah jolts forward as Striker drops my hand and steps right into the greenery.
I can only catch my breath when the foliage parts for him, the rose bushes quietly slithering away from his position and creating a wide path that opens up all the way through to the wall on the other side.
He stops on the crimson ground that has been revealed, his boots planted in red dirt that looks as if it has been soaked in blood and dried out in a hot sun.
At the same time, all three symbols on one side of the box he’s holding begin glowing softly.
“They’re monsters,” he says, gesturing to the rose bushes as if that explains what he’s done. “Like me.”
He holds out his hand, gesturing for me to join him, but I hesitate, uncertain if the magic in this field will let me pass.
Striker’s hand drops, and a look passes across his face that I can’t decipher. It could be resignation. Or… is he beating himself up about something?
It strikes me then that, since exiting the tunnel—in fact, even before that, when I woke up lying on the ground—I’ve lost the ability to read emotions.
A chill settles at the base of my spine. The moment I stepped into the maze, I felt my power was muted, but now there’s a silence within my mind.
It’s as unsettling as the quiet between lightning and thunder.
A glance at Jonah tells me he’s eyeing Striker warily, but the volcano man doesn’t say anything before he scoops up Vanguard and steps toward the open path.
I snag his arm, gripping hard and lowering my voice. “What do those symbols on the box mean? The ones that just lit up?”
Jonah’s jaw clenches. He tugs a little on my hold, but I allow my claws to descend, threatening to tear skin if he tries to move away without answering me.
“Those symbols represent darkness,” he snarls in a low rumble. “I will not speak them aloud.”
I lift my hand from his arm, allowing him to step off the safety of the stone ledge and onto the red dirt.
I’m both relieved and unsettled when the roses remain at a distance and the path stays clear.
Striker doesn’t move from where he stands ahead of Jonah; both men are now clearly waiting for me.
For the first time in a long time, I wish for boots.
Holding my breath, I step onto the earth.
I’m completely unprepared for the power that strikes through me or the fact that I recognize it.
Fuck me.
My head snaps up, and my voice is a snarl as I dart forward and snag Jonah’s arm once more. “Explain to me. Right now. Why does this ground contain the same power as the White Wand?”
Jonah is frozen, a giant of a man whose face is suddenly pale. “Because Typhon himself is buried in the next realm, and this is where his followers died.”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
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- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31 (Reading here)
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
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- Page 46