The Winged Assassin Read online

  “Just think how much more interesting your life would have been if we’d made it to Ruepa.” She shook her head in wonder. “That seems like a lifetime ago.”

  Before meeting Averin, she and Klaus had planned to escape from their orphanage in Askavol to thwart Martka Alonya’s efforts to marry her off to some stranger.

  She fiddled with her pendant. As it happened, Martka Alonya seemed to have been the one person who’d known who her parents were and why she’d been glamoured to appear human. Martka Alonya had died at the hands of Radomir and the other Pyreack fae before Stasha could question her.

  Now it seemed the Tiyanak also knew more about her than anyone else. The reference to the pastry shop in Teagarta dated his knowledge of her to at least a full year before Averin had shown up. Perhaps the foul thing was right, and it was best to keep her mouth shut about their deal until she learned more about what he knew, and, more importantly, what he wanted. How she wished she could take Klaus aside and tell him everything. Wise, sensible Klaus would know what to do.

  Klaus’s head tilted. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a raven.”

  She forced a laughed and tossed her braid over her shoulder. “Darkness engulf us before I ever worry about ravens again.” She shot Averin a cocky grin. “He was the raven that tormented us back home.”

  Klaus’s eyes bulged at both her and Averin. “He—you—can shapeshift?”

  “One of the lucky few who can,” Trystaen replied while Averin smirked. “It’s a rare gift only granted to selected fae born within the borders of Zephyr.”

  Klaus gulped. “Fae really aren’t human, are they?”

  Which brought them back to the problem.

  She waved an airy hand at her other human friends. “And what about you?” She looked at each of them in turn. “Picked out new jobs yet?”

  Feral Fox shrugged, and the boys sniggered. “If only it was so easy,” Feral Fox wheezed through a mouth almost devoid of teeth. He’d lost another tooth from his bottom jaw in Angharad, leaving him three visible ones that leaned as precariously as old grave stones. Could the fae in Zephyr fix that too?

  “Stasha’s concerned about you,” Averin said. “Where you’ll go, and what you’ll do… that kind of thing. So, let me put you all at rest. You’re welcome to come with us to Ilyseryph.”

  Ivan, Goul, and Vlad exchanged an expectant look, and then all three of them turned to Feral Fox. Feral Fox nodded. Clearly, they had discussed this and had appointed Feral Fox their spokesman. He cleared his throat. “The lads and me… Well, we were wondering what we’d do there?”

  “And would we be welcome?” Goul’s face was intense. Wary. A line creased between his heavy brown eyebrows.

  Hardly surprising. Like her, they’d grown up believing fae to be the ultimate enemy. It was no easier for them to transition to life in a fae royal court than it was for her. And then there was that recurring question: Would they be welcome?

  Averin had assured her that his family, difficult mother included, would embrace her and Klaus. Trouble was, she still didn’t know what he and his family wanted her for, apart from the obvious, of course—she was a weapon coveted by nations and kings. Or so Radomir, the Pyreack captain who had kidnapped her and sent her friends to Angharad, had so graphically called her. All she knew was that she could shoot lethal white heat without even trying.

  Boa caught her eye and frowned pointedly at Suren.

  Suren, her pretty Pyreack fae with chocolate-brown skin, warm brown eyes, and long, silky dark hair, sat at the edge of the group. Boa wanted her to take Suren with her to Ilyseryph. In Angharad, Suren had pledged his loyalty to both Boa and her. Suren wanted to go with her as a friend and ally in the Zephyr court, despite the obvious dangers. Averin and the other Zephyr royals were unlikely to welcome him.

  No point in being bashful. That wouldn’t get Suren a vital royal invitation.

  She tossed her shoulders back, and, keeping her voice light, said to her human friends, “You won’t be the only outsiders at Ilyseryph. Suren and I will also be fish out of water.” She gestured to Suren. “He and I are Pyreack.” She gave an impressive eye roll. “And we all know how much everyone loves them.” She followed up by holding her palm up to Suren for a high five. “We’ll have each other’s backs.”

  Instead of slapping her waiting hand, Suren hitched in a breath and looked at the space between her and Averin.

  Trystaen shifted so fast, his leather boots squealed.

  Eliezar was as unmoving as the broken statues of the two-faced god that lined the temple walls.

  None of her human friends made a squeak. Apart from Klaus, they’d all seen she had both fire and water magic. Boa had extracted oaths of silence from them on pain of death if they let that slip. The sooner she brought Klaus up to speed, the better.

  Averin pulled her hand out of the air and squeezed it. “Surely Suren is needed in Boa’s ranks? Darien isn’t going to be happy about losing Angharad. He’s going to throw everything he has at destroying Boa and her rebels.” He didn’t look at Boa or Suren. Did he suspect that it was on Boa’s insistence that Suren come to Zephyr?

  Boa had told her not to back down, regardless of Averin’s objections. Time to ramp up her campaign. “He’s my friend. Sort of.” She grinned at Suren. They had called each other that in Angharad.

  Suren smiled back tentatively.

  She leaned into Averin. “Haven’t you heard the saying: keep your enemies close and your friends even closer?”

  Everyone laughed, but only Klaus and Boa’s laughter sounded natural and unforced. Klaus knew her well enough to accept just about anything she spouted when wrangling for things.

  Boa knew the truth.

  Averin turned his insanely blue eyes on her. “I think you may have the order of that cliché wrong, pit princess.”

  Trystaen’s broad shoulder shook with laughter. “Just as well Klaus is the scholar in your partnership.”

  Time to throw down a challenge to the three Zephyr fae.

  “No. No mistake.” She rewarded Averin, Trystaen, and Eliezar with a radiant smile. “At least Radomir made his intentions very clear. He was taking me to his king. Zephyr’s intentions are shrouded in mist.” She scrunched her nose. “Maybe mist works better for Ocea.” She bowed her head at Boa. “Princess Boadicea, please accept my apologies. I know exactly what Ocea wants with me.” Boa arched an eyebrow and looked pointedly at Averin. He didn’t look away from Stasha.

  Stasha nudged Klaus. “What analogy works for air magic?”

  Klaus cleared his throat. Loudly. It was the only sound in the silent circle. “I think Averin gets the message.” For someone who had no idea of what was going on, Klaus had read the situation perfectly. Typical Klaus. No wonder she couldn’t bear the thought of life without him.

  She spun to Averin. “Do you get my message? Or should I send it on a plume of flame? Which color would you like? Green, blue, or orange?”

  Averin gave her a wry smile. “Have I ever failed you, pit princess?”

  She pouted. “Didn’t your mother teach you that answering a question with a question is evasive?”

  Face pulled into a mocking smile, Averin pressed his hand to his chest. She braced herself for him to laugh her question away. For a long moment, he was still. Finally, he sighed and dropped his hand. “Stasha, you expected me to implicitly trust your plan to sack Angharad—a Pyreack stronghold my army of honed warriors had failed to capture.” His voice was low. Intense. Familiar darkness swallowed the stars in his eyes. “I’m asking you to honor me with the same trust.”

  She hissed in a breath. Averin wasn’t happy with what awaited her in Ilyseryph. That much was clear. She glanced at Eliezar and then Trystaen. Eliezar’s thoughts were locked behind his customary stillness. Trystaen was easier to read—he stared at his fingernails as if they were the most interesting things in the world.

  Boa dug her elbow into Stasha’s side. The meaning was clear… time to bargain with the son of
Zephyr. The stakes: a royal invitation extended to Suren in exchange for her trust.

  But if she tossed down that bet and Averin took it, she could not ask him again about what awaited her in Ilyseryph. Not a word could pass her lips. She truly would be walking in the dark.

  Not knowing would be torture. Uncertainty would devour her. But if that was the price she had to pay to have Suren at her side as a friend and confidant, then so be it.

  So… how to win stubborn Averin over?

  He was a fae, and if she’d learned anything about his—her—kind since Askavol, it was that fae did nothing unless it served them. Even Averin and Rican, brothers who seemed to get along well, had traded favors to get things done. They built alliances and waged war on a trade-off. Or so it seemed.

  Best to bet the sky, the moon, and the stars as an opener. That way, she had room to retreat when Averin haggled.

  She cleared her throat. “Okay, Averin. I offer you my trust in exchange for an invitation to Suren to join me at the palace in Ilyseryph. That invitation must be honored by every single fae in Zephyr, or I’ll never be confident that I’m not taking my sort-of friend to his death.”

  “That’s your opener?” Averin whistled. The shrill sound seemed to go on forever. Just how much air did wind-boy have in those lungs of his?

  Trystaen slumped back against the wall, his mouth drooping.

  Boa and Suren stayed motionless. Her human friends, Klaus included, leaned forward expectantly. Waiting for the showdown. Averin’s answer would probably determine whether they came to Zephyr. Any doubt that Averin would protect his ‘guests’, then they’d likely opt for starting new lives far away from fae. Who could blame them? Where would they go? Was there anywhere on Zathryth that wasn’t infested with bargaining, warring fae? If there was, she’d never heard of such a place.

  Only Eliezar looked amused. That was so unexpected, her eyebrows spiked. He responded by patting her knee. Now her mouth dropped. He actually chuckled. “You and Trystaen once spoke about the difficulty you’ve had in adapting to harsh changes. I congratulate you; you’ve become a fae with remarkable ease and rapidity.”

  It was bad enough that Eliezar could see right into her soul, but did he also have to broadcast what he saw there?

  Best to feign ignorance.

  Heart in her mouth, she snapped, “Meaning? You forget that Averin met me in a fighting pit. I was betting everything I owned on a new life for me and Klaus.”

  Eliezar’s pale-blue eyes seared hers. “I think you know what I mean.” His voice carried no malice. “We’re not your enemies, Stasha. Far from it. We’re the best friends you’ll ever have.” He dipped his head at Klaus. “That includes you, of course.”

  She writhed in her skin. Would “friends” drag her into the unknown when it would be so easy to tell her what to expect? Then again, despite knowing the horrors that awaited them in Angharad, they’d all wagered their lives to rescue Klaus. No one would take such an enormous risk for an enemy.

  Averin’s hand dropped onto her other knee. “Don’t start shooting fire at us, pit princess. We all know you drive a hard bargain. It’s one of the reasons we like you so much.”

  She jumped to her feet, needing to move if she was to have any advantage here. “And look how well that turned out!” She pirouetted, waving her arms at all the fae and humans rescued from the death camp. “We now own a gold mine. And Darien has been thoroughly whipped.” She grinned at Averin. “C’mon, accept my deal. You know you want to.” Inside, she quaked. Would Averin buy her performance?

  He hopped to his feet. “I have a different deal to offer you.”

  She froze and stared at him cannily—or, rather, she hoped it showed how wily she was. “I’m listening.”

  “That’s a start.” He flashed her a bright smile, which faded quickly. “Binding myself to you with a promise that, in turn, binds me to every fae in Zephyr is never going to happen. A mere prince, I have little control over the actions of fae whose names I don’t even know.”

  He’d figured that, huh? Smarty-pants Averin. She folded her arms. “So, your counteroffer? Let’s hear it.”

  Averin turned to Suren. His gaze wasn’t warm. “Despite you being Pyreack, considered an enemy by my king, my queen, my crown prince, my entire court, my Azura, my regular army, and every flower girl selling blooms on market day, I extend an invitation to you to stay at my home in Ilyseryph for as long as Stasha lives there.”

  Suren’s mouth popped open.

  Averin pushed on before Suren could marshal an answer. “Please understand that my protection only extends to the physical boundary of the Trysael palace. Beyond that, I bear no responsibility for what happens to you, should you accept this invitation.” Averin pivoted back to her without waiting for Suren to reply to his barely civil and highly conditional offer. He leaned in close and pressed his lips to her ear. His kiss shot a bolt of lightning through her.

  Timing!

  She sighed.

  Not to mention Tarik. She could almost feel him scowling at her from the great beyond. But there was no doubting that her traitorous body wanted Blue Eyes.

  Averin pulled back just far enough to whisper, “I know the trust I’m asking you for isn’t fair. You proved your ability to take Angharad the night you met Boa. I can offer you nothing like that. All I ask is that you believe me when I say that what will happen when we get home will cut me far deeper than it will ever cut you. Remember, I’ve never had a Tarik in my life.”

  What was he saying? And why did he always have to talk in riddles?

  She started to pull away, but he gripped her waist and held her tight to him. “Stasha, I had very specific orders to find you and then take you home with me. Rebel that I may be, even I accept that those orders have to supersede anything that’s happened between us since then.”

  Her stomach churned. Why did that sound both ominous and hopeless? She glanced at Eliezar and Trystaen. They knew what those orders were. She didn’t need to see their disapproval of Averin’s closeness for the lightning in her veins to fizzle and die.

  “So you want my blind faith?” Her voice was hard, stony, and she didn’t care who heard it. Wasn’t it enough that the Tiyanak kept secrets from her? Ha! How dare she throw that at Averin when she was the master secret keeper.

  Averin pulled away from her. “I’d prefer to call it trust.” All trace of amusement and affection had vanished. It left his bewitching face distant, as if she were little more than a stranger, or a business acquaintance at best.

  She glanced at Boa for advice. Lips pursed in a hard line, Boa nodded once. Accept the offer.

  Desperate to save face, Stasha let out a long, dramatic sigh. “Fine. I accept.”

  Hidden from them all, she squirmed against the salt Averin had tossed so casually onto her heart. To be at the palace at Ilyseryph with a distant stranger named Prince Averin Trysael, who’d kissed her in this very temple, would add another layer of anguish to her misery.

  Klaus clambered to his feet and took her hand. Shoulder to shoulder with her, he bowed his head. “I thank you all from the bottom of my heart for rescuing us.” He smiled at Trystaen. “And for healing me. That was nothing short of a miracle.” He gestured to their human friends. “We all have a lot to decide about the future, but I think it can keep until tomorrow.” He squeezed her hand. “I’m ready for sleep. How about you?” Klaus had slept for hours since being rescued, so sleep couldn’t have been high on his list of priorities. He wanted to talk.

  She feigned a yawn. “I can sleep.”

  “Good.” Without giving her a moment to say goodnight to anyone, he dragged her across the temple. They stopped at a dimly lit corner where the fae younglings slept, tangled in blankets.

  “We can talk here,” he whispered as he lowered himself to the ground. His crippled leg jutted out at a painful-looking angle.

  She sat next to him and mouthed, “Not really. Averin has supersensitive hearing.” She glanced back across the cavern.
Only the humans remained at the wall. Boa and Suren were also nowhere to be seen. She looked around for Averin. He, Trystaen, and Eliezar were sharpening their blades well within Averin’s hearing range.

  “A fae thing?” Klaus whispered.

  She nodded.

  “And you?”

  From the moment she’d been revealed fae, Klaus had supported her. Would that change now that all the life-and-death stuff was over? Only one way to find out.

  “I can smell really, really well.” She held her breath for his answer.

  He grinned. “I promise not to fart around you.”

  Klaus right to the core. How could she have doubted him? She elbowed him. “Don’t do me any favors, you smelly brute.”

  He snorted. “Actually, talking about nasty smells. I hate to say this, but you’re pretty honky yourself.”

  She touched the muck on her face. “Small price to pay for saving you.” The gray, ratty, very human tunic and leggings she’d worn during the raid also didn’t smell too good.

  Klaus wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her into him until their brows touched. “Why are we going with Averin?” he mouthed.

  “I made a deal with him. It was the only way I could get him to help me rescue you.”

  “Conditional. I get that.” Klaus’s brow rumpled against hers. “How long do we have to stay there?”

  What a brilliant question. She pulled back with a jerk. There was no time limit on her deal with Averin. She could arrive in Ilyseryph and leave the next day if she wanted to. Her part of the deal with Averin would be concluded. By rights, he couldn’t stop her leaving. She shot Klaus a victorious smile. “Did I ever tell you that you’re the smartest brute I’ve ever met?”

  He shrugged self-deprecatingly. “Not as many times as you should have. So what spark of my genius has set you on fire?”

  She shuddered and took his hands in hers. “Please. No reference to fire. That’s a very sore point right now.”

  Another sideways look at her and he glanced across at Averin. “Okay. Tomorrow then.”

  “Tomorrow won’t improve a blind thing. I have an incredibly powerful magic called white heat.” She grimaced. “It kills in a horrific way.”