The Queen's Assassin (Queen's Secret #1) - Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,50
she continues to mouth something over and over again. The horses keep moving, but slower and with increasing reluctance.
Cal realizes what she’s doing. Somehow she’s communicating with the owls and wolves, maybe the horses too. He’s heard of this kind of magic, but never seen it done—he didn’t think anyone could do that anymore.
Shadow might not be so bad to have around after all. He wonders if she may even be able to teach him a few things. Despite many attempts to learn over the years, Cal was never gifted in the magical side of Guild training. He’s like his father in that way.
The owls dive down out of the treetops, swarming around the horses.
The guards bat them away, to no avail. The owls screech and peck, and the howls are getting closer. The horses rear and Cal is tossed from the saddle. He rolls to the ground.
In the chaos, Cal sees his chance. He yanks on his restraints and leaps to his feet. He looks for Shadow but doesn’t see her.
Owls are still swooping overhead, and the horses bolt. The men scream, and through the commotion he catches sight of her sleeve and fights his way to her side.
Shadow is standing stock-still in the middle of the melee, her eyes closed and lips moving, even as a guard holds a blade to her neck.
“SHUT UP, WITCH!” he growls.
Cal lunges for the dagger when she suddenly opens her eyes and looks right at him. “NO!”
He balks.
Shadow falls limp, still whispering, and the guard strikes, but Cal disarms him so fast that the blade merely grazes her skin. Before the guard can react, Cal has turned the blade on him. But just as Cal begins his fatal strike, Shadow stays his hand.
Cal stops, confused.
“Don’t,” she says, and he knows she has seen him deal too much death this evening.
It is what I do, he wants to tell her. I am the Queen’s Assassin. There is so much blood on his hands he is surprised they are not always red and dripping. He is the queen’s will, the throne’s hangman, protector of the crown of Renovia. He sends men and women to death before they even know their lives are in danger.
But the owls are taking care of it for now—a great horde of them is clawing at each man. There’s a rumble of creatures prowling through leaves and branches coming toward them. This time it’s Shadow who pulls Cal into the brush, and they hide just as a pack of snarling nightwolves bursts out of the trees onto the path, only the silver glint of their eyes visible in the darkness. Their hunger is ferocious and tangible. The guards’ screams echo through the woods as they run and the wolves give chase.
“You called them,” he says, catching his breath. “The owls and the wolves.”
Shadow shrugs. “I was trying to finish the spell, and you almost got in the way.”
“You’re a mage.” He can barely keep the awe out of his voice.
“My aunts are. They taught me a little.”
Someone else runs down the path. A kid. Looks like a kitchen hand. “Jander,” Shadow whispers. The boy turns his head and looks directly at them. Then runs away quickly.
Another guard follows behind, grabs the boy by his shoulders. “Where’d they go?” he demands.
Jander shrugs.
The man curses. He shakes the boy. “Well, don’t stand there. Find them!”
The boy nods and motions excitedly to the path. He points. The guard looks that way. “What is it?” the man asks. “You see them?”
Jander nods again and points the other way, away from where Shadow and Cal are hiding.
The guard shoves him in the back. “What are you waiting for? Go!”
Jander begins running away on the path, kicking up dirt all around him. The guard mounts one of the remaining horses and clops away after him. Cal and Shadow wait to be sure all is clear. In the distance they can hear the sounds of men shouting, horses whinnying, a cacophony of hooting and snarling.