Rise (The Order of the Krigers #1)(5)

No one spoke.

“I will find the last filthy Kriger,” the king bellowed, his voice harsh and cold. “Even if it means I have to torture every single one of you to do it.”

More soldats entered the courtyard, surrounding the crowd. They held their swords before them, ready to fight. Was the king intending to kill all of us right now? The exit was still too far away for me to make a run for it. Sweat coated my forehead, and my heart beat frantically.

The king pointed a black-gloved finger toward the crowd. A woman screamed as an invisible force ripped her toddler from her arms. The king pointed to his own feet, and the child moved through the air, landing on the ground in front of him. The toddler sat on the platform, crying for her mother. I watched, horrified at the prospect of what the king would do to the child. Morlet clapped his hands, and thunder rumbled. He rubbed his hands together and then pulled them six inches apart. A single blue flame appeared.

I wanted to rescue the child. However, I was no match for Morlet and his evil magic. All that would result would be my own death, and then who would save my father? I bit my lip, trying to keep my anger and fear hidden, instead of doing something I’d regret.

As Morlet spread his arms wider, the flame grew. His hands extended toward the toddler. “Does anyone have information regarding the twelfth Kriger?” Morlet asked, his voice dark and menacing.

The child’s mother ran to the platform. A soldat standing on top of a nearby building released an arrow, hitting her thigh. She screamed and fell to the ground, clutching her leg. Everyone stood frozen, afraid to move and be shot.

“Anyone?” Morlet asked again. The flame fluttered above the child’s head while she cried. The child tried crawling to her mother, but was unable to do so because of the magical force holding her in place. The mother dug her nails into the cobblestones, dragging herself forward. A soldat ran over and put his foot on her back, preventing her from going anywhere.

Anger filled my body. My hands tingled, and a rush of heat coursed through me. The sudden desire to kill the king in order to protect the child overwhelmed me. Against my better judgment, I stared at Morlet, wanting to see the monster hiding under the black cape. His head jerked back, and the flame disappeared. It felt as if something extended from my core to his, and I couldn’t look away from him. A single beam of sunlight broke through the thick clouds, shining on the face formerly hooded underneath.

To my great shock, the king was a young man around twenty, with an appealing face, strong jawline, and short, dark hair. His penetrating blue eyes met mine. He cocked his head, studying me. As he waved his hand in an arc, a blast of heat hit me. I cried out and fell to my knees—our eyes still locked on each other.

Was the king using his dark magic on me? My arms and legs shook. I couldn’t stand or tear my eyes away from Morlet’s.

The word Kriger formed in my head, gently, like a soft whisper of smoke curling around a branch.

Kriger. This time louder, more forceful, almost accusing.

My palms tingled. Something swelled in them below the surface. What was happening? A hand clamped down on my arm, and I was finally able to break eye contact with the king.

“Look at me and focus,” a gruff voice whispered. I glanced at the man holding me. “We don’t have much time.” He released my arm. “Can you touch this?” He pulled out a silver necklace from under his shirt. A large, round medallion dangled from it.

I hesitated, since I had no idea who this man was or why he was helping me. “Unless you want to be arrested, do as I say.”

“Move!” Morlet roared. He descended from the platform and made his way toward me.

I reached out and touched the medallion. The man cursed.

“Where did she go?” the king shouted frantically, unable to see me through the dense crowd.

“Morlet is coming for you.” The man slipped off his large, fur-trimmed jacket and handed it to me. “Put this on.”

I shoved my arms into the warm coat, realizing this was the man I was looking for. Pulling out the black jar, I handed it to him.

He rocked back on his heels, startled, but quickly put the bottle in his pocket. “I have to get you out of here,” he said, his brown eyes intense.

The apothecary had said this man was dangerous and that I shouldn’t speak or look at him. I quickly averted my eyes to the ground. Yet, something in my gut urged me to trust the assassin.

“Rise to your feet very slowly,” he instructed.

I got up, and he moved in front of me, his large frame blocking me from the king’s line of sight. The assassin was a good foot taller than I was. He appeared to be around eighteen, but there was something about his demeanor—the way he stood, the intensity in his brown eyes—that indicated he’d been around much longer. Unlike most men, his brown hair was shorn close to his head, and he had the muscular build of a man from the King’s Army instead of the scrawny, malnourished body of a commoner.

“Can you ride a horse?” he asked in a low voice.

“No.” I’d never even been near a farm of any sort.

He cursed. “Are you a fast runner?” His eyes darted around the Town Square.

“Sort of.” Panic engulfed me. I couldn’t afford to be captured by the king. Papa needed me.

“Take my hand. Whatever you do, don’t let go. Understand?” I nodded, and his fingers curled around mine. He dropped his free arm to his side, and a long dagger slid out from his sleeve. Lifting his arm, he threw the dagger behind me. It embedded in a soldat’s chest.