Assassin of Curses: (The Coren Hart Chronicles Book 3) by Jessie Eaker (best novels in english TXT) 📕

As was I.

She swung at me, and I dodged—I could hear the blade’s song as it passed a hair’s breadth from my ear. But she had expected that and caught my wrist with her free hand and rolled backward, sending me sailing through the air to land hard on my back. I gasped for breath as her blade stabbed at me. I barely managed to roll from beneath her and regain my feet.

We regarded each other.

“The teachers treated you special,” she said, coldly. “You thought yourself our better. But I always hated you.” I was surprised at the venom in her voice.

She changed her grip, and her foot slid soundlessly across the floor as she moved to a different form. One she knew I had trouble with. The change in her stance spoke volumes. Before, she had only intended to wound. But now, she intended to kill.

Weapon! I needed something—anything I could use against her sword. And I was running out of time. The poison in his system was slowly killing him.

“How you survived the sorting is beyond me. I even slept with Master Xiao to make sure you were my opponent. I knew you would not be able to go full out against me. Your friend.” She slowly leveled her sword as she readied her next attack.

Jiaying smiled coldly. “But I have never been your friend.”

Her eyes flicked.

I read them and moved instantly, throwing myself in front of the young lord as she shifted to stab him through his chest. I dodged her blade and slammed into her, knocking her weapon from her hands and sending us both sprawling. I rolled on top of her, intending to pin her arms, when she punched me in my exposed face.

Hard.

I must have blanked for a moment. My world swam, and I blinked to clear my vision. I tasted blood in my mouth, and there was something wet on my nose. Jiaying was slowly rising and stepping to retrieve her sword.

A weapon! I needed a weapon!

I pulled myself up and staggered against the portrait of his family, knocking it to the floor. I snatched up the book and flung it at her. She knocked it aside and raised her sword.

I grabbed the ceremonial knife and the pillow it was lying on. I was surprised at the pillow’s weight, noting it must be filled with sand or beads. I charged.

The knife was far shorter than her sword. She thrust and I caught it with the pillow, skewering it, but allowing me to spoil her aim and shove it to one side. It barely missed me. I closed the distance, and we grappled. My shining knife catching and reflecting the light while her dark one seemed to absorb it. Her lips turned up into a cruel grin, confident she had me. My heart ached at what I knew I had to do.

She broke free and thrust.

I gave her a surprised expression as she felt the blade sink into my chest. I staggered back as my ripped shirt sprouted blood and ran in rivulets down to the floor.

With a grim expression, she took aim to thrust through my heart and end it. She thought she was doing me a favor.

But when she thrust, I wasn’t there. I stepped to the side and sank my blade into her own heart. I caught her as she collapsed and lowered her to the floor. She looked up at me in shock, her eyes glazed, and her lips trembling.

“Who set this up?” I demanded.

She looked at me dully. “Master Xiao,” she whispered. Her lips moved like she wanted to say more. Her arm came up, wavering between us, and came to rest on my chest. “I hated you,” she breathed. “Because... you were so nice to me.”

And then she died.

I hugged her to me and fought the tears. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

She had no doubt been surprised when my blood and wound had disappeared. Because it had never happened. Illusions could be quite powerful.

It was ironic. The illusion that had saved her life so long ago would lead to her death. Because during our duel, I had actually wounded her. And through a myst illusion, I had duplicated it on myself.

I gently laid her down and then searched her belt for the antidote, finding the tiny vial at the bottom of one of her pouches. Then, going to the young lord, I knelt beside him and carefully raised the vial to his lips—

Only he wasn’t breathing.

I gasped and felt for his pulse, but there was none. And when I checked his eyes, only death looked back.

I was too late.

I cradled him in my arms, and in my misery, rocked back and forth. I raised my head.

And wailed.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Gates of

The Empire

I bolted upright as I awoke. The strong memories from Fumiko’s fight echoed in my mind. For a moment, I expected to see the dead bodies of Jiaying and Lord Luoyangei.

Instead, I found the room softly lit by the rising sun. Spraggel blinked at me in surprise and pulled back his arm. He had been reaching to awaken me since we had agreed to leave just after dawn.

He chuckled. “Are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I rubbed my face. “I think I just did.”

Zofie was sitting upright next to me, awake, and likely ready for a trip to relieve herself. Cabrina was curled up in a ball in the corner and snoring softly. As expected, Fumiko was missing. I touched her mat and found it cold.

We got ourselves together and went to see about breakfast. We found Fumiko already there nursing a cup of hot tea. She refused to look