Page 10 of Prince of Shadow and Ash

Adelaide prepped the throwing knives, keeping one in her palm while she gripped the other between her thumb and the side of her forefinger. Still, she prayed to Etiros that she wouldn’t need to use them. As her pulse rose, the magic inside her stirred, a constrained energy coursing through her veins. But she had years of practice keeping it hidden.

“Look, this is simple,” the man continued. “You hand over your valuables, no attacking necessary.”

Adelaide snorted before she could stop herself. She didn’t have any driving desire to fight them, but she wasn’t about to hand over their bags like a beat dog abandoning its bone.

The man looked at her. “You think your big, strong knights will protect you, pretty lady?” He gestured to his companions. “They’re outnumbered. Three to twelve.”

The bandit stepped closer to her horse, and Ruddard held out his sword. “Stay back,” Ruddard warned.

The man ignored him. “See, lady, just give us your jewelry, and you don’t have to watch us kill your brave knights.”

“Three to twelve, you say?” Mother mused.

“That’s right.” The leader shifted his attention to Mother. “It’d be a shame if something happened to you lasses while your knights were engaged.”

“A foreigner,” another bandit said. “To come this far, they must have something valuable.”

Adelaide gripped her dagger tighter, ignoring the sweat making the hilt slick.

“I question your math.” Mother urged her horse closer to Adelaide and the bandit. “I count five on our side. I like our chances; don’t you, Sir Ruddard?”

“Aye, my lady,” Sir Ruddard said.

Adelaide’s breathing became faster, shallower. She glanced from bandit to bandit, wondering if she would have to fight them. Would she have to kill one? A chill ran down her arms, followed by a rush of energy. She focused on keeping the thrumming magic inside. The last thing she needed was for bandits to spread word of a brown-skinned female mage to every corner of the kingdom. All her years of hiding would be for nothing.

The large man guffawed. “Oh, are the lovely ladies armed? How adorable.” He sauntered up to Zephyr and held his sword a few inches from Adelaide’s neck. She stiffened. He was within her reach. “We’ll be takin’ our payment for your travel through our pass now. In gold or blood. Your choice.”

Adelaide batted the man’s sword aside with the flat of her dagger’s blade. Just as she had drilled, she stabbed into the base of his neck, driving deep above his clavicle and the neckline of his loose chainmail. The bandit screamed and staggered back as she ripped the blade away. Blood erupted after it and her stomach twisted, but she didn’t have time to be repulsed. Another bandit charged her, brandishing a spear.

She arced her left hand forward and threw a knife. It buried deep in his throat, and he fell. She vaguely noted thewhoosh, thump, whoosh, thumpof Sir Hayes shooting arrows and the clang of swords, but she focused on the bandit coming toward her from behind. She threw the other knife. He dodged—not fast enough. It struck his right shoulder, burying into his arm to the side of his leather chest-plate. He yelped, and his sword fell from his hand. He yanked the knife free as Adelaide pulled her last throwing knife from her boot. Before she even had finished drawing it, another knife slammed into the bandit’s forehead. His eyes glassed over, and he collapsed forward.

Adelaide looked over at Mother, but she had turned to a bandit on her other side. The man tried to pull Mother off her horse. Mother stabbed without hesitation. The man clutched his neck, stumbling back as Mother withdrew her blade.

It was over. The bandits all lay dead or dying. Adelaide’s heart raced as she scanned the dark trees.Never let your guard down until you are certain the fight is won.Nothing but the gentle creak of trees and the panting of horses reached her ears.

Years. Years of practice. Of training. Of preparing but being told to hope killing was never necessary. Thousands of times stabbing mannequins of straw and dirt. But stabbing a real person felt different.

Killing felt different.

She didn’t care for it.

Not that death was foreign. In her twenty-one years, Adelaide had heard about and seen her share of the violence in Monparth. She had seen Father’s knights return from run-ins with brigands, blood staining their clothes. Years ago, she had traveled through the remains of a village destroyed by a horde of goblins driven from their caves by a mining operation. The blood had dried all over the cracked bricks and collapsed wood walls. She’d witnessed a hanging. Seen a murderer’s head on a pike. But death at your own hand... She looked down at the dagger in her hand. Blood dripped from the tip, staining her skirt. Her hand shook. She took a deep breath and dismounted.

Mother walked up next to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Kiah tuhn theack hi?”Are you all right?

“Yes.” Her voice cracked, betraying her.

To her surprise, Mother pulled her into an embrace. “Oh, Adelaide.” Her tone was soothing. “They were murderers, robbers, and villains.” Adelaide nodded into her mother’s shoulder, breathing in the smell of cinnamon.

“I’m sorry, Ad. I was younger than you are when I first took a life. But I remember.” She stroked Adelaide’s hair.

The shaking eased. Adelaide’s breathing leveled out. Mother broke the embrace.

“Come,Tha Shiraa,” Mother said.Little Tigress.For once, the nickname made Adelaide wince. Mother lifted her chin with her forefinger, forcing her to make eye contact. “A lady cares for her blade. Clean your dagger. If you can, collect your knives.”

Adelaide nodded. She couldn’t seem to get her tongue working again. Numbly, she used her already blood-stained dress to clean her dagger then returned it to her right boot. The maids still sat on their horses, the whites of their eyes shining in the starlight. Sir Hayes walked from bandit to bandit, confirming they were all dead.

She walked toward the first man she had thrown a knife at. He lay sprawled on his belly, his neck twisted with his head looking to the side at an odd angle. The flat handle of her throwing knife protruded from just beneath his collarbone in a pool of blood. Her stomach roiling, she retrieved the knife.Etiros, forgive me.She moved to the next bandit. Sir Charing rolled the dead man onto his back while Mother stood by. Mother pulled her knife from his head and walked away. Adelaide bent down, averting her gaze from the wide eyes in his blood-stained face as she pulled her knife from the dead man’s arm. Sir Charing watched her stand back up.

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