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PREVIOUSLY...
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Azura met with Vera beyond the school and together they travelled to the Empire. They traversed the tunnels beneath the Empire, Vera having in-depth knowledge of the tunnels of the Old World from the studies of her people, that Vera revealed are no more than ashes. Azura ascended into the Empire, dreading her gruelling task ahead.

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The palace is cold. It's the first thing I notice as I duck through the shadows, finding pockets of darkness to smother myself in. It's the type of cold that creeps into my bones and reminds me that I'm not the only monster lurking within these halls.

The palace has little care for comfort or beauty. It's all sharp angles, black obsidian, and dark corridors with no care to be lit, which suits me just fine. There's not a single crevice of this place that doesn't scream of the blood that was spilt to create it. There are scratches in the stone, discarded chains rusted with age, and dark stains that could be blood.

I'm not the first assassin that has wandered these endless halls, and perhaps I won't be the first to not make it out alive.

I dodge the soldiers and diplomats, sinking into shadows, shallowing my breathing as they pass. But I stop when I catch a snippet of conversation, slipping into an alcove beside a bookcase.

"I'm starting to question Captain Vasio," a soldier says and I can just make out the back of his leather armour.

"Why do you say that?"

"Have you seen him since his mission in Warroll?"

"Can't say I have, but then again, I'd rather not be in the same room as that man."

The other soldier snorts before sighing. "I'm just saying it's weird that he didn't even come out of his tower for the attack on the Order. That's not something you just miss."

"We did."

"Yeah, well," the soldier grumbles. "We're not skilled enough to be sent on a mission like that."

"Speak for yourself."

I slip away from them, having heard enough. The tower, that's where they said the captain will be. But where is that?

My gaze darts to the stone above me. Up. It'll no doubt be up.

I enter a room of papers and books, dust hanging in the air like still ghosts until I disturb them. Moving to the window, I shove it open before sticking my head out, embraced by the scent of wet soil and damp stone.

With my heart lodged in my throat and the night curling around me, I climb from the window and begin to ascend. The stone of the palace is rough and uneven, crumbling in some places, and its age is clear.

I heave myself up, clinging to the stone with nothing but my fingers and a burning sensation to keep going even as my gloved fingers ache and the old stone threatens to disintegrate beneath my boots, even as the wind freezes the sweat on my skin. I rise, my muscles burning but my desire for vengeance is hotter.

Climb or die. Climb or die.

I keep going, gritting my teeth and hoisting myself up further, fire crawling through my limbs with each shift. The ground begins to fall away. The wind tugs at my clothes. My hands ache and my joints feel like they're about to come apart at any moment.

Each lunge forward becomes weaker and weaker. Even as I try to tighten my hold, my hands refuse to listen, my limbs seeming to shut down and give up before my heart is ready to.

A gasp tears from my lips as stone crumbles, falling far below, so far I can't even hear it hit the ground. Panic jars my spine as I dangle with only one hand. My hands are slick in my gloves as I hang on by the tips of my fingers, my other hand grappling for a hold. I rasp and struggle, fear strangling the cry that rises in my throat.

I make the mistake of looking down.

The ground looms below me as though Rupteran has its jaws open and is waiting for me to drop like I'm its next meal. Looking through the sting of sweat in my eyes, I see it all like I never have before. The darkened bush-lands of craggy trees and blackened soil. The stain on the land that is Warroll with its winding canal curving towards the Blood Ocean. That canal was the last journey for so many of the dead, the foul, tainted waters their final resting place. How many bodies did I dump in there? How long did it take Dax to reach the ocean? How long did he have to suffer in that infested place? Did they even find his body in the trees, or was it left to the hunger of a wandering demon?

I choke on my next breath, knowing I can't possibly continue on like this. Burying my nightmares, the things I've done, the woman my brother pushed me to be. My brother didn't have to try very hard to turn me into a monster, I was as pliable as putty in his grip. But Suri, Lilja, Ari, they all showed me another way, even when the darkness kept pushing, they didn't turn their backs on me.

Suri. The girl with eyes of kindness and laughter but with the courage of a warrior. She's the reason I fight now. This is for her. This is for Dax.

I reach up, grinding my teeth and burying my pains. I lodge my fingers deep into a crack in the stone, then I pull, dragging myself further up the wall, inch by painful inch.

For every vibrant light the Empire has so callously snuffed out, I climb. For the chance to avenge the wrongs committed in this wretched world, I climb.

I reach up again but this time my fingers curl around the edge of a ledge and I feel as though I can cry with relief. I pull myself over the ledge, rolling onto the stone to press my face into its cold surface, breathing in the ancient stench of the black rock.

But this ordeal isn't over yet.

I roll over, blowing a strand of dark hair from my eyes as I push myself to my feet. The rooftop seems deserted, only the sharp wind that crawls up the sides of the palace occupy this place. I move forward, keeping close to the shadow of a spire at my right.

Now I just need to find Captain Vasio and he'll hopefully be in one of these towers.

I toe the lip of the roof, peering at my options around me. Some lights flicker in the various towers, others are dark and ominous, mist swirling between them like wisps. I let out a breath, willing my nerves to steady, willing my hands to stop shaking. I close my eyes, drawing in a lungful of the moist air as the brisk wind licks at the sweat on my skin.

A hum begins around me, the song of the stone singing in my ears. I tilt my head, honing my senses with no true idea of how to control them beyond pure instinct. I focus on the world around me, the perspiration in the air, trickling down the stone. The breath of soldiers within the palace, their footsteps a loud drum that vibrates against my boots. I pull back a little, higher, into the whispering mist that curls around my legs and embraces me in my stillness.

"You've come to kill me?" someone questions, a deep voice, one that has my brows drawing together.

"Palmira knows you're trying to undermine her, Vasio. Your time is up."

My eyes spring open and without a heartbeat of hesitation, I leap. The ground stretches below me but I wrap my arms around my head and close my eyes. I slam into a window, glass shattering around me, tearing into my clothes. I hit the floor and roll to cushion the impact. I tumble to a stop with heaving breaths, my eyes adjusting to the sudden light as I look up at the two people that watch me, weapons drawn and shock on both of their faces.

Both of them are dressed in the crimson and black of the Sharlik Empire.

"Which one of you was sent by Palmira?" I ask, palming a blade from the sheath in my boot.

"Who are you?" the younger one of the two asks, a helmet covering most of his face, a sword in hand pointed at the other man.

"Palmira also sent me," I reply, my gaze darting between them.

The older man rolls his eyes, a dagger in his grip that he waves in the air. "I feel honoured that Palmira sent two assassins to kill me."

My gaze darts back to the younger man, the other assassin. I flick my wrist and the blade slices through the air and embeds in the man's throat, below his helmet. He chokes, his sword dropping from his grip as his hands dart to his throat, blood becoming lost in the red and black of his clothing. He tumbles to the ground as I stand, looking to the other man.

"You're Captain Vasio then?"

The man looks between the dying assassin on the ground, then back at me, light brown eyes narrowing. "I am. And you've just made this situation very confusing."

I glance at the pack on the ground by his feet. "Going somewhere?" I ask.

"I was before Palmira decided to tie up loose ends by trying to have me killed."

"If anyone's going to kill you, it's going to be me," I tell him, my lip curling.

"Ah," he says, nodding as he leans against his cluttered desk. "I'd love to know what you want to kill me for. It all gets a bit convoluted these days."

My nostrils flare as anger bubbles in my stomach, acidic and chaotic. His nonchalance makes me want to shove a knife in his eye and be done with this conversation, but I need answers first.

"Two months ago," I begin, keeping my eyes on him but wandering the circular room, "you staged two ambushes in Warroll."

"I remember," he states, setting his dagger down on his desk, still within reaching distance.

My gaze darts around the room of high, arching beams and mismatched wooden furniture. "Why?"

"To apprehend the thieves that were trying to steal from the Empire."

"If it were that simple, then why the second ambush?"

He lifts his chin, strands of his dark brown hair escaping its tie at the nape of his neck to brush his jaw. "Your name is Azura, isn't it?"

I don't reply but I stop walking the room to face him.

"Then you should know the answer to that question."

My jaw tenses, the answers eluding me. Always so close yet so far. "You were after me."

"Well done," he replies, an amused tilt to his lips that I want to punch off. "The ambushes weren't about your robbery, they were always about you. You were always so good at eluding the Empire."

"And you would have succeeded in capturing me if the Order hadn't interfered."

Shadows darken his features as he lowers his chin. "A lot would have changed if the Order hadn't gotten to you, if there hadn't been a spy amongst my men."

Lieutenant Pierre. His name flashes in my mind as well as his face in the forest.

Erasmus wasn't at that first ambush, he was only at the second. Palmira must not have known about it, but Pierre was in that forest, not with his other soldiers. He could have discovered Vasio's first ambush and tried to intervene.

Things are slowly beginning to make sense and it just makes me more frustrated. "So, what is it about me that makes me so interesting?"

Vasio pushes away from the desk with a shrug. "That is something you should ask the emperor, though I doubt you'll get the chance." A smile plays on his lips as he flexes his fingers. "I wasted the last of my loyal soldiers on you. It'll be a privilege to kill you."

"Loyal soldiers?" I question as my back straightens, still thirsty for answers.

"Oh, you don't know? How rich."

"What don't I know?"

"A lot. Clearly."

I bare my teeth at him, that familiar rage returning, sharp and blinding. I unsheathe the short sword on my hip and point it at him. "For the innocent lives you took, I will kill you."

Vasio inclines his head. "Let's see what you're capable of, street rat."