The assassins attacked the moment Kael passed through the gate.
The first blade came from his left. Kael threw himself backward and hit the wet ground hard. The sword cut through empty air where his neck had been.
He scrambled to his feet.
"Hold still, boy," one assassin said. "Lord Julian wants it quick."
Lord Julian. Even the killers called him lord.
Kael backed away, looking for anything to use as a weapon. Nothing.
"This is sad," the second assassin said. Short guy with a weasel face. "Just grab him and cut his throat. I want out of this rain."
"Afraid of getting wet?" The big one laughed.
"I'm afraid of catching cold for three silver."
"Three silver to kill me?" Kael kept backing up. "That's insulting."
Weasel-face snorted. "Funny kid."
They came at him together.
Kael ran.
Not toward the main road. He sprinted toward the old wing of the estate. The forbidden section. His father told him never to go there.
No choice now.
Their footsteps pounded behind him. They were faster. This wasn't going to be close.
"Dead end!" one shouted.
The old wing entrance was boarded up. Heavy planks across the door. No way through.
Kael spun around. The three assassins spread out, trapping him.
"Nothing personal," the big one said. "Just work."
"Wait. What if I paid you more?"
"You got nothing. We watched them throw you out."
Worth a shot.
The big assassin raised his sword. "Last words?"
"Tell Julian I'll see him in hell."
The man smirked. "Sure, kid."
The sword came down.
Kael moved sideways but too slow. The blade caught his shoulder, slicing deep. Pain exploded. Blood mixed with rain.
He stumbled backward. The boards gave way.
Rotten wood that looked solid but wasn't. Kael crashed through into darkness.
Hit stone steps. Tumbled down and down until he slammed to a stop at the bottom.
Everything hurt.
"He fell!" Weasel-face shouted from above. "Is he dead?"
"Go check."
"You go. I'm not going in the Forbidden Wing."
"That's just stories—"
"Then you go first."
Footsteps retreated. They were leaving.
Kael lay on cold stone, blood pooling beneath him. Slowly, he pushed himself up.
Too much blood. Going to pass out soon.
After everything, he was going to die in a basement.
"Pathetic," he muttered.
His voice echoed. The space was bigger than he thought.
Lightning flashed above. For a moment, Kael saw a massive vault door built into the far wall. Black metal covered in strange symbols.
Then darkness again.
He crawled toward where he'd seen it. Each movement sent pain through his shoulder. The world tilted.
His hand touched metal. Cold and rough.
He pulled himself up using the door.
This was the family secret. The thing his father never talked about.
The symbols carved into the metal were warm. That was wrong.
"Please," Kael whispered. "I can't die like this. Not without making him pay."
Julian's face flashed in his mind. The smirk. The hand in his hair.
"I want to kill him," Kael said. "I want him to bleed."
The symbols flared with light.
The door opened. Ancient mechanisms screamed as the massive door rolled aside. Red light spilled out from a passage beyond.
Kael walked forward.
The passage ended in a small chamber. In the center, a sword was driven into a stone pedestal.
Black blade. Crossguard like twisted thorns. It looked alive somehow.
Red light pulsed from it like a heartbeat.
"Pretty, isn't it?"
Kael spun. Nobody there.
"Up here, boy."
The voice came from the sword.
"You can hear me," it said. "Good."
"What are you?"
"Call me Soulrender. Your family had other names. Eater of Spirits. Devourer of Shadows. The Cursed Blade."
The family secret.
"My grandfather locked you away."
The voice laughed. "Your grandfather used me for thirty years. Fed me his enemies. Then his conscience caught up and he sealed me here. Your father was too weak to even try."
"He wasn't weak."
"He killed himself rather than use me. That sounds weak to me."
Kael had no answer for that.
"But you're different," the voice turned eager. "I can feel the rage in you. The hatred. You want them to suffer."
"Yes."
"Then take me. I'll give you power. Strength. Everything you need."
Kael reached for the sword. Stopped.
"What's the price?"
The voice laughed again. "Smart boy. Every time you use my power, you lose a memory. Small ones at first. Things you won't miss."
"And later?"
"Later depends on how much you use me. But right now you're bleeding to death. I can save you. Give you strength to kill those assassins. To make Julian pay. Just grab the hilt."
Kael looked at his reflection in the black blade. Pale. Bloody. Weak.
Like his father at the end.
No.
He grabbed the hilt.
Fire exploded through his arm. The sword stabbed into him somehow. The blade drove through his palm, up his arm, into his chest.
Kael screamed.
Red light erupted. Pain beyond anything he'd known. Like the blade was rewriting his body.
"YES!" the voice roared. "FEED ME YOUR RAGE!"
The wound in his shoulder closed. His head cleared. The dizziness vanished.
Strength flooded into him. Dark. Hungry. Violent.
The light faded.
Kael stood holding the sword. The binding was done. Now it was just a weapon.
The most dangerous weapon in existence.
"How do you feel?" the voice asked.
Kael flexed his fingers. "Strong."
"Good. You have visitors."
Footsteps from the passage. The assassins.
Kael walked out.
Three men at the bottom of the stairs with torches. Their eyes went wide when they saw him.
"How—"
"You were supposed to die."
"I got better."
They saw the sword. Saw his shirt soaked with blood but no wound.
"Monster," one whispered.
"Yeah."
Kael moved.
Faster than he'd ever moved. The big assassin raised his blade. Kael cut through it like paper. Cut through his chest the same way.
Blood sprayed. The man fell.
"Run!" Weasel-face shouted.
Kael caught him before he reached the stairs. The blade sank into his back and the sword drank. Drank his life and strength.
Power rushed into Kael.
The third assassin made it halfway up before Kael grabbed his ankle and yanked him down.
"Please. I have a family—"
"So did I."
Kael drove the sword through his heart. More power flowed.
He stood among three corpses.
"Magnificent," the sword said. "Three souls. Not much, but enough for now."
Kael stared at the bodies. He'd just killed three men.
He should feel sick. Horrified.
He felt good.
"This is who you really are," the sword purred. "Not the weak boy. You're a killer. A devourer."
Kael looked up at the broken entrance. Rain fell. Lightning flashed.
Julian was in the hall. Sitting in his father's chair.
"Come on," Kael said. "We have work to do."
"Yes," the sword agreed. "We're just beginning."
Kael climbed the stairs.
The cursed blade had found its wielder.
And Kael Voss had found his purpose.
* * *
END OF CHAPTER 2