City of Sun and Fire: The Three Cities

City of Sun and Fire

About the Author

Amelie Grace is a young author with an avid love of books and an unhealthy adoration for chocolate. Her goal has long been to become a published author, a goal now accomplished. A model, intermediate pianist, and determined scholar, she enjoys a life of writing, netball, studying, and music. Amelie currently resides in South Africa with two cats, three dogs, and her family. Her Instagram handle is @amelie_grace1.

Dedication

To nine-year-old me, who always hoped to be an author, and to my family, Aiden, Nathan, Madeline, Mum, and Dad.

Copyright Information ©

Amelie Grace 2023

The right of Amelie Grace to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781035811557 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781035811564 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2023

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Acknowledgement

This is the first book I have published, hopefully the start of the many more books I hope to send off into the world, and there are many people to thank for it.

First and foremost, I am indescribably grateful to my parents, Helen and Arnaud Malherbe, who never failed to push me forwards, and guided me no matter the circumstances, whether I hug or scream at them. The two people, without whom, I would never have become the person I am today.

An unorthodox thanks to my brothers, Aiden and Nathan, who I never thought could have such an impact upon me as they appear to possess. They are the ones who annoy me into hiding and writing in my room, and for that I am grateful.

My older sister, Madeline, who I never got to meet, deserves a special thank you, for remaining in my heart and reminding me that I can do anything.

A shoutout to all my friends, be there too many to name in a quick acknowledgement. But a particular thank you to Boikanyo, my first reader, and Gittene, my oldest friend, and the many new people who have recently entered my life.

I thank my aunts and uncles and grandparents and cousins, who support me every day. Melanie, Carryn, Louis, Christine, Katie, Sammy, Oupa, Grandad, Aunty Enid, Mark, and of course Ouma and Granny, who I never got the chance to meet, but whom I feel watch over me like the angels they are.

Of course, I would be nowhere without my Grade 7 English teacher. Mrs Naude (I shall never cease to call you such), you have been my motivation and mentor, and I love and thank you for all you have done for me.

Thank you to Maria, and Old Aunty Maria (a nickname among the family), both individuals I have grown up knowing and caring for me.

I am so thankful for all the wonderful people involved in the publishing of my book, editors, designers, proofreaders, finance managers, and all the many other tasks undertaken by various individuals, to make my dream a reality.

And of course, a special thanks to all my readers, whom I hope loved my magical story and laughed and wept upon each page.

Prologue

The intruder decided that she hated leather boots. The black shadows between the door and wardrobe concealed her perfectly, but her confounded boots squeaked loudly against the wall as she pressed up against it.

She quietly unsheathed her silver daggers from their leather scabbards, hooked onto her black belt. The strange markings etched along the edges of the metal glinted in the moonlight. These blades had taken many lives, whether for good or forsaken causes.

The door she hid alongside opened into a lush, ornate bedroom, a purple carpet concealing the entirety of the oak floors. The carpet was shaped in such a way that it curved around the edge of the enormous bed, fitted silken covers and a crisp white sheet that smelt like roses. On the opposite side of the room, parallel to where the figure hid, a wooden door led to a large bathroom.

It all would have looked old and proper if it weren’t for the digital alarm clock that stood on a wooden bedside table, giving off an eerie glow with the time displayed in square numbers from within the gold covering. Of course, the clock had to be gold. Nothing less could be expected of the Chosen King, blessed by every living god. Or so rumour said.

The woman, or whatever she supposed she was on the continent of Orlantia, slid silently behind the wardrobe with ease, the shadows concealing her in their dark embrace. She moved like a cat, fluid and graceful, and one would never believe that she had lived for thousands of years. Then again, no one believed she really existed. Not since cities such as the one this palace resided over had reached the sky and become polluted with technology.

Footsteps sounded a minute later, steadily nearing the bedroom. The hallway from which the footsteps came from led to a large, circular living room, equipped with an enormous television, a variety of couches and chairs, a bookshelf and a fireplace. There was only one exit other than the long glass windows that stretched across the walls in both the bedroom and living area.

That was of little concern. The woman, or whatever she supposed she was, had assessed and memorised the layout of the entire Royal palace, as well as everything there was to know about the King. She had bent his schedule, his needs and his weaknesses to her own comforts, with little effort. All of it leading to this hour, this moment. It was far too easy.

The footsteps stilled outside the doors and the King threw them open after typing in a code for the installed security. The security system had been the hardest on a list of simple tasks to initiate in order to infiltrate the King’s chambers. It had taken more than ten minutes for the figure to get into the room due to the alarms, enchantments and locks. She hadn’t dared to use magic in a place so heavily guarded. Yet.

Lights turned on automatically, fully illuminating the room as the King walked in, pulling off his maroon cape and long black boots as he went. Normally servants would undress His Majesty and ready the King for bed, but the woman, or whatever she supposed she was, had seen to it that they were dismissed early through a quick twist of the King’s mind. She didn’t want any more deaths than planned, for risk of being discovered too soon.

The King vanished into the bathroom, and the figure waited. She despised this kind of work. Usually, she would have others do it for her, but tonight she needed the job to be done perfectly. As well as that, it had to be her, and only her, to execute this tedious deed.

The King finally emerged, his shoulder length hair hanging limp with exhaustion. His day had been a rough one, filled with brutal meetings and inspections, topped off with a power outage that had left the castle’s technological gadgets and defences useless for hours.

The King climbed into bed, having already changed into his satin nightclothes, the rich brat. He moved like a sack of potatoes, completely different from the graceful, collected front he offered the world. The faerie race he had been born into were descendants of the gods themselves, considered to be a perfect people made supple and nimble by their godly heritage, and more gorgeous than any human or Elf. All the Fae were ethereal and beautiful, and the King was no exception. Save for when he was tired, apparently.

The King pressed a red button embedded in the wall next to his bed, and the lights shut off. He rolled over onto his back and crossed his hands over his stomach, the blankets pulled up to his chest. Before a full minute had passed, he was snoring. The woman, or whatever she supposed she was, smiled, slipping out from behind the wardrobe with daggers in hands.

The thick carpet softened her steps, her quiet breathing the only sound other than the King’s heavy snores. Not that it mattered. She had disabled the cameras outside his bedroom and in the living room, along with their microphones. There would only be guards stationed by the entrance to his chambers. It did not matter if the man in the room was aware of her presence before the crucial moment. No one could hear or help him.

As for the Queen, the King’s famed Royal spouse, the sedative she had slipped into Her Majesty’s wine this evening should have rendered the woman unconscious on one of the velvet couches in the living room, book in hand. She would awaken within ten hours with little to no memory of the night.

The intruder made her way towards the bed. She reached the King’s bedside, and her smile grew. Up close, he looked older than one might have thought. Deep lines and wrinkles were etched across his ashen forehead, and his cheeks and mouth sagged slightly.

This man had seen and done much in his forsaken life. She would enjoy this. The woman, or whatever she supposed she was, leaned over the King, her black cloak touching the ground. She breathed in his scent, full of hatred and power and exhaustion. This man had done despicable things, she knew.

Her nose only an inch away from his, she brought her hand to his face, and ran the tip of a silver dagger along his cheek, grazing his skin and leaving a pink trail in its wake. The King’s eyes flew open, and his face tensed in shock. The veins in his head bulged as his eyes met those of the imposter’s.

Hello, little king, the woman, or whatever she supposed she was, whispered. And goodbye.

The King opened his mouth to scream, but a tendril of darkness shot from the figure’s fist, still enclosed around the hilt of a gorgeously horrifying knife.

The darkness stuffed itself into the King’s open mouth, cutting off his scream before it sounded. The King gagged, clawing at his throat frantically. The figure laughed, rising to her full height. Darkness swirled around the King’s body, blasting back the sheets and blankets, leaving him exposed to the elements and her power. The man’s neck and face were turning a deep purple colour as he choked on her magic, his body thrashing and kicking.

Shadows poured from the intruder, creeping up the King’s legs, his stomach, his chest, his face, until he was fully enclosed within the darkness, gagging and fighting for life. The figure raised her arms in triumph, muttering words none had spoken or heard in centuries.

Still the King fought, choking, clawing, silently pleading to be set free from his cocoon of darkness.

The woman, or whatever she supposed she was, laughed and cackled with glee. And watched happily as she killed the King.

Chapter 1

The Sun had not yet risen, and Lea Haramat was angry.

So angry that she kicked every muddy puddle she saw as she trudged along the silent, wet streets of Golester. Most of the city was still asleep, save for early workers, tending to their businesses and shops that were to open within an hour. The only other people on the streets were homeless beggars, drunk partiers and sketchy pedestrians.

Building after building loomed above Lea on either side of the street, varying in appearance. Golester was a varying city, sprawled over dozens of kilometres of land in a jagged heap, buildings and houses practically on top of each other. From above, it was a collage of pale yellows and cream roofs, the ever-shining Sun leeching the colour from anything its rays touched, leaving a sea of buttery buildings and winding grey streets.

Markets, the City Squares and the palace, a great gold and stone fortress comprised of jutting spires, were the only places in the city that offered relief from buildings, although it tended to be short lived due to the amount of people always roaming around.

The city was so tightly packed together that one could never fully escape the bustle of it without traveling outside of Golester to the hills and lands and lakes beyond, where railways marked the trade routes linking every village and city, every mountain settlement or seaport.

Trains were the fastest, safest way to travel other than by plane or helicopter, for locomotives and horses were often attacked by bandits armed with guns. Most bandits dwelled in the North, where the temperature was consistent, not cold like the west and not ridiculously hot like the east, where Golester stood.

The wealthier communities of Golester lived in manors and houses just outside the city, with large gardens and magnificent, treasured pools. Lea had lived in such a house when she was little.

She blew warm air into her hands, the chill from last night’s rain hanging in air. She had no doubt it would soon heat to boiling temperatures. It was rare for the city to have cold conditions, but when the weather did drop, it dropped low. It was as though the absence of heat was an electric shock to a city usually sweating from every crack and crevice.

Lea walked past the police station just on the corner of 4th Avenue, the lights already on within the small building. Lea glimpsed a burly man and two policewomen through the foggy window, dressed in Golester’s white security uniforms.

There was no location, no home or workplace, that wasn’t far from a hospital, a school, a police station or a Square. Lea herself lived in a five-story apartment building across the street from a police station, not far from the school situated just down the road, and only a few streets away from the Fire Square.

There were three Squares, scattered throughout the city and each known for their unique entertainment. The Fire Square was where major markets took place every Sunday, and on weekdays was used for large gatherings or formal parties. The Ray Square was known for its recreational establishments, including theatres, cinemas, dance schools, martial art centres, and gyms. The Light Square was the wildest of the Squares. It was where all the clubs, liquor stores and the black markets were situated.

They all represented what Golester was known as the City of Sun. Lea rolled her eyes whenever she heard Golester referred to as that ridiculous title. The only reason the city was called City of Sun was because of the deep tans every true Golester citizen had coating their skin, and the magic people tended to possess, courtesy of the goddess their religion was practiced for.

Every Golester resident, no matter what race of faerie or what wealth status, was taken to a Sun Temple at birth, where the goddess Flara would bless them with a spark of her divine power. Some emerged with the fire of Flara, but most emerged blessed, and powerless.

Lea had been blessed with the Sun goddess’s fire magic, as most Elves were, although none were sure why their race was favoured. Golester’s magic was more complex than basic fire and flame. There were different forms of fire magic bestowed upon different citizens.

Ivory flame was fighting fire magic, gifted with destruction and bestowed upon those with warrior hearts. Ruby flame did not burn, but heated, given to those with kinder mannerisms. Aqua flame burned so hot that it turned cold, but was extremely rare, gifted to the controlled and the calm.

But the rarest of them all was violet flame, so enchanting that it took hold of the watcher’s mind and forced the individual to do the wielder’s bidding. Only a certain few held the power of enchantment, those considered highly intelligent and clever enough to possess such a tool.

Lea had always wanted violet flame. But, as an Elf, Guardians of the Forest, known for their secrets and spells, Lea had been gifted with jade flame, which held the ability to bring life and greenery. It was given to only one race due to the Elves’ need for growth. Most Elves followed careers as botanists or biologists or gardeners, but Lea had decided that her future lay elsewhere.

Elves’ very souls were tied to nature, and as Golester was near a forest, it was the perfect city for an Elf to live freely, among humans and faeries. This included the Fae, who differed from Elves in the sense that they were godly beings, did not rely upon nature to survive and were a great deal more arrogant.

Lea rolled her eyes as she recalled one such man and glanced at her phone. It was five in the morning. Five o’clock in the morning.

Lea gritted her teeth and creased her brow as she resisted the urge swear. Why was she being punished when Axel was the one who had drunk too much last night, and couldn’t come in early to finish the paperwork on a case he should have closed two days ago, because he was hungover?

Lea was going to punch him. Hard. He deserved it.

Lea climbed the small steps that led up to a narrow brick building’s front door as the Sun peeked over the horizon, sneaking into the streets through alleys and holes. The Sun always rose early in Golester. Usually, Lea was in bed when dawn broke.

The golden rays lit up the brass letters nailed to the wall just above the brick building’s door, the last of the stars in the sky winking out.

The words Golester Detective Agency flashed. The word detective implied a lot more. They did a variety of different cases, not only investigations. The Agency was known far and wide for its quick, brutal jobs, many targets perishing at the hands of an agent. Anyone who didn’t know about the GDA or wasn’t terrified was either a tourist, or stupid.

Lea stepped over the threshold and into the foyer. The building was three stories high, and the exterior decorated plainly. The entrance was toasty, and the lights flickered like fireflies, trapped in the smooth ceiling.

Lea pulled off her black coat, revealing more black beneath. She always wore black leggings, a strapped black top, her favourite leather jacket and her belt, slung low over her hips and heavy with her silver daggers. Her knives were her prized weapons, the blades she worked with after sneaking up behind a victim and vanishing back into the night. The city knew her as the Shadow, her reputation a dark one. Hence the wardrobe.

Lea sighed and shook her frizzy dark hair out, the ends curling past her shoulders. She wanted to get it braided soon but was surprised at how much it had grown. She slung her coat across the rack that stood by the door, the hooks ending in curling metal roses. A strip of silver flashed on her wrist, her jacket slipping down her wrist as she reached up.

Her father’s watch.

Lea wore it wherever she went, never trusting herself to be without it. The watch was her last connection, other than a photo, to her childhood. She had taken it when her parents had died before she fled and prowled the streets for nearly six years. The watch had been stolen from her once when she was eighteen. The thief was limping to this day.

Lea glanced around the room. In front of her, a dimly lit hallway, opening into rooms on either side, stretched ahead. To her left, a spiralling staircase led to the upper floors. A large mirror covered the entirety of the wall to her right, framed with burnished bronze.

Lea’s eyes flicked to her reflection. Green eyes set in a brown face gazed right back, and she glanced at the crystal chandelier dangling above her, threatening to fall and shatter at any moment. The foyer would have looked elegant, fashionable, and old, if it weren’t for the wires that led down the hallway, connected to a large monitor that sat on a table below the mirror.

The screen was a collage of camera feeds, displaying workers and slowly filling streets. It was a peephole into the city from within the building. Lea glanced briefly at the monitor before heading down the hallway to the last door on her right. She and Axel shared an office on the ground floor, marking their status within the organization. They were the best agents, other than the boss himself.

They claimed the quarters closest to the interrogation room, and the holding cells.

Lea was simmering with anger as she walked into her office, her soft boots making no noise against the polished floors. She scanned the room briefly, running a hand through her hair. And froze at the sight of Axel, lounging in his chair behind the organised heap of papers he called a desk, each perfectly aligned in their rightful place, a system that made sense to only himself.

His denim jeans and blue shirt looked slightly rumpled beneath a thin jacket. A mug of coffee in one hand and his phone in the other, he only saw her when he looked up to take a sip. His dark hazel eyes flashed with amusement as Lea glanced at their workspace.

The unfinished paperwork was in a stack on her desk.

Axel smirked. Lea hissed through her teeth. This was a trick. He had made her get up early, hadn’t finished the paperwork and had the audacity to find it funny.

Lea stalked over to where Axel sat, sidestepping the wires that covered the pale wooden floors. Lea’s own empty yet messy desk sat in the far-right corner of the room, and Axel’s in the left corner.

The rest of the wall by Lea’s desk was lined with filing cabinets, and the opposite wall hid behind a table laden with a coffee machine, a bowl of sweets and their equipment, including Lea’s guns and their cameras. The bigger pieces of equipment, such as ropes and rifles, were stuffed in a bag and dumped beneath the table.

When she was standing a few feet away from Axel, who had put his phone down and was drinking coffee with that arrogant expression on his face, she swore at him. A good, sailor-worthy rant that would make a priest go deaf.

Good morning to you, too, Axel chirped. He shook a strand of coppery hair out of his eyes. Why do you look so tired?

I am going to kill you, Axel Mondirio, Lea told him, making sure her hands curled into fists where he could see them.

Axel opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak, Lea punched him in his tan, slightly freckled face, as hard as she could.

Chapter 2

Axel Mondirio knew he should have run. But the expression stamped on Lea’s face was so hilarious, so dangerous, that he didn’t. He wouldn’t have had the chance to do so anyway. Faster than a cheetah, the Elf was standing before him and her body was in motion, throwing a perfect right hook.

Lea’s fist made contact with Axel’s cheek, and the chair he sat upon tipped and sent him toppling to the ground like a bowling ball. His coffee spilt all over the floorboards and the mug rolled away, but he got up as quickly as he could. He needed to have some sort of pride.

But as he straightened on wobbly legs and made eye contact, he burst out laughing. His fingers tingled where they had been burnt by his morning drink.

You find this funny? Lea said in a voice that had sent many men before him fleeing. But it only made Axel laugh harder. Lea punched him again, right on the mouth, and Axel took it happily, chuckling with glee as his head whipped to the side. He felt blood drip from his nose as he twisted his neck back, muscles twanging like a guitar.

Lea crossed her arms and stared at him, completely unfazed as Axel cracked up. His original plan had been to hide in the cupboard across the hall and frighten Lea when she was done with the paperwork, but Axel had needed caffeine after the night he had been through. He had forgotten to keep his ears open for the esteemed Shadow, although it would have made no difference against her catlike feet.

When his laughter had died down, Lea tapped her foot. "Now that you have finally regained control over your body, I would suggest using it to finish the paperwork before you can’t," she threatened.

Axel took a step backwards. Partly out of the slight fear that filled his veins, but mostly to mock her. Indeed, he said, sketching a bow.

Lea shook her head, shoved past him and stalked over to the coffee machine, where she dropped a pod into the metal hatch and turned it on. "I don’t even understand the point of that joke, she said, scoffing. What are you, five?"

I could be five, he replied indignantly. I would be a fantastic five-year-old.

Lea snorted. Believe me, I know. Although a very clever, ridiculous five-year-old.

You play tricks on me too, Axel commented as he gathered up the papers, wiping his hand across his face to catch the blood before it stained the white documents.

When I do, they serve a purpose, Lea said, the coffee machine spitting and gurgling as milk foamed at the top of a full mug. She winced at the sound, and Axel noted the pained expression on her face before it vanished as she spoke. Whereas yours don’t.

Name one example, he challenged, sitting down at his desk.

Okay, fine, Lea said as she slid behind her own desk with a cup of coffee that had ‘Coffee Makes the World Go Round’ printed on the ceramic. Fake virus on your computer.

What purpose did that possibly serve? Axel asked. He scribbled through the documents, trying not to cringe at the memory. She had planted an email offering a free trip to the Artefact Museum in the Ray Square, but instead the email had shut his computer down upon opening it.

It taught you to keep your password to yourself. And, Lea added, pulling out her phone, "I got this photo."

She flashed the screen at Axel. The frame showed Axel’s mouth hanging open and his eyebrows raised with terror, his fluffy hair a curling mass atop his head. In the background, a computer displayed the words Virus Detected in bold red letters, stamped across his screen.

Axel scowled. Perhaps he had overreacted a little, and maybe it had been a good joke. Far better than this morning’s endeavour. But she needn’t be so mean.

Lea was smiling at him, a feral grin that stretched from ear to ear, making her soft brown skin crinkle around the eyes.

Okay, fine, Axel choked out. "That was one good trick."

I have more photos, Lea said, her tone teasing as she swiped through her gallery. What about this one, with magnets on the chair that sucked you down every time you tried to stand up?

I think we’ve had enough for today, Axel grumbled, trying to sound commanding. Lea winked at him and turned her focus to the computer before her. He shook his head in annoyance at her blatant rudeness.

He hadn’t ever been able to get her to listen to him, save for the few days she had begun as an apprentice and been in debt to him. Before they became best friends and she had lost all respect for him after paying back every dime.

She possessed a little respect for him, but not the kind that urged her to listen to him, the top agent in the GDA. His analytical, mathematical mind and occasional bloodlust had secured his position long ago, but still couldn’t avoid his friend’s punches.

Axel rolled his eyes and looked at the paperwork. After filling in information, correcting dates and scribbling signatures, he stapled the documents together and heaved a sigh of relief.

You need to drop them off in the archives, Lea said. Axel shot a glare at her, but she hadn’t looked up from the case file she was reading. Despite his Fae eyesight, Axel couldn’t make out the words printed in neat lines across the document.

What have you got there? He asked, standing up from his desk and walking over, setting his own papers onto the coffee table.

The most ridiculous thing ever, Lea grumbled. It could be your twin.

No need to be rude, Axel retorted.

I believe there is, though.

Let me see, Axel said, swiping the report from under her nose. Lea’s eyes narrowed, but she let him read it, pulling out one of her daggers and twirling it between her fingers. The flat of the blade skimmed the skin of her knuckles in a cartwheel before spinning onto the next finger.

"A cat thief? Axel sputtered as he placed the papers back on Lea’s desk. Three cats, vanished, from the same street, all belonging to foolish millionaires. This kind of case should be given to the agents down the hall!"

I know, Lea grumbled. "But apparently, it’s high priority. The owners are paying well, and I think they have dirt on the GDA that they will not hesitate to leak into our esteemed society if their cats are not returned. I only have to get the job done in five weeks, so it’s not a huge problem. But it is a waste of time."

Axel reached over and patted Lea’s head as she sighed in frustration. Quick as lightning, she grabbed his index finger, her dagger not even wobbling as it spun along her free hand. Axel could feel his circulation being cut off and his hand numbing.

Too slow, she said.

Axel glanced at his trapped finger, then at Lea. He scrunched his nose and blinked. A squirrel bit this finger two years ago. Now it’s happening a second time.

Lea stared at him. He stared back. Lea blinked. Axel blinked. She crossed her eyes. He attempted to do the same, but instead his eyes slid to the left.

Lea burst out laughing, her dagger clattering to the desk as she released his finger. Axel grinned, revealing slightly crooked but endearing teeth, and massaged his hand dramatically. Lea’s laugh made the sweetest birds in the forest sound as though they had chest cold. Lovely, but choppy and breathless.

Axel walked around the desk and slapped Lea on the back. Get a hold of yourself, he said mockingly.

This only made Lea laugh harder, which made Axel crack up, chuckles escaping him. When one died down, the other would set them off again. They were laughing so hard that they didn’t notice a short, squat man in a smart suit with curly black hair and a thick beard walk into the room until he cleared his throat and said, Ahem.

Lea clutched her stomach as her laughter died down, her cheeks ballooning to contain the last of her giggles. Axel walked over to his own desk and propped himself against it, schooling his face into bland politeness. He hooked a thumb through his belt loops.

Good morning, Harrison, sir, Axel said breezily, his voice deep and rich suddenly, a far cry from the squeaky one he had used for Lea moments ago. It would not be proper to use such a voice on his boss, any more so than it would be for him to catch his top agents giggling over the smallest of things.

Oh well.

Good morning, Axel. Lea, Harrison added, nodding at her. I’m pleased to see my best agents working so hard.

As hard as we can, Axel said, offering a smile.

Harrison nodded at his humour. He and Axel got on far better than expected, the man having trained Axel himself. He had become a big figure of guidance and authority for Axel after his dad had died.

Axel winced inwardly at the thought of his father, focusing on the man before him, an easy task. Harrison stuck out wherever he was, with his hooked nose, dark eyes and beard, like a fly in milk.

What can we do for you? Lea asked, standing up and walking over to Axel.

At this angle, he was the same height as her. She was only half a foot shorter than him, but her dainty Elven features made her seem smaller. Harrison sighed, his beady eyes closing as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Axel noticed purple bags beneath them.

I have a job for you two, Harrison said, lowering his hand.

Axel blinked, attempting to read the signs of exhaustion and tension on his boss’s blank face. He hadn’t seen Harrison looking this anxious for a long time. The head of the GDA was ruthless, dry and extremely difficult to rattle. If something had shaken him, it wasn’t something to be taken lightly.

An incident occurred recently, something big, he said, creasing his brow. I need you working this case.

What level of priority is it? Lea asked.

Level six, Harrison answered gravely.

Axel whistled and shook his head in surprise. We haven’t had a level six in nine years, Axel stated. Lea wasn’t an agent yet and I was in training. This is huge.

I know, and that is why I need this case to be solved quickly. I would take it myself, but I have no time at the present, and I need this kept quiet, Harrison told them. The incident is too dire to get out into the public right now.

Why is that? Axel asked, crossing his arms and biting the inside of his cheek nervously.

Harrison shut the door and walked over to them, scanning the room for any listening ears. As he reached them, he motioned for them to shut off their phones in case of bugs. They did so, glancing at each other.

After a moment of tense silence, during which Axel felt as if the suspense might make his head explode, Harrison took a deep breath. And told them, his voice eerily low, The King has been assassinated. I need you two find out who did it, and fast.

Chapter 3

Night was approaching, creeping into corners that were bathed in Sunlight. Ten-year-old Lea was sitting in the kitchen with her flowerpots, watching as small roses grew as she channelled her fire. Her mother was reading in the living room, and her father was upstairs, changing his filthy clothes after a rough day of work.

The King had hired him to be a spy due to his military background. The only reason Reid Haramat had accepted the job was because of the threats the King had made towards his family. The work Reid did was not the kind discussed with friends at bars, or the kind complained about to a wife.

His work was classified. And dangerous.

Reid came downstairs, making no sound as he slipped past the kitchen. Lea only knew that he had come down because of the voices in the living room. Willa Haramat was muttering something about how her husband was never home, about Lea’s father never at home, and Reid apologising, over and over, like he did every night.

Lea’s name was thrown back and forth