Daughters of Fate Book 2 | An Original Fantasy Adventure

Chapter 8 (21st of Iecanaon in the year 6199)

She pushed back, her gaze holding him against the wall by an unseen force. Cassandra kept her blade up and between them, uncertain what would be his choice as to whose wrath he feared more. When he made no move against her, she knew his decision was made.

"Wise move." She mocked his less than enviable position, but didn't want to sheath her weapon. Not just yet. "I knew you'd see things my way."

As the guard slumped down to sit against the wall and contemplated his fate, Cassandra resumed her quest for her intended target. Her sword now returned to its customary place at her side, she stormed towards General Kayzar's war room; her steps growing heavier and more purposeful with each stride. Turning a final corner, she halted just before the closed and imposing wooden barrier separating her from her goal. Muffled voices debated from beyond and one of those, she could hear, was General Kayzar's. Cassandra reached for the knob, but pulled back at the last second, realizing how utterly unimpressive simply walking through the door would be. She was here for a reason, and her entrance required some action capable of leaving a powerful and lasting impression.

Remembering the weapon Cabbat had given to her months ago, Cassandra caressed the handle where it rested in her belt. Every morning she put it there, always carrying it with her. But she hadn't considered firing it since that day in the dwarf's lab. However, it seemed like a prudent way to make the impact she wanted.

Knowing that her ears were in for a shock the second she unloaded the chambered round, Cassandra withdrew the weapon and leveled it at the door. Finger on the trigger, she put more effort into aiming than the situation warranted, considering there was little chance of a miss. She braced herself, remembering the last time she had used the weapon. With a pull of her finger, the device clicked. But there was no explosive roar as expected.

Cassandra stood there, waiting, and then remembered the safety the dwarf had set to prevent an accidental discharge. She removed it, pointed again, pulled once more, and that is when the resounding thunder of the device cracked. Wood shattered before her and, as the smoke cleared, Cassandra erupted through where the door had been, returning the pistol to her belt.

General Kayzar's men were in various, agonizing poses. Some were curled up on the floor. Others hunched over the table. But all were expressing some level of deep anguish as they were holding their heads and covering their ears. One unfortunate officer seated with his back to the door had taken a large shard of wood to the chest and didn't look to have survived.

"Okay," she announced. "I hate long meetings. So let's get this over with!"

"What is the meaning of this!" General Kayzar recovered, wearing the black armor Cassandra swore he must never take off, and locked eyes on her. "You?"

"Yes, me!" Cassandra confirmed. "Your guard and I already had a little talk in the hallway." Cassandra strode to the table, pushed the dead officer from his seat, and placed herself in his stead. "He realized it was in his best interest to not try and stop me. Now, where's my prisoner?" To punctuate her demand, Cassandra swatted the deceased man's mug of ale, sending it crashing into the wall.

General Kayzar took glances at each of his still incapacitated advisors. Not a one was in any shape to move against the young woman. "Your prisoner is now under my jurisdiction, Sub-General Nightwing." His voice cool and unimpressed by neither the display of carnage nor her bravado, the General stood, his hand moving to the hilt of his sword. "You failed to get answers. My inquisitors will have better luck."

"I don't want him dead!" Cassandra bolted forward, both hands on the table. "I want him to suffer. And I want him returned!" She planted her fist onto the tabletop and it shook. Next, she targeted a stack of official and important looking documents for being shoved to the floor.