Free The Last Princess by Galaxy Craze

an innocent life. Across the dark courtyard, I saw a crumbling stone birdbath running over with rainwater. I pushed myself up, walking out of the cloistered walkway. The inky darkness of the night sky was slowly giving way to another gray morning. I made my way over to the bath and droppedmy sword, cupping my hands in the ice-cold rainwater to rinse the blood from my eyes and mouth. The water fell from my hands in pink streams.
    I stared up at the massive redbrick walls surrounding me and scanned the remains of the crumbling statues in the garden when I realized that I was alone. I was alone, and I had a deathly weapon. I dipped the blade in the water, watching the blood dissipate.I hated Cornelius Hollister and his army beyond all conceivable feelings or fear I had for my own life. Now that I was truly a killer, it was time for me to find the man I’d come here to kill.
    I took in the vast palace compound. Lights shone from the top floor of the tower keep. Legions of troops patrolled the fortress. I stared up at the lighted windows. Could CorneliusHollister be living there?In the keep, he would be protected, but could still watch over his army. Of everywhere in London, being stationed within his army compound made the most sense, and within the compound, only the keep would ensure his safety. But it would not be easy to get inside.
    I crept through the cloisters, stepping softly and stopping every couple of feet to listen to my surroundings. I held the sword atthe ready as I hurried through the cloister archways.
    Suddenly, a blaring noise echoed through the palace, soldiers screaming out into the night. I recognized Sergeant Fax’s voice sounding through a bullhorn. “Three prisoners have escaped the Base Court. Send all troops to the gateway. Repeat. Three prisoners have escaped. Two soldiers have been wounded. Secure all gateways immediately.” I quicklyducked behind a pillar and waited in the shadows, barely breathing, frozen in my steps.
    Following the orders, the soldiers took off, some on horseback, some on foot, searching the grounds. I peered around the pillar, watching the soldiers, guns in hand. Their heavy black steel-toed boots stomped the ground, echoing through the courtyard as they tore past me.
    To my left, the ironclad doors ofthe keep stood open. A single young guard remained outside, left alone, as the otherssearched for the escaped prisoners. His pale face was lit by the flames of the torch. He was young, fourteen maybe, and he gripped his rifle close to him, pacing nervously.
    I felt the ground, looking for something to throw. My fingers found a piece of brick that had fallen from the palace walls. Hiding in thenarrow alcove of a barred casement window, I hurled the brick into the darkness, aiming it to the far right of the soldier.
    The sound startled the boy. He raised his gun. “Who’s there?” His voice shook with fear.
    I found a second brick and threw it further past the boy. He hesitated before aiming his gun into the empty darkness, then took a few steps forward, away from the entrance.
    “Who’sthere?” he called again into the darkness.
    I bolted from my hiding place, sprinting through the wide iron doorway, and found myself inside a cavernous room filled with metal cargo containers. I ducked between them, waiting to see if I’d been spotted. As my eyes adjusted to the dim glow of light streaming down from the upper floors, I realized I was inside a storage facility. The spray-paintedlabels on the sides of the metal cargo bins read ZYKLON B, CYANIDE, HCN . A strong smell of gasoline came from two metal holding tanks. Wooden crates labeled with number codes held dismantled army Jeeps and trucks, generators sideby side with old-fashioned weaponry. Bomb-cannons, fire-arrows, shields, armor, and swords were all stockpiled inside.
    Wedging myself between the crates, I sidesteppedto the cargo bin labeled FIREARMS . I tried to lift it, hoping I’d find a gun, but the box was locked and the