“The protection of your assassin girlfriend is golden all on its own, but if you’re up for it, you could help me put dinner together.”
“I’d be happy to,” he replied. “Do you like spicy food?” he asked, growing excited at the prospect of making a real dinner.
“I’ll go fetch our belongings,” Kala declared and headed back toward the hidden door.
“You can find your way there and back?” Skye asked.
“More easily than in the forest where every tree looks like every other tree.”
“I guess so,” he replied. “Be safe.”
“Always.”
Kala returned with her weapons and Skye’s bedroll and pack. The children at Celeste’s sanctuary mobbed her, fawning over her weapons – only guards and monks walked around armed in Bayre. Kala sighed and demonstrated precision knife throwing to a chorus of oohs and awws. The children regarded her as a shiny new toy, and she had to pry herself away to join Celeste and Skye in the kitchen, much to the children’s disappointment.
Two boys about eighteen-years-old sat around the table as Kala entered. She surmised that they were Celeste’s two friends. “Petr and Twill, I presume,” she greeted them.
The taller, wistful-looking boy got up and offered his hand. “Petr, at your service, miss,” he said.
The second boy had loosely-bound, long hair and deep blue eyes. “Twill,” was all he said, nodding toward Kala. “I’d get up, but…” he added, then rolled his wheelchair back from the table.
“Pleased to meet you both,” Kala said. “As Skye probably told you, I’m Raven.”
“I heard you’re an assassin,” Petr asked skeptically, seeking her confirmation.
“It’s not who I am, but it’s what I’ve done,” she replied flatly.
“So, you’ve killed people,” Petr stated.
Kala tensed.
“Petr, you’re insufferable,” Twill rescued her. “I apologize for him. He’s a musician and completely unfiltered.”
“Well, you’re a tortured artist and a bit of a prig,” Petr countered and sat back down in a huff.
“See what I mean?” Twill asked, and from his expression concluding that he was winning some ongoing contest the two boys had going on.
Kala relaxed and sat down with them. “How did you two come to meet Celeste?” she asked amiably.
Twill laughed. “It was the other way around. We’re two of her first rescues from about three years ago, when we were still of age.”
“Not that the bastards care that we’ve aged out,” Petr grumbled. Especially Twill – he could pass for fifteen, and the guards love nothing more than ridding the city of a cripple.”
“Thanks, Petr,” Twill bristled.
“I’ve got your back, buddy,” Petr said and leaned back.
“With friends like these?” Twill said conspiratorially to Kala, and she laughed.
“How old were you when you started this project?” Kala asked Celeste, gesturing at her makeshift orphanage.
“Old enough,” she replied. “I grew up in a family that had ample coin, and I think that bought me some measure of protection from the guards, but street kids near my school would disappear, and I’d only hear about it afterward from their friends. It wasn’t right, so an idea was born.” She gestured at her surroundings.
Petr piped in, “Celeste didn’t just find me, she really did rescue me. I was busking for coin and didn’t see the guards approach from behind.”
“Someone gets a little too into his music,” Twill added.
Petr whacked him. “They were hustling me off when Celeste marched out the gates of her school. I’d seen her a few times, but I’d never met her. Well, this girl of ten years…”
Celeste bristled.
“Sorry, Celeste. I know you’re sensitive about your age. So this girl, old beyond her years…”
Celeste nodded that that was an acceptable alternative.
“She marches up to the lead guard and demands that he unhand me at once. He stared at her as though considering adding her to his collection, but she gave him a tongue-lashing about my playing in the school band and being needed for their upcoming play. If I were carted off, there’d be hell to pay. She basically bullied the man into letting me go.”
“Hence this place,” Celeste interjected. “I needed somewhere large enough to house Petr’s enormous ego,” she joked.
Petr smiled broadly. Celeste could do or say no wrong in his eyes. Twill looked at Kala as if to say, She gets a pass, but I get nothing.
Celeste changed topics. “Skye’s a great cook. You’re lucky to have him.”
“I’ve only recently reacquired him,” Kala said cryptically.
“Events conspired against our being together for a while,” Skye said in his defense.
“Skye conspired against our being together,” Kala said, half-joking and half-accusing.
Ever the peacemaker, Twill interjected, “So you’re only recently back together?”
“Yes,” Kala replied.
“Fabulous. Then you should go on a date,” he declared.
“They don’t need you as a matchmaker, dummy. They’re already together,” Petr said, dismissing Twill’s suggestion.
“You have no sense of romance,” Twill replied to Petr. “Celeste’s performing tonight. You have to go hear her. She has the voice of an angel.”
“I do not,” Celeste blushed.
Clearly, everyone in this place is a big Celeste fan, Skye thought and found that he was similarly being won over by her charm and passion.
“We’ve got enough coin between us to get you in the door and a drink in front of you. It’ll be our re-engagement present, or whatever,” Twill proposed and wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“Sounds like fun,” Skye concluded and looked so eager that Kala had to agree to it too. “No sharp pointy objects, though,” Skye requested of Kala.
“For one night,” she acquiesced.
“You don’t have a lot of time. You’d better get changed,” Twill decided and shooed them out of the kitchen.
On a whim, Kala had brought with her the grey dress that the Priestess had given her. She found one of the few rooms with a door, and once securely inside, changed out of her leathers and into the dress.
She peeked out the door, and Twill was the first to see her. “Perfect. Now you look more like a girl on a date than an assassin,” he declared. “Can I help you with your makeup?” he offered. Kala nodded emphatically, and Twill dug about for his art supplies. “I have to be careful to use stuff that’ll wash off, or you’ll be pretty permanently,” he joked.
“Good idea,” Kala replied, then added jokingly, “Remember that I can kill you.”
“It’s never far from my mind, I assure you,” he chuckled and set about dabbing her face with various powders and oils. He rolled back and moved a few candles closer. “Better,” he muttered. He resumed subtly accenting some features and smoothing out others. After a while, he leaned back to take in his masterpiece. “You’ll turn heads for sure,” he concluded.
She got up to look herself over in the mirror and was impressed with what she saw. “You’re a magician!” she declared. “You’re even better than my old house-madam, and she had a lifetime of practice prettying up her girls.”
Twill looked at her to elaborate on how she had come to be made up by the madam of a brothel.
“A tale for another day,” Kala deferred, smiling.
Twill put away his supplies. “I just highlighted your natural beauty,” he deflected.
“I think you might have invented some too,” Kala replied, turning her face side to side to examine it in the mirror.
Skye walked in and just stared. When he composed himself, he said, “The gods have blessed me with an angel.”
Kala bristled. “Please don’t say that,” she asked, to Skye’s confusion. How can I tell him that I’m widely believed to be an angel of death? she sighed.
Celeste emerged in a diaphano
us dress that was scandalous as hell on a girl of fourteen years. Kala’s eyes went wide. “This old thing is great for tips,” Celeste said, smoothing it over her body. Skye had to look away.
“Good for you, girl,” Twill declared, as Celeste’s personal cheerleader.
Celeste led them out, and the three of them were careful not to get dirty in the process of stepping through the hole in the wall. They all helped move the sheet of wood back into place. Celeste guided them through the town to a nearby tavern that was a bit more upscale than Kala was used to. It was lit by an array of lanterns suspended from the ceiling, and true to Twill’s description, it was very romantic.
Celeste guided them to a tiny table near the stage and bade them sit down while she left to go to the performers’ room. Skye ordered them drinks, and they sat across from each other, bathed in the soft light of the lanterns, wondering what to say to each other.
“I still can’t quite believe we’re here together,” Kala began and reached across the table to put her hand on Skye’s. She looked about the room at the tables of friends and couples. “This is the life I’ve always dreamed of,” she said wistfully. “A life in which a girl and a boy can be a girl and a boy. No predators, no airships, no assassins…” She looked at Skye and blushed. “It’s silly, I know.”
“Not at all,” he replied. “Your life is anything but ordinary. Ordinary is good. Even tonight, you’re making it extraordinary.” He squeezed her hand, and they gazed into each other’s eyes, drinking in every moment, acutely aware of how easy it was to be torn from each other.
The band stopped playing, signaling a change in performers. Celeste walked onto the stage, candlelight glinting off the silvery powder that she’d applied to her skin. She looked ephemeral, and the room hushed. She sat down on a stool and motioned for the band to start playing her music. It was lilting and haunting. She closed her eyes and began to sing. Kala was struck by the realization that Twill hadn’t been wrong to say she had the voice of an angel. Her song started low and built with passion. Her voice wound around the listeners, who sat rapt as she coaxed every emotion from them. Kala was enthralled. Celeste’s song flowed through her, and in it, Kala heard the story of her life. Tears coursed down her cheeks.
When the last echoes of her song faded, the room fell silent, then erupted in applause. Skye and Kala found themselves on their feet, clapping, not remembering having risen. Celeste nodded to the crowd modestly and retired from the stage.
Kala wiped the tears from her wet cheeks. “She’s amazing,” she exclaimed. Skye was speechless and merely nodded dumbly.
“I want this life,” Kala said, and tears began to flow anew. Skye shifted around to her side of the table and put an arm around her. He knew he couldn’t promise that they could have this life. The lie died on his tongue. He could hold her though, and that’s what he did.
They made their way back to Celeste’s sanctuary later than night. She had already returned.
“You were amazing!” Kala exclaimed, hugging her, and meaning it with every fiber of her being.
“Thank you for saying so. It’s my passion. Well, other than this lot,” she said, looking at the children lying on beds about the room.
“Why didn’t you join us after your set?” Skye asked.
“You two looked to be having a moment,” she replied.
“I guess we were,” Kala admitted bashfully. “Thank you for that too. I’ll never forget tonight.”
Celeste squeezed her hand and retired to sleep wherever it was she slept. Kala left Skye talking with Frey and went to bed herself. Sleep didn’t come easily as she lay waiting for her perfect world to combust. The longer she spent with Skye, the more her anesthetized heart thawed, and unpleasant memories surfaced.
Her dreams that night were filled with images of the drug addict Chantal she’d been forced to fight, her fists bloodied from pummeling Beryl, Tito stiffening as she drove her daggers into his neck, and the gambler’s daughter shouting, “No, daddy!” She thrashed and sobbed in her sleep, and Skye pulled her to him, whispering soothing words as he held her tight.
Kala woke again in the morning to an empty bed. She bolted up and rushed out of the room in a panic. She heard Skye’s melodic voice just as she burst into the kitchen.
He looked up, concerned. “Are you okay, beautiful?” he asked.
“Of course, of course – just desperate for some kai,” she covered and set about fixing herself a cup.
Skye strode over, handed her a cup, and kissed her on the cheek, then returned to regaling the gathered children about her exploits, waving a spoon for emphasis. The children stared at her reverently.
She waved lazily at them. “What are you telling these kids?” she asked Skye.
“Your story.”
“How does it end?”
“That remains to be seen, but I’m told it’s a happy ending,” he smiled.
She smiled back, but inside, she felt nagging apprehension. “I’d better get started on the next chapter,” she declared, putting down her kai. “I’m going to hunt down the city temple. Are Celeste, Petr ,or Twill around?”
“Celeste is out, Petr never gets up before noon, I’m told, and Twill is at his studio painting,” Skye replied.
“Darn.”
“I know where it is,” little Frey piped up. “I can show you.”
“Celeste wouldn’t mind?” Kala asked.
“As long as I’m with the unkillable killing machine, I don’t think she’ll mind.”
“What did you tell these kids?” Kala asked Skye in exasperation.
“Only the truth, darling,” he replied mockingly.
She turned to Frey. “Okay. You’re my guide today.”
“If it’s okay with you,” Skye asked her, “I’m going to stay here and do some repairs. Apparently, not a single person here knows how to use a hammer.”
Kala nodded her consent. “We all have our different strengths, carpenter-boy. You get this place squared away, and I’ll see you back in time for dinner.”
“Sounds good, and oh, if you run into any mushrooms in your travels, dinner would be grateful.”
“Noted.”
Kala didn’t have any outfits beyond the dress she’d worn the night before and her skin-tight leathers, neither of which were particularly subtle, so she took the liberty of borrowing some of Celeste’s clothes that were loose on her and therefore fit Kala passably well.
“Celest won’t mind,” Frey assured her as she returned to her room to get changed.
Frey guided her toward the temple at the center of the city. It was an imposing structure with its own high walls. Black standards emblazoned with skulls flapped in the wind high on the parapets. It had all the charm of a crypt. Kala had wanted to scale a nearby building and spy into the temple grounds, but no adjacent building was higher than the temple walls. More fortress than temple, Kala mused. Their best alternative was to position themselves across from the temple gates, which were open to allow people with business at the temple to come and go.
“We need a reason to loiter outside the gates,” Kala told Frey. “Any ideas?”
“I could busk. and you could be my ‘handler.’ I always travel with juggling balls.”
“Well, aren’t you resourceful?” Kala smiled, and they set themselves up on the corner across from the gates. She looked for all the world like Frey’s guardian but kept a surreptitious eye on the goings-on in the temple through the morning.
Near noon, Frey was tiring, and nothing exciting had been visible through the temple gates when Kala spotted a woman in flowing black robes approaching. It can’t be, she thought. How can she be here? The High Priestess from the town that Kala had just left strode through the temple gates. I have to find a way inside and find out what she’s doing here, Kala concluded.
Kala raced back to Celeste’s place with a bewildered Frey in tow. She burst in and announced to Skye, “She’s here. I don’t know how she’s here, but she’s here!”
&
nbsp; “Who’s here?”
“It doesn’t matter… It means that there must be a way to direct the airships, not just stowing aboard them. The Priestess proves it,” Kala exclaimed, her mind racing. “I need Twill’s help.”
“I can go get him,” Frey offered.
“Thank you. Please make haste, my little man.”
Frey rushed out and returned with Twill.
“I need your help making me not look like me,” Kala told him.
“I guess that can be done,” he replied, thinking it over.
“Oh, and I need to look like a priestess.”
“That’ll be tougher, but let’s see what we can scrounge up.” He got the kids running around looking for a list of items, and they treated it as a hugely entertaining scavenger hunt. By the time he was done with her, Kala judged that she was unrecognizable enough, and also looked the part of a young priestess on pilgrimage. She hugged Twill, being careful not to smudge his carefully applied makeup, and hurried back to the temple as quickly as she judged she could without drawing attention to herself.
Arriving, she set herself to the dance of infiltrating the most challenging building she’d yet encountered. She became invisible in her mundane manners and movements and slipped through the gates with a party of vintners, looking suitably purposeful and flustered. Once inside, she used her knowledge of the layout of the temple she’d recently stayed at to navigate this one, or at least recognize their common elements. Where would you be? she asked herself. Here to reveal prophecy, I bet, she concluded. I need to find the auditorium. She scanned the grounds for the structure that looked the most like a classroom building. She picked one based on the spacing of its windows, and as she entered it, she found that she’d judged correctly.
She hurried down the empty corridors toward a room whose door was guarded by two muscular monks. She approached them, looking rattled. “I’m here for the Priestess’s address. Is it here? Did I miss it?” she asked, flustered.
“Through here, yes, but go around to the back door, so you don’t interrupt her talk.”
She looked about for the most likely placement of a back door, but nothing was apparent.
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