by Chloe Cullen
Next to Ione was Trey, whose face was impassive as he looked out at the gathered crowds. Cori could hardly reconcile the goofy Trey she had used to know, and found she couldn’t let herself linger on him, lest his words float through her mind again.
Then there was Valentina, a tall and ridiculously attractive blonde who had trained under Cori’s father as well and had been appointed as one of the Five while he was President. Cori had never known her very well, but she had always been nice while proving her quality as an adept fighter. Cori remembered watching her trials to become a Legion Five. She had been up against only two others at the end of the second and final trial, and Cori had watched with absolute awe as Valentina had bested them with such natural prowess. She had hands-down been the best among the candidates that year.
Ryker was next, standing tall with a grin on his face as he nodded at the Princess and out at the crowds as well. Cori had always had so much respect for Ryker, whose kind-hearted nature seemed to defy the loss he had experienced when magic was torn from the lands. Ryker had been a Diviner. Cori had been told stories about how he was an exceptionally powerful healer, one of few who could use his power to heal a whole troop of Legionnaires during a battle, barely tiring. She was awed by him and couldn’t be more grateful for the way he had welcomed her back to the Legion with open arms.
Ryker caught her eye, sitting next to the bouncing Princess and he winked at Cori who smiled brightly back at him.
The last in the line-up of warriors was Soraya, the newest member of the Five and still seemed to look a little unsure at the attention they were getting from the crowds. The Five had always been treated like the Gods themselves, and they still were, when they were only human and no longer held magic in their veins. Soraya was waving at the Queen and Princess and then met Cori’s eyes, giving her a tentative smile, which Cori returned.
The Legion Five, all standing together. Cori wondered how long it had been since they had fought together, in the way she always imagined they should but had never seen in her lifetime, which seemed like a wasted opportunity. Perhaps if they’d all been in the Compound to fight with the Legionnaires two years ago, they wouldn’t have lost so many people.
“Aren’t they amazing, Cori?” the Princess asked excitedly.
“Yes, they are,” Cori answered honestly, because they were amazing. She knew how well each of them fought, but she couldn’t help but wonder if their meaning had been lost in the years since the Gods had left them human. Shaking off the thoughts, Cori settled into her seat next to the Princess, and enjoyed the way the sun was shining, and how it made her feel to be back with the Princess.
16
THE ASSASSIN PART THREE
“You summoned me?” the Assassin said, barely reigning in her anger.
To his credit, Mr Teller barely flinched at her voice from behind him. She had climbed in through an open window on the first floor of his house in the early hours of the morning, and had stalked silently through his house, finding him standing in his office staring out one of the windows.
Mr Teller turned to face the Assassin, his mouth tipping up infuriatingly.
“Take a seat,” he said with a gesture of his hand towards his desk.
She didn’t take her eyes off him. Instead of taking a seat as directed, she jerked her head towards the open window, a silent request.
With a small sigh, Mr Teller turned back to the window which was filling the space with early morning light and closed it, before he drew the curtains shut to plunge the office in darkness.
The Assassin reached up and pulled the hood from her head and jerked down the cowl from her face. She breathed in freely but regretted it when the scent of peppermint hit her nostrils.
“What do you want?” she demanded, patience thin.
Mr Teller walked calmly to his desk and took a seat behind it, folding his hands in front of him. He waited for a moment to see if she would also sit, and when she didn’t, he said, “I would like an update.”
“An update,” she parroted, as though she didn’t understand.
“Yes – please tell me why you haven’t returned my gold pieces from that thieving scum,” Mr Teller said pleasantly, though his eyes glinted dangerously.
The Assassin could not describe how much she was looking forward to ending her contract with this man. He was insufferable and entitled.
“As always, I’m making sure I have the right person before I approach him,” she said, taking out Irandyal and fingering the sharpened tip, “and it’s a little hypocritical isn’t it? Calling other people thieves and scum, considering your line of work.”
His eyes flashed with anger. “A bit rich coming from a hired killer.”
She smirked at him. “Fortunately, my kind of work has me killing people just like… you.”
Mr Teller watched her carefully, his eyes flicking momentarily to the blade she was comfortably handling despite the sharp edges. “It’s a good thing you work for me, then.”
She felt her eyes narrow and smirk deepen, a silent message. Not for long.
Mr Teller cleared his throat. “You have had weeks to complete my task. I will not wait much longer.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked with a scoff, Irandyal twirling between her fingers, “will you hire another assassin to take me out?”
“I’m certainly tempted,” he said, leaning forward in his chair.
“Please do, I surely would love a real challenge.”
Mr Teller stood from his chair, his face purpling. “If you breach your contract, I will have no choice but to take action. I don’t care who you are, you still work for me.”
The Assassin gritted her teeth and sheathed the blade. “I will get to him in the next few nights, if time allows.”
Mr Teller sat, his small grin returning. “See that you do, or I will be in touch.”
She turned on her heel and exited his office, frustration her companion as she walked his wooden halls to the door, pulling her coverings back on with jerky movements. The Assassin opened the door as calmly as she was able, even though she wished to kick it down. She could not possibly go back into his office and make him bleed in the way she yearned to, not with what he knew about her. The thought made her maddeningly vulnerable. She had walked down two of the front steps, her thoughts askew, when she realised what she had done.
She halted in the fresh morning light and looked up, spotting a Legionnaire across the road, his grey uniform a beacon of warning, and before she could consider retreating, he had already turned and spotted her.
17
Cori trained every morning under Thoren’s watchful eye, and then patrolled the Quarter at night for weeks. Thoren had understood that she wasn’t welcome to shadow Trey despite the President’s orders and hadn’t complained at having her with him on each of his patrols. Nothing more interesting had happened than that first night where they had been barrelled over by a couple of kids. Well, Thoren had been barrelled over, and Cori had, well, choked.
Regardless of her shortcomings, it had felt good to be spending every morning in the training hall. First, she ran and lifted some weights, because Thoren was a pain in her ass, and then Cori got to spar unarmed and with swords, practise her aim with ranged weapons, and generally become familiar with the Legion weapons again. Cori had always favoured the smaller daggers. But looking at the larger swords that most of the Legionnaires carried around with them, Cori could see the benefit in them so Thoren had promised they would go over his techniques for a long sword together. He was incredibly skilled with them.
Cori and Thoren had been able to find a middle ground with each other over the weeks following her return. She had been able to talk herself out of the resentment she had felt for him, or she had at least learned to squash it down. Thoren had slowly forgiven her for the way she had first treated him, and now their conversations seemed to come easier, and some of their old jokes were resurfacing with each other.
Thoren was also spending a lot of his spare time h
elping Cori train again. Cori certainly hadn’t let herself become too weak during her time away from the Legion, but she felt herself quickly becoming stronger, and faster.
Cori also loved to demonstrate that very fact.
It had been three weeks since Cori had returned to the Legion, and she was in the training hall like she was every morning.
Though this morning was different.
Thoren had set up a series of fighting rounds between the current branded Legionnaires as a small in-house competition. The initiates, and a few other Legionnaires who weren’t participating were all sitting or standing around the perimeter of the hall, and watched with eagerness, cheering and jeering alike in good fun.
There were multiple bouts happening throughout the hall, and Cori watched with amusement as two males faced off in front of her, their practice blades raised at each other. They seemed evenly matched and they both knew it, so they circled each other repeatedly, eyes never breaking contact.
Thoren was standing in front of Cori, his back to her as he watched the same fight. He only allowed the circling for another minute before he stepped closer to them.
“Come on now, ladies,” Thoren said to the two men, “otherwise you’re going to wear right through the mats under your feet.”
Cori hid her grin, before crossing her arms and looking over at another couple, who were grappling, their arms around each other’s heads as they each staggered and tried to gain the upper hand. Cori envisioned herself in that same fight, and how she would get out of the lock hold if it had been her.
She heard the practice blades clashing against each other and she turned back to the fight in front of her and Thoren. A few cheers went up around them, the fight finally starting. They struck again, again, again – and Cori watched their footwork. It was sloppy at best, one of the males appeared to be almost tripping over his own feet as he tried to keep up with the movements of the other.
“Carson,” Thoren said loudly over the sounds of fighting around them, “watch your footwork, keep your feet beneath you and match his steps while on the defensive.”
Someone nudged her side, and she turned to see Gryffin standing next to her, his eyes trained on the swordfighters in front of them.
He sent her a quick wink of those blue eyes, before turning back to the entertainment. “Do I get to watch you next?”
“That depends, are you a fan of quick fights?” Cori said brazenly.
Gryffin chuckled. “Either you’re insinuating that you’re very good… or very bad.”
Cori laughed at that, and Thoren turned briefly to see what she was laughing at, and seeing Gryffin next to her, he raised a hand briefly to him before turning back around, his silver eyes stormy.
“I think you know which one I am,” Cori said to him, a half grin on her lips.
“Then, I think I’d very much like to see that.”
Cori smirked at him. “Then stick around. You will.”
“Go on then, show me that razzle-dazzle,” Gryffin said with a wink.
Cori laughed at that, and then walked forwards a few strides, an extra bounce in her steps as she stopped next to Thoren. He didn’t even glance over at her, but she knew he sensed her presence.
“So,” Cori said, “can I be next?”
She saw the muscles in his jaw work. “You’re not ready yet.”
Cori stared at him incredulously, her mouth hanging open. “What are you talking about? I’m more than ready – I’ve been training my butt off in here.”
Again, he didn’t meet her gaze. “No.”
Indignation was a fiery presence in her chest. “What is your problem? I’ve been sparring with other Legionnaires for weeks – why is today any different?”
He did look at her then, and his gaze softened at the expression on her face. “Yes, you’ve been training hard, and your efforts with sparring have been admirable, but you’ve only won a handful of them.”
Cori reeled, taking a step away from him.
He was embarrassed for her, like he didn’t want her to go out onto those mats and make a fool out of herself in front of everyone.
Cori attempted to maintain her composure as she said between her teeth, “find me an opponent, and I will show you how wrong you are.”
Thoren sighed through his nose and gave a small shake of his head.
“Don’t exclude me from this,” Cori said, stepping closer to him again, her voice a little desperate. Thoren seemed to hear the twinge in her voice, and met her stare again, his expression turning to a frown.
“I’m not trying to exclude you – I’m only trying to…” Thoren trailed off like he didn’t know how to finish that sentence.
“Protect me?” Cori offered, and Thoren looked away from her again, the muscles in his arms flexing as he crossed them tighter over his toned chest. “Well, I don’t need your protection – at least not here, not with this. I want to train, and I want to fight. And whether I win or lose, I’ll just be… part of it.”
He shifted on his feet, as though deliberating.
Then he sighed again, before turning away from her completely. “Ann, you’re up next. Against Cori. Weapons of your choice.”
Ann, a Legionnaire almost five years her senior, nodded at his directive and moved towards a large bin full of dummy weapons.
Cori grinned, and gave Thoren a small shove. “See now, that wasn’t so hard.”
He didn’t smile, and now it was Cori’s turn to sigh.
“Thoren, you need to stop worrying so much.” With that, she strode away from him to find her weapons for the fight. She was determined to prove him wrong.
Not that she would ever admit it to anyone, but she had been holding herself back in all those practice fights these past few weeks. A part of Cori had feared that if she seemed to progress too quickly with her training, that she would be expected to step right back into her old role as a Legionnaire, and she hadn’t been sure she was ready for that step.
She was now.
While living in the East Markets, her grief had always felt like an ocean; deep, dark and unending. But Cori was starting to feel more like her old self with every day that passed, and she felt ready to be a Legionnaire again, without Thoren babysitting her anymore.
She knew that some pieces of her would always feel broken, but Cori had discovered that the part of her that knew how to protect, and guard was still there, whole and undamaged.
So, she wouldn’t be holding herself back anymore.
Cori grinned wickedly as she watched Ann pull out some practice daggers from the bin.
This is going to be fun.
***
Thoren watched as Cori strode away from him and towards Ann.
You need to stop worrying so much.
Thoren wasn’t sure that he was capable of not worrying about Cori. He was worried that she wasn’t ready for a fight that wasn’t merely a training session. He was worried that it would bring back memories of the last time she had been in a serious fight. If he were being honest, he was just as worried for himself as he was for Cori, because he didn’t want to lose her again.
As he had watched her beg to be a part of the fights, he had been unable to resist and had yielded those worries to her imploring eyes. In choosing Ann as her opponent, Thoren certainly wasn’t humouring Cori, either. Ann was a feisty little fighter, one of the better ones.
He watched with a building sense of trepidation, as the fight in front of him ended, without even bothering to watch the two males finish their fight or provide any sort of critique. Instead, he watched as Cori and Ann stepped onto mats, his jaw tightly clenched.
Cori looked completely at ease, her posture relaxed, feet sure, as she moved from foot to foot and shook out her hands and rotated her neck a few times. Then she slid a practice dagger from the belt at her waist and sent Ann a cocky grin as she flipped it in her hands.
Ann was a kind person, Thoren knew, but in the moments before a fight you become someone else entirely, and so she
scowled at Cori before palming two of her own daggers.
A few hoots and hollers rang around them, waiting for the fight to start. Everyone was keen to see Cori back in action – she’d had a reputation as the most promising Legionnaire and most skilled fighter since her very own father. Thoren knew that some of them might be waiting to see if she would fail, after two years away.
The two women, readied to begin, looked to Thoren. Cori was poised on the balls of her feet, a cobra ready to spring into action and strike.
He raised his arm, and he looked between Ann and Cori, ensuring they were ready, before bringing his arm down in a clean arc, signalling for them to begin.
They immediately began to walk in a slow circle, each matching their steps with the other. Thoren wasn’t sure who lead and who followed, but he was impressed by the footwork from both.
Each of them threw a few quick, well-timed, offensive shots at the other, but they both were fast and deflected the blows with ease. Feet continued to circle, and they never took their eyes off one another.
Cori grinned at Ann. “How long more would you like to go for, before I put you flat on your back?”
Ann bared her teeth at Cori. “You’re all talk, so just try it, and we’ll see who ends up on their back.”
Cori scoffed, and they kept matching pace with each other in a slow circling of the mats under their feet.
Then, in a move that made Thoren cringe, Cori shifted her dagger to her right hand – opening up her left flank to be defenceless… and everyone knew that Cori was left-handed because she and her father had been the only ones in the Legion to be so.
It was a stupid move, and Ann knew it, too. She surged forward to attack Cori’s left side, her dagger ready to strike in a way that Thoren knew would leave a serious bruise from impact.
But Ann’s dagger did not make contact.
In fact, the moment Ann had moved forward, Thoren had seen a fierce, almost feral look cross Cori’s face as she twisted her torso at the last second, causing Ann’s dagger to miss by a hair. Then Cori simultaneously grabbed Ann’s attacking hand with her free left hand, swat the dagger away from Ann’s other hand with her own dagger, and then twisted her leg around Ann’s and pushed her upper body forward in a vicious thrust.