The Reluctant Assassin Boxset

by Thomas K. Carpenter

"Is that one of the Clovises?" asked Zayn.

  "Roy," said Keelan.

  The Clovis family lived in the trailer park. Their father worked for the sheriff's office and their mother had died a few years ago to breast cancer.

  "What's the dumbass doing playing with toy cars?" said Keelan. "Ain't he in the grade above you?"

  Zayn nodded. He saw the look in his cousin's eye and he didn't like it.

  "Let's go, Keelan," said Zayn. "I'm hungry and I really want to wash this blood off my arm."

  "Give me a sec," said Keelan, jogging towards Roy Clovis, who was facing away from them.

  "Keelan," Zayn said under his breath, but he ran to catch up.

  "Hey Roy, what ya doing?" asked Keelan, holding the shirt in both hands in front of him.

  "Oh, hey, Keelan right?" asked Roy with a soft smile. "Just killing time. Wanna join me?"

  "I do," said Keelan with a hard edge.

  Zayn saw what was going to happen before it did. He tried to reach his cousin first, but Keelan opened the shirt, slinging the spider at the Clovis boy.

  Roy didn't understand what had happened until he looked down and saw the purple-veined spider crawling up his chest, and then he started screaming.

  "It's one of the Lady's spiders," said Keelan, "so don't kill it or she'll come after you."

  His face etched with horror, Roy cried, "Get it off, get it off, get it off," as his hands hovered above the spider, which was leisurely making its way up his chest.

  Zayn pushed his cousin. "What are you doing? Get it off him."

  There was a perverse, almost strangled look in Keelan's eyes. As if he knew he shouldn't be doing this, but couldn't stop himself. Zayn had seen the look in his uncle's face after he'd hit Keelan, which since they'd gotten older, only happened when no one was around.

  "If you want it off, you do it," said Keelan, pushing him back, then running away in the opposite direction, neither towards his trailer or the Stack, as if he were too ashamed to be seen by anyone after what he'd done.

  Roy's screams had grown louder, and Zayn was afraid some adults might come investigate. Using the shirt he pulled from the back of his pants, Zayn knocked the spider off his chest. The critter had two broken legs when it hit the concrete. Zayn stomped it, putting it out of its misery.

  He looked up in time to see Roy throwing a punch, hitting him in the shoulder.

  "What the hell? I got it off you," said Zayn.

  "He's your cousin and you gotta remember there is more of us than of you and him," said Roy, wiping his tears with the back of his arm.

  "But I didn't do it," said Zayn, holding his arms out.

  "You didn't stop him either," said Roy, and he marched back towards the trailer park, leaving Zayn alone with a smashed spider beneath his shoe.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Uncle Larice's bodega, March 2014

  Three parts trouble, vision not included

  Zayn was snoring at the counter in the bodega. He'd been this way for the past half hour, and it didn't help the full body ache he had from the encounter with Sparky. Zayn let his fake snore rise in crescendo, before falling away to a breathy hiss.

  Sparky had given them a few leads on where the drug was coming from, and they'd all agreed that they would keep an eye out.

  He was so focused on his deception, he almost didn't hear the door slip open, or the pad of silent, soft feet. Zayn waited a full minute before popping up and scurrying over to the door. The callolo, sensing the trap, leapt, but Zayn was already there.

  The orange tabby hissed at him, and if Zayn hadn't been paying attention, he might have missed the creature's hands turning into cat's paws.

  When Zayn reached into his pocket, the callolo arched its back, its eyes darting for a route to escape. Zayn started to worry when the domestic cat paws transformed into nasty feral bobcat claws.

  He yanked the chocolate bar from his pocket and brandished it like a weapon.

  The callolo's olive green eyes narrowed. Zayn waved the chocolate bar.

  "This is for you," he said. "I want to be friends."

  Then he slowly set the chocolate bar on the ground and moved behind the counter.

  As soon as he wasn't blocking the callolo's escape, it leapt forward, grabbed the chocolate bar, and slipped out the door. Zayn didn't know what the people on the street would make of an orange tabby with a chocolate bar in its tiny hands.

  Zayn locked up the store and went after the callolo. It wasn't hard to follow, at least for the first two blocks. Since the weather had warmed, the city was laden with tourists. He only had to follow the direction they were staring, incredulous looks on their faces.

  After jogging another couple of blocks, the easy trail ended. Zayn pulled a divining rod from his back pocket and waited for it to tug him in a direction. He'd placed a enchantment on the chocolate bar and linked it to the rod.

  The tugging pulled him across the street to the park where he'd set up as the Statue of Liberty on his first challenge. A skating rink had been built onto the pond; it wasn't cold enough, but magic could do wonderful things.

  The chase led him around the skating rink and the mermaid statue. He passed the old woman with her cat on a leash. She was talking with a young man in a hoodie. When the trail came out the other side of the park, he wondered if the callolo had tricked him.

  A few people gave him funny looks, but he ignored them and kept following. The callolo was leading him on a big circular route. Zayn was worried the creature was headed back to the bodega when the trail stopped cold. He craned his head in all directions, looking for the orange tabby, only to find a torn chocolate wrapper by the curb.

  Zayn confirmed it was the bar that he'd given to the creature. He wasn't disappointed, since he wasn't even sure befriending the creature would work. The information he'd found about them was thin. They'd been originally bred to hunt therianthropes like werewolves, but like most well-intentioned breeding programs, life found a way, and enough of them escaped to form colonies. They tended to live in packs of five or ten, laying claim to a small town, and moving around in the form of cats or raccoons. People often thought that raccoons were smart because they could get into cabinets and garages, but those were usually the shape-shifting callolo. The solo callolo was rare, which was why Zayn thought he might be able to befriend it. They were highly intelligent, though typically kept to scavenging and thieving.

  On the way back to the bodega, he was busy thinking about how he might track the callolo again, when he saw a woman who looked a lot like Instructor Pennywhistle get out of a ghost taxi outside a bookstore called Howling Madwoman Fortunes and Spells. At first he wasn't sure if he was mistaken, but then he saw her walk and knew it had to be her. She'd modified her appearance enough to appear different at first glance. She carried a package, tucked against her side.

  He stood back while she went into the store. She stayed inside for a few minutes before leaving, heading the opposite direction. She still had the package when she left.

  Curious, Zayn approached the bookstore and peered through the glass. He couldn't see anyone. He thought for a long moment about whether or not he should go inside. If she found out he'd been spying on her, it wouldn't go well for him. But on the other hand, he'd never really understood why she'd deceived him about the imbuement bandage.

  He went inside. The shelves were filled with books: magical histories, biographies, picture books of spell effects, and so on. There was a rotating kiosk with necklace charms, the same crap sold in every other store in Invictus. Further in the back was a big glass case with ancient-looking tomes in them. They were probably worthless, distressed to look old for know-nothing tourists.

  He didn't see another customer anywhere. He was about to head deeper into the store when a woman addressed him.

  "Can I help you?"

  Zayn could have sworn that no one was at the counter a moment before.

  "Hey, I was just checking your store out."

  The woman was
middle-aged, with straight black hair, and wore a Rolling Stones T-shirt. She had multiple piercings on her eyebrow, a nose ring, and a tattoo of a Mexican sugar skull on her neck. She had other tattoos on her arms, but the way she looked directly through him made it hard to look away.

  Zayn pointed to his neck. "Day of the Dead? Are you...?"

  In an East Coast accent, she replied, "Choctaw. I like skulls."

  "Oh," he said, feeling embarrassed by what he'd implied.

  "Can I help you?" she asked again with no change of expression on her face. A little nameplate clipped to her shirt read, "Snow Owl."

  "I...don't know, Snow Owl."

  She looked down at her chest as if she'd forgotten she was wearing the nameplate. "The name is Amber DeCroix." Her forehead creased. "Are you looking for someone?"

  "No. Just browsing."

  "Do you need a reading or need to talk to the dead?" she asked.

  "A reading?"

  She frowned. "Yeah, like a fortune."

  When he hesitated, her lips came together as if she were growing suspicious.

  "Yeah, a reading. Sorry," he said. "I'm a little spacey today."

  "Give me your hand," she said.

  Her grip was strong. She held his wrist with one hand and spread his palm with the other.

  He heard talking in back, and was turning to see if anyone was there when he felt a sharp prick on his palm.

  "Ow, that hurt," he said, and tried to pull away, but she had him held tight.

  A fat bead of blood was building up on his palm. Zayn grew worried that he'd made a mistake in allowing the reading, and that she wasn't human as he'd first thought. While most supernatural creatures didn't dare attack humans, especially in the city of sorcery, where there would be swift reprisal, it did occasionally happen.

  Amber pulled his hand to her mouth. He fought it the whole way, but she was considerably stronger than he was. When her tongue darted out to lap up his blood, he expected something inhuman coming out of her mouth, but it appeared to be a human tongue.

  When she was finished, she let go of his wrist. He rubbed the life back into it. He'd thought she was going to read the lines in his palm or something like that. His only experience with a seer was the Goon, and he only had visions that affected himself.

  Amber said, "Pottery," by way of explanation for her strong grip. Then she closed her eyes and turned her head a little, as if she were sifting through information from his blood.

  After a good half a minute, she said, "Oh, shit."

  When she opened her eyes, she looked upon him with pity. If it were an act, it was a pretty good one.

  "I saw three visions, which is unusual," she said in a manner as if she were explaining how much it was going to cost to get a car fixed. "In the first, I saw your hands covered in blood after killing a man."

  "Who was he?" asked Zayn, thinking about Priyanka's question.

  "I couldn't see his face, but his life was tangled in webs."

  The Lady, he thought. When he was finished with his learning he would be hers to command. Whatever doubts he had about Amber the Choctaw's ability to read his future was washed away with the involvement of the Lady.

  "The second?" he asked softly, as if his voice might break glass.

  "Heartache," she said, her face wracked with emotion as if she had experienced whatever he was destined to. "I'm sorry. Any attempts at a relationship will only end in tragedy, maybe not at first, but eventually. There will be moments of happiness, but in the end, you are destined to be alone."

  "That can't be true, you can't have seen all that," he said.

  She ignored him and spoke about the third vision, growing visibly distressed as she said, "I tasted death in your blood. So much death. I don't understand." She shook her head, looking him directly in the eyes. "Who are you?"

  "No one important," he said, and heard more voices gathering in back, or maybe inside his head, he wasn't sure. "I should go. How much do I owe you?"

  "Nothing. But never come back here. Ever."

  Zayn left the Howling Madwoman Fortunes and Spells, feeling Amber's gaze upon him until he was around the corner. While he'd been in the store, the power of her reading had left him somber. But as he made his way back to the bodega, that feeling of oppression left him, and the certainty that he'd felt at the reading was truly gone.

  By the time he returned to the bodega, finding Uncle Larice behind the counter, he'd forgotten the reading.

  Uncle Larice's wrinkled dark skin held shadows around his eyes. "You know you're not supposed to be wandering the city."

  "It's okay, Uncle Larice. I'm trying to solve your orange tabby problem," said Zayn.

  Uncle Larice didn't look like he believed him. He gave the closed door a long look, sighed and said, "I know what you're learning in that hall. I've had enough of you working in my store to understand, and to know when you've been lying to me. And you are. I won't tell Carron about it, I like you too much, and not just because you've doubled my business this last month. But know that he is a hard man, and that hall is hard business. If he says something, you do it. Don't mess around. I don't want to see you get hurt."

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Near the Glitterdome, March 2014

  Datus interuptus

  After a spate of storms had blown through Invictus, Zayn was in the second ward on a date with Katie. It was the first weekend Zayn had felt safe enough with his team's position in the hall that he could take some time to explore the city. It was also the first time he'd seen her since their kiss.

  Tourists were out in full force, snapping pictures at every building as if they were about to sprout arms. The clear day made the Spire visible from the outer wards. It was a tall tower of glass and steel rising above every other structure in the city. When Zayn looked at it, he imagined the city as a giant wheel.

  "What do you want to do now? There's a Garbage Kings concert tonight at the Glitterdome. I hear they have a killer show with illusionary mock battles over the crowd and mass audio charms to make you think you're hearing voices in your head. I'm sure we could score some tickets from a street vendor," said Katie.

  Her hair was in a bright blue Mohawk and her lips glowed faintly. Zayn resisted the urge to reach out and tussle her hair.

  "I've really never understood the appeal," he said.

  "What about ice skating? There's a park nearby. I love the way the blades cut across the ice like worms," she said.

  "Honestly, I'm happy just wandering around without something to do," he said.

  "Okay," she said, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets. "But you seem distracted. I thought you were taking me out on a date, but you've barely talked."

  He glanced sheepishly at his shoes. He'd been thinking about how he was going to get his named coin from Instructor Allgood. It seemed like everyone had theirs except him.

  "Sorry. I haven't really seen the city, and it's a bit overwhelming," he said, which was mostly true. A good lie, Instructor Pennywhistle taught, contained enough truth that you could sell it honestly.

  He bit his lower lip. "How's da band?"

  "Great," she said, brightening at his question. "We're booked into the summer. That show at the High Dragon really kicked things into gear for us. We've played every weekend since. The only problem is our manager says we need to up the stage show to make it to the next level. Tours are expensive and we don't have the money for travel yet, but we don't want to get stuck in the small venues for the rest of our lives."

  "That reminds me," said Zayn. "I did not know you could do magic. Isn't that dangerous without a patron?"

  "That's just Hall propaganda so they can keep their monopoly on magic," said Katie with considerable distaste. "It's not like I don't think that faez madness is a thing, but you have to use a ton of magic for that to happen. A few concert enhancements won't hurt me."

  "Just to make sure, this is your ability, right? Not something else?" he asked.

  "No, what are you ta
lking about?" she asked.

  He studied her face. It appeared she was being truthful.

  "Nothing," he said.

  He felt relieved even though he knew he shouldn't have been. Using magic without a patron was dangerous in itself, though the negative effects didn't come on as rapidly. But he didn't actually know how much magic was too much when it came to faez madness. He'd been protected from that since he'd been given the Lady's poison, so it was never something he gave much thought.

  "Can you do magic?" she asked with a hopeful glint to her eyes.

  "No. Dry as a bone," he said as they passed the Orpheum Theater with its glittering lines and theatrical posters. "But it would be nice, right?"

  "Totally," said Katie. "What hall would you join if you could?"

  "I have not really thought about it," said Zayn.

  "Oh, come on. Everyone thinks about it, even if they don't have a speck of magic. Especially if they don't have a speck of magic. I would join the Daring Maids for sure," she said.

  "What? Not Stone Singers or the Dramatics?" he asked, nodding towards the Orpheum Theater for extra emphasis.

  "No way. The Stone Singers are just civil engineers with perfect pitch, and the Dramatics are...well...too drama for me. They're not real enough. And I think it's awesome what the Maids do in poor countries, protecting young women from those creepy-ass terrorists."

  The way her eyes lit up, Zayn believed that she would join the Maids if she could. He'd seen pictures of the Maids before, striding streets filled with rubble, ghostly armor protecting them from a hailstorm of bullets. Zayn imagined Katie busting through a concrete wall to save a bunch of kids from kidnappers.

  "What about you?" asked Katie, studying him intently.

  He'd been truthful when he'd said that he hadn't really thought about it, but he said the first thing that came to mind. "The Animalians, I think. It would be cool to talk to animals, live amongst them. Somehow I think they would be not as messed up as we are."

  The way the smile spread across her face told him that his answer was to her approval. She hooked her arm around his and squeezed.