The Reluctant Assassin Boxset

by Thomas K. Carpenter

  The way Konig looked at him with hopeful concern made Zayn reply right away.

  "This has been a great class, Instructor Konig. I've learned a ton, and so has the rest of the class. I know my team in particular has talked about how valuable this class is. You've done a great job, and I'd be happy to tell Priyanka that."

  Instructor Konig blushed, looking away. "Why thank you, Mr. Carter, I do appreciate it. Though please don't actually say anything to Priyanka. She'll think I put you up to it."

  "It would be the truth," said Zayn.

  "No, no. It's enough for me to hear it. She has her ways of figuring these things out. If I truly did a good job, she'll know, and if she doesn't, well, it was enough for me to hear it from your mouth. You're been one of our best and brightest, Mr. Carter. It's been an honor to teach you, and maybe someday I'll get a chance to make a difference like you have."

  "Thank you, Instructor Konig," said Zayn, moving towards the door so it didn't get any more awkward.

  "Have a great day, Mr. Carter."

  "You too, Instructor Konig, and have a good time at the ball."

  As Zayn left, he wondered if the instructor's attendance was going to be a complication when he saw them. But there was nothing to do about it now. Zayn had to hope that despite spending his career as a behind-the-scenes logistics planner, the instructor was professional enough not to make a big deal of it.

  Besides, Zayn was distracted thinking about his answer to the Lady's question. He couldn't give up his quest to stop her, but he wasn't sure which method was the best way to get past her seers. He wished he had more time for research, but between The Diamond Eternal Ball and the end of the year, he had to make a decision.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Diamond Court Embassy, May 2016

  No worse than the TSA

  Early the next morning, Zayn and the rest of the "theater company" stood outside the Diamond Court Embassy, in a long line of entertainers that had been booked for the event. He held a black duffle bag of costumes on his shoulder while yawning away his lack of sleep.

  "Stop that, Zayn," said Skylar, fighting back her own yawn. "I actually got to bed at a reasonable time last night."

  He was momentarily distracted by the amber light of morning hitting the top of the Spire, sending up a flash like a lit beacon.

  "Last-minute prep," said Zayn as he eyed Petri in the back of the group. He wasn't at all excited about bringing the Sleeper into the Diamond Court Embassy, but he couldn't turn her away now. He and Skylar had barely pulled her back from the edge a few months ago.

  Skylar caught his glance towards Petri and made a knowing nod. They'd talked about the risks of bringing her, but decided it was a bigger problem not to bring her, especially when their invite had specifically referenced that their play should have no changes. Not taking Petri would have been disastrous on both fronts.

  Petri looked up at the imposing architecture—the gilded scrolling, the massive columns—with her forehead furrowed as she munched on a sesame seed bagel. Zayn interpreted her expression as apprehension, so he approached her.

  "Nervous?"

  She swallowed her bite of bagel. "A little."

  "No need to be," said Zayn. "It's like you've been acting your whole life."

  She flinched slightly at his phrasing. "It's not that." Her gaze flickered to the team as her lips flattened. "The year is almost over, and I feel like nothing's different than when it started. After this is over, you guys won't have any reason to hang out with me."

  Zayn didn't say anything at first, mostly because he didn't want to expose them as students of the Academy, but he realized he couldn't ignore her concerns.

  "I can't deny that our schedules after this are going to be very challenging," said Zayn. "But working with you on the play has been amazing. I don't know how it would work, I don't know how your situation is going to change, but we'd be happy to have you around."

  The others nodded their agreement, but Petri appeared unmoved. Her face was pinched, her eyes dark with worry.

  "It's not that..." she said, her voice trailing off.

  Zayn followed Petri's gaze to find a tall maetrie wearing a brilliant umber robe approaching. The image of molten glass being pulled from an oven appeared in Zayn's head, not only based on what the maetrie was wearing, but the general sense of his personality.

  "The marionette play?"

  Zayn nodded. The maetrie held out his hand, keeping it there until Zayn put the glowing glass ball in it.

  "Follow me."

  They'd been standing in the middle of the line, so he was a little surprised and worried about being pulled ahead of the others in front of them. They received scathing looks from those already waiting. Getting an invite to The Diamond Eternal Ball had become the highest status symbol in the city, especially for entertainers who planned to use it in their marketing, and now they seemed to be getting special treatment, or so he hoped.

  "It's nice we're getting pulled ahead, but the others have been waiting longer," said Zayn, hoping to get an explanation, but the maetrie said nothing.

  The main entrance to the embassy was in the front, but that's not where the maetrie took them. As they circled around to a side entrance, Zayn began to get worried that they'd been spotted as Academy mages and that it'd been foolish for them to think they could just waltz in without extensive disguises.

  The others shared his worry, especially Vin, who made faces at Zayn behind the maetrie's back. When they reached the side entrance, the door opened without anyone touching it, and the maetrie swept his arm towards the revealed darkness.

  "Why the separate entrance?" asked Zayn, nodding back towards the front.

  The maetrie stared back. "If you would like to renounce your invite, I can offer it to another company."

  A spike of worry went right through him. He felt like the maetrie knew who they were and that they'd be walking into a trap if they went in, but he worried more if they didn't go. The others seemed equally concerned, but they gave him nods to show their support.

  "Is there a problem?"

  "No, I, uhm, sorry. Yes, we're ready. It does a lot more for our reputation if we go in the front. I wanted to see the looks on their faces," said Zayn, hoping to cover his initial reluctance.

  "Very well."

  The entrance brought them to a small room with two Diamond Court guardians standing ready, holding wands made of a strange material. It didn't look like wood, but like magnetic filings on an iron rod. Thousands of tiny spikes on the wands shifted in a hypnotic sway.

  When the maetrie in the umber robes saw him eyeing the wands, he said, "To ensure you're not bringing dangerous weapons into the embassy."

  The two guardians waved the wands over Zayn and his black duffle bag. The little spikes moved randomly as the wands were waved over him. When they were finished, they nodded him through. Skylar and Portia went next, quickly getting the approval to pass.

  When it got to Vin, who was carrying a heavy trunk full of their marionette gear and all their magical contraband, the little spikes on the wands pointed directly at the trunk.

  "What's in here?" asked the umber-robed maetrie in a haughty tone.

  "We're a marionette show," said Vin. "It's the ropes and boards we use to create the illusion of being puppets."

  "Show me."

  Zayn's stomach tightened, but he kept his face calm as Vin pulled out a key that was around his neck, placed it in the lock, and turned it to the right until there was a satisfying click.

  The lid wheezed open, revealing a pile of enchanted ropes on top of a stack of black rune-covered boards. As the umber-robed maetrie poked his hand into the ropes his lips curled further towards the floor.

  "Dump it out."

  Grunting for effect, Vin lifted the trunk and tipped it over, spewing metal-ended ropes onto the floor. The maetrie stepped away as if they were snakes.

  The lead maetrie grabbed one of the wands and pointed it back at the trunk. The filings p
ointed into the box.

  "What is in there?" he asked.

  "Those are the enchanted boards we'll attach to the ceiling," said Zayn.

  "Bring them out," said the maetrie.

  "Here?" asked Zayn.

  The umber-robed maetrie nodded while his nostrils flared. He seemed to be staring intently at the trunk as if he knew contraband was hidden inside.

  Zayn nodded towards Vin. "You heard him."

  The big man flipped the trunk over and the boards crashed out, spilling towards the three maetrie, forcing them to leap out of the way or get their ankles smashed. Then Vin handed the trunk to Keelan and Skylar while the others crouched down to collect the boards.

  "You imbeciles," said the lead maetrie, scowling.

  "You asked us to dump it out," said Zayn, stepping close to block the view of Keelan and Skylar, who were quickly removing the box of magical trinkets from a secret compartment in the back of the trunk and stashing it in Skylar's backpack.

  "I said to take them out, not injure my person with your ineptitude," said the lead maetrie, who seemed to sense that something was wrong and tried to look around Zayn.

  "My apologies," said Zayn, reaching out if he were going to shake his hand. "We mistook your command."

  The maetrie looked at the extended hand with unvarnished disgust.

  "Bring me the trunk now," he said, holding up the wand.

  Zayn hadn't heard the signal from Keelan that told him the items were safely away, so he tried to stay in front of the maetrie, but he shoved Zayn to the side.

  "Now," said the maetrie to Keelan, pointing the wand like a rapier.

  Keelan waddled it over, and the wand was stuck into the empty space and moved around. The filings remained their chaotic selves, pointing in all directions, which brought a sense of relief to Zayn, though he did not sigh.

  Crossing his arms, the umber-robed maetrie stared at them as they returned the gear to the trunk. When they were finished, they were led through a series of corridors until they were brought to a small theater. While the marble floors and exquisite scrolling on the bas-reliefs were opulent, the size of the theater confused Zayn. The chairs in the theater seemed made for a child and there were only about twenty.

  "Your quarters are in back," said the maetrie. "The play will begin at one o'clock your time. Do not disappoint me."

  The others seemed equally confused, so Zayn cleared his throat.

  "Is this the correct theater? I thought we would be playing to the prince, his retinue, and the invited," said Zayn.

  The umber-robed maetrie stared down at Zayn, until his lips wriggled with ugly amusement. "The prince, yes, you will be performing for. But not Prince Aethalstar, he will be meeting with his treasured guests. You will be performing for the younger, Prince Orráine. He has heard of your liebereisen play and wishes to be amused by a human's take on it. And after the play is finished, you will be escorted out of the building."

  Giving Zayn no chance to argue, the maetrie swept from the room in his voluminous robes, a high-reedy laughter trailing behind. Zayn's stomach sank with the realization they would be given no chance to stay in the embassy after they were done.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Diamond Court Embassy, May 2016

  A portent of sound and fury

  "What are we going to do?" Vin asked Zayn as they were attaching the black rune-covered boards to the ceiling of the theater scaffolding using a drill.

  Vin was standing on a ladder that Zayn was holding. He could have installed the boards using his imbuements, but they had to keep the illusion that they were just a regular theater company.

  Zayn didn't answer right away even though he knew exactly what Vin meant. It was the main thing on their minds. He could see it on their faces, the tight lips, the worry lines around their eyes. They'd successfully gotten into the embassy, but weren't going to be allowed to stay for the important events.

  "I'll think of something," said Zayn.

  Earlier, he'd tried to explore beyond the theater, but guards had been posted at the exits, and the back area had everything they needed to prepare, which left him no plausible reason to leave.

  And the whole setup made him feel odd. The little theater had all the accoutrements of a larger one, but done in miniature. Even Skylar, who had the smallest hips of the group, couldn't wiggle her way into the seats. As they worked, he noticed more details like the balcony and the loge boxes that were too small for anyone to fit inside.

  When they'd first arrived, Portia pointed out—with far more glee than horror—that the designs in the scrolling were misshapen skeletons and gaping-mouthed skulls. The whole theater had a madhouse feel to it beneath the gilded exterior.

  "It's almost like there were two designers, warring with each other," had said Portia as she'd run her hands across the detailed scrolling.

  Petri, on the other hand, seemed completely muted during their preparations. She was in charge of the makeup desk, and had the most detailed work to paint onto her face, so Zayn hadn't seen her much, but she carried herself with a sense of dread. While it warmed Zayn's heart to know that Petri wasn't ready for the year to be over, that she'd enjoyed her time—however fleeting—with them, he worried about what it meant for her as a powerful supernatural being.

  His worry doubled when he heard a thump of a fist against wood in the back area, followed by a powerful wave of angst that left him cross-eyed for a few painful seconds. Zayn checked to make sure he was still wearing the brass bracelet.

  "Was that...?" asked Vin with his forehead wrinkled.

  "I'm going to check on her," said Zayn.

  Skylar was organizing the costumes, making last-second repairs with a needle and thread while his cousin was painting Portia silver for her role as the mythical Silver Queen. All three of them gave him looks of concern.

  When he found Petri, half her face had the stained glass panels drawn in with a black eyeliner pencil, but she was furiously rubbing away a line on her cheek with a rag.

  "Everything okay?"

  "Does it look okay?" she said, the words coming out like a jet of fire.

  "It looks great, actually," said Zayn, hoping to defuse her frustration.

  He sat next to Petri as she rubbed so hard she made her face contort.

  "You're going to rub your face right off," said Zayn, smiling, but she didn't return the gesture.

  Another wave of emotion slammed into him—fear mixed with a hollow dread. Zayn staggered on his stool. It was like being at the epicenter of an earthquake.

  Her eyes were dark with terror, so he fought through the dread, reached out, and captured her hands, pulling them away from her face. The psychic assault lessened but did not abate.

  "It's going to be okay," said Zayn.

  "No," she said, her voice carrying in his head like a million-watt megaphone. "It's not. I'm changing."

  Her fear was escalating in a feedback loop, spiraling higher and higher. Zayn felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff that was perched in the stratosphere.

  A tear formed in her eye as she looked at him. "Look what I'm doing to you. This is what I'm going to do to everyone. I remember last time. I remember the gas rolling across the battlefield, silencing the men in their trenches forever, tanks bursting through houses in a cloud of debris, storms of unnatural lightning charring men into pillars of ash, the blood and screams when the demons tore from the earth, the children with hollow bellies and eyes. That was me. Zayn, I don't want to be that person again."

  "You won't," said Zayn. "And that wasn't you."

  "You don't know that. You can't know that. I can't, I can't, I can't!"

  Sitting so close to her, he felt his mind tearing apart. It was like standing at the door of a blast furnace. The psychic winds blowing from her were tearing him apart. If she couldn't calm herself, he'd be torn to shreds.

  "Petri. I need you to think about when you're on stage"—a spike of fear—"when the audience is smiling and laughing and all
the world loves you."

  She fought against her feelings, but it wasn't working. His thoughts were beginning to disintegrate.

  "Or think about Marley in your lap while you're eating a bowl of Fruity Fireballs, and Portia is on the other end of the couch singing a song from her favorite K-pop band," said Zayn breathlessly, and as he spoke, her emotional hurricane slowed, giving him a chance to keep going.

  "...and Vin has his leg up on the kitchen table as he's doing one of his limbering exercises while reading a spell book he's holding in his hand. Keelan's sitting on the fireplace hearth, a crackling fire at his back as he's whispering new spells into the tiny gears of an open-backed watch, while Skylar's thumbing through her cellphone snarking on the latest Giovanni Portellenne designs. And I'm—"

  When he referenced himself, a vein of their passionate night together opened briefly, but mostly he felt a keen admiration, like the awkward freshman having a crush on the popular senior, and realized that during this whole year mostly what she'd wanted was his attention.

  "And I'm sitting with you, and you're regaling me with the story of how you stole that car after we left your aunt Amber's store, and you tell me about the hilarious look on my face as you drove away."

  When he finished speaking, the emotional assault had subsided. She reached out, and he took her hand. They sat quietly for a time, during which the others came to check on them, but left without comment.

  After a while, her head came up as if she'd just realized something important.

  "Zayn," said Petri, eyes wide with understanding.

  "Yes?"

  "The Veil."

  A frisson of concern passed through him. "You know what you are?"