by Arthur Slade
“Then what do we do? He is an emperor, after all.”
“You leave that to the maestrus to decide. Answer me this: who is now next in line for the throne?”
I paused only for a moment. “His nephew Sargon.”
“Yes. Good. He is a ruthless man. He did such a fine job in hunting down the magicians when they were outlawed in Akkad. Though, I grieve for our part in winnowing down their numbers. The emperor has put Sargon in charge of the Immortals. Having such elite soldiers pursue this assassin means the emperor will leave no stone unturned. But we are hunting too.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because this assassin has killed a child.”
“And what is the punishment for that?” The assassin textbooks had never given me that information.
Maestru Alesius grimaced. “A horrible death,” he said somewhat sadly. Then he raised his hand. “I have work to do, Carmen. Please take the egg to the swannery. And congratulations. You will take your place with your fellow graduates and wear the official cloak of the Red Adept Assassins. You have exceeded all my expectations.”
“I am pleased to hear that, Maestru Alesius.”
But he was already reading his papers. I let myself out of his study.
11
A Good Name
I was becoming attached to the egg. I liked holding it and feeling my own warmth keep it alive. I continued up the stairwell, again watching my step. This time a few of my fellow students in the main hallway did see me carrying the egg. And, I was certain, there was shock and perhaps jealousy in their eyes.
Good, I thought. And I couldn’t prevent a smile from coming to my lips.
A few steps later, Thord came around a corner. He stopped and said nothing but bowed grandly as I passed. This time, I was the one who blushed. Why was someone with his looks being so kind to me? He had to see some advantage to it. But what could it be?
I had promised him a story, but now was not the time to tell it. And I couldn’t let him know about every scaly detail.
I quickened my pace but nearly dropped the egg when a hand grabbed me just as I turned toward the lifts. The hand had come from my left side, of course.
“There you are,” my brother said. He held me steady and gave me an up-and-down glance. “You look awful. But thankfully that egg distracts anyone from noticing.” I’d long ago learned to ignore his harsh comments. Often, something nice would come out next. “I knew you could do it, Carmen. You have guts. That’s one thing you’re not missing.”
“Unlike my eye.”
“I didn’t mean that as a dig—don’t be so sensitive—it’s just that you keep going, no matter what. Whoever hires you will be lucky.” He put his hand on the egg. I resisted pulling it away. “It’s warm. So much life in there. And power. Just think of how hard our assassin lives would be without the black swans to deliver us to our kills. Imagine an army of assassins on swans. Now that would be something!” He tapped the egg. “Amazing creatures.”
“They are,” I said, pulling the egg back. I had seen something even more amazing with wings. “But that’s not the most wonderful thing I saw. I—”
I caught myself. I’d almost mentioned Brax.
“You saw what?” he asked.
“Nothing. Just the moon. It glowed over the mountains. It was just like a painting.”
“Oh. The moon. How exciting,” he said as drolly as possible. “The things that excite you are, well, cute.”
“It was a beautiful scene.” I didn’t want to imagine what he’d do if I’d let it slip about Brax. Then I noted that he had a cut above his eye. It was a straight line, which I knew meant a bladed weapon. “What’s that from?”
He grinned. “My juggling skills are not up to par.” He mimed himself juggling then covering his eye. “I’ll be more careful next time. You’ve heard the news about the emperor’s welp.”
“Yes. It’s horrible.”
“Horrible for us, you mean. It’s a very precarious time to be an assassin. You be sure to take care of yourself. Keep an eye out.” He slapped his forehead. “I don’t mean that as another dig.”
I spoke through gritted teeth. “It’s hard to tell with you.”
“Let it go, sis. The good news is that you and I will graduate in three days. And I’m sure all these problems with the emperor will soon be solved. After all, we wouldn’t want to lose our best client.” He patted my shoulder. “I’m so proud of you.” Then he was gone.
I stepped into the nearest lift and pulled down the lever for the swannery level. There were rumors that students who broke school rules were forced to pull the lifts up and down, but I had read that the lifts were controlled by a series of underground pulleys, powered by watermills.
Soon I was on the second from the top level of the fortress. I went to the door to the swannery, opened it with one hand, and was hit with the overpowering stink of swan dung. There were rows and rows of stables, where black swans sat on their straw nests waiting for their riders. The best and biggest swans would be bound to their assassins by a process called imprinting, so they wouldn’t leave even if the gates were left open. Other swans were trained to accept any human rider.
I had cleaned those stalls a thousand times in my lifetime. And I absolutely loved the feeling of warmth and closeness inside the place. And I was always impressed by the intelligence of the swans.
It was important, of course, to never anger them. Their beaks were sharp.
Maestru Arvid, the keeper of the swannery, was waiting for me, as if he’d known I was coming. He saw the egg and a wide, toothy smile split his bearded face. He gently took the egg from me. “Oh, this is a good one, an excellent one! We will raise her to be strong.”
“Maestru Alesius said it was a he.”
“Maestru Alesius is always correct, except with anything concerning swans. This is a girl. Now name her.”
“Carnda,” I said immediately.
“Oh. A good name! You chose it so quickly.”
“It was my mother’s name,” I said.
“Ah, good, good. Well, you have brought Carnda to a wonderful home. Thank you; now you may go.” Then, without even giving me a chance to say good-bye to the egg, he closed the door.
I was surprised that I felt so disappointed. Were you going to kiss the egg good-bye?
12
Things Come, Things Go
I took the lift down to the student dormitory level then followed the long winding hallways. I had no memories of my mother or my father. Both my parents had died in a fire, as far as I knew. I wasn’t even certain what they did for a living or which country they came from.
“You are our children now,” Maestru Alesius had explained once when I pressed him about my parents. “The past is wiped clean.”
I only knew my mother’s name because Corwin had snuck into the records office and saw that it was written down above our own names. My father was Ector Dore.
I went to the showers. No one else was there, which didn’t surprise me since it was already midmorning. I was pleased to have the place to myself. The water was always cold, but I was able to clean off the sweat and wash out all the cuts. The bruise that circled my arm was growing slightly darker.
I thought I could smell the dragon scent being sloughed off. For some reason, that made me feel a little bit sad.
I actually relaxed under the cold blast of the shower. I hadn’t even taken a moment to enjoy the fact that I would be graduating and getting the red cloak of an assassin. I was not going to be at the top of the rolls as I had imagined years ago, but I would be an assassin. The gates would open in three days, and all fifteen of the graduates would walk out to start our own shops.
I knew that Banderius, the most famous of assassins, had his own palace in Trella. I bet the water was hot in his home. He was said to dine only on chocolate caviar, rare crocodile meat, and fine wines. The other recurring rumor about him was that he had grown soft.
I wrapped myself in towels and went b
ack to my room, feeling quite refreshed despite the fact that I’d been out the whole night. There was still time to visit the library before attending afternoon classes.
After dressing and switching my eye patch, I made my way to the library. An impressive set of spiral stairs led down into a giant room with rows and rows of book-stuffed shelves. There were tomes on every poison and every creature in existence. This included the tracks they made, how to imitate those tracks, their smells, even their calls to fool our prey. There was even a chapter in one book on recreating fox droppings to throw suspicious soldiers off your trail. I hoped I’d never have do that.
I loved this room. All of those words waiting there for me to read. I had spent so much time here, often reading until my eye was dry. Today, I wandered the stacks, passing by Weremonsters of Yore and Lore of Lodenstones, until I came across Here Be Dragons.
I’d never seen the title before. I hefted the book from its shelf and brought it over to an empty table and carefully flipped it open.
The illustrations inside were startling in their detail. The dragons were drawn from the tips of their snouts to the tips of their tails, with every talon and scale in between. I found a long list of dragon types, though most were only rumored to exist because dragons lived far away from human lands.
I finally came to a chapter about Scythian dragons. The image that had been drawn was much larger than Brax, which meant perhaps he was not full grown. But this beast had the same black wings and black-as-night scales. Ebony dragons were rare, according to the description. And they could release both a poison gas and a flame. Here I was worried about being burned to death when I could have easily been poisoned. I kept reading. The Scythians were perhaps the most intelligent of the dragon species.
I skipped ahead. The book went on for pages about the shape of their scales and included an article on how to skin a variety of dragons and use their organs for potions. Their teeth could become part of powerful ward spells. I was glad I hadn’t told Maestru Alesius. I trusted him, but he would have done what was best for the assassin school. A good stock of dragon parts would be a treasure trove.
Finally, I came to a section about regeneration. The Scythians could grow back their tails, their talons, their ears—nearly every part of their body. Unless, of course, you cut off their head.
The regenerative blood of Scythian dragons had been sought by emperors and kings who wanted to extend their lives and their reigns. None had succeeded. There was even a wizard who’d removed a Scythian leg and attached it to his own missing leg. It was said to have grafted itself there, and so he attached another leg and an arm. It didn’t explain what happened to his original arms. But the dragon blood eventually drove him mad, and he jumped off a cliff believing he could fly. He didn’t magically grow wings on the way down, and he died.
That was insanity. But people would do anything for power. I kept reading and came across an interesting passage that I then read several times:
The Scythians are powerful magical creatures. But they are also oath bound—if they swear an oath, they will keep it until they are dead. There are rumors that these dragons can grant three wishes. These are not true.
Of course, they weren’t. But—
“What are you reading?” a woman asked.
I shuddered. I glanced up to see Maestru Beatrix, the keeper of the library. She was a short, pudgy woman with the most amazing blue eyes. Her hair was gray and tied back by a black ribbon. “Oh, nothing. This book just caught my eye,” I said.
“Books do that, don’t they?”
I nodded. We’d had a thousand conversations about the importance of books. Maestru Beatrix was so happy that one of the assassin students was actually a reader.
“Ah, the Scythian dragon. An interesting topic. Are you writing a piece about them for extra marks?”
“No. I just picked the book up. I don’t have a particular interest. I really don’t.”
“It’s fine to be interested in dragons. As you know, I trade books with other libraries in the Five Realms. That book is a relatively new addition. One can never have too many books. Or read too many books.”
“That’s true.” Normally, I would ask to see all the new books, but I held my tongue. I wanted to keep reading.
“You seem extra intense today, Carmen,” Beatrix said. “Is it the news of the emperor?”
“Yes. Yes.”
“Don’t worry. These things come and go. Take that from someone who has read every historical text written. We’ll find who is behind the murder of his child, and that assassin will be punished in a very public way.” She didn’t say this with any relish, only stating a fact. “And that will go a long way to correcting this matter.”
“That’s good to know.”
“Now is there anything else I can help you with?” Maestru Beatrix asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Do you happen to have any new books on spells?”
13
A Frozen Moment
I read spell books until my eye grew dry. I was getting close to giving up when I found a short chapter on enchanted chains and bindings. At the very end of the description was a word and hand gesture that were often used together to unlock locks. The word was enderos. The chapter made it sound like even a beginning apprentice enchanter could master this spoken spell.
I wasn’t an enchanter and had only been taught a few easy spells to erase footprints or scents. But I had a good memory and was always willing to try. Perhaps if I spoke the word aloud as I tried to pick the lock, I would succeed.
“Enderos,” I said aloud. It did sound magical.
I wondered what Brax was doing with his time. Was he reading the books in his cave for the thousandth time? Could he use his own flames to see the pages? I knew that the smell of the dead mercenaries would keep anything but the bravest carrion birds away.
I closed the book and put it back in place, running my hands along the shelves as I walked back toward the entrance.
“You carry the library with you wherever you go,” Maestru Beatrix had once said. I knew it was true.
The afternoon bell rang three times, which meant I would have to rush to get to Pressure Points class. Time always ran by far too quickly in the library.
I slid into my place at the table just before Maestru Olgra turned around to face the class. “Well, well,” she said. “This will be our final class. I will miss your ugly faces.” She had spent the last eight years teaching us the various points of the body that would knock someone out, stop their heart, or collapse their lungs. We had memorized the exact locations of livers, hearts, spleens, certain vertebrae, and nerve endings. “For our final class I would like you to choose a partner and explore the various nerve points in each other’s hands.”
My heart sank. I hated having partners, especially since I didn’t like any of the other assassins. Since there was an odd number of us, that meant someone always had to partner with Maestru Olgra. She was known to put students in pain with a thumb pinch for weeks—just to teach a lesson. I’d long given up trying to partner with Corwin. He preferred to be with Scyllia or Gregum.
Thord began walking toward me, and I sucked in a breath. He would be better than Maestru Olgra, though I didn’t like the idea of exploring his hands for nerve points. Or even holding hands with him. It was just too personal.
My hands were suddenly sweaty.
Just as he was about to come close enough to say something to me, Megan sat down across from me, effectively blocking him. Thord turned away.
“Uh, hello,” I said.
“I’d like to be your partner.” Megan flipped her red hair back over her shoulder. She had what looked like a friendly smile on her face. At least she hadn’t said I’d like to be your partner, Cyclops.
“Um. Yes. If you must.”
“Good. Good.” We joined hands, and I wasn’t surprised to discover that Megan’s palms were rough. She worked hard, especially at her hand-to-hand fighting. She wasn’t the smartest of the
graduating class, but she made up for that with tenacity. “I was not very observant this morning,” Megan said. It almost sounded like an apology. “I was shocked by the news of the emperor princeling’s death. Only later did it dawn on me that you were carrying a swan egg. That’s amazing. How did you get it?”
“I went to the swan nesting ground in a swan outfit and stole it.” I thought it best to keep the story simple.
“Oh, why?”
“To get points. To pass.”
“Impressive!” she said. And she really did look impressed. “That’s very brave. And did you get the points?”
“Yes.”
“So, you will be the first assassin with only one eye to graduate?” She didn’t seem to intend this as an insult. It was a genuine question.
“I don’t know.”
“I bet you are. That’s something. You’re in the historical records now. Congratulations!”
“Um. Thank you.”
She continued to stare at me. “I was just thinking about how that eye patch makes you look.”
I tightened my grip, but Megan didn’t seem to notice. “How does it make me look?”
“Older. I mean not too old. But like you’ve done stuff. It makes you look experienced. I think we should be partners once we’ve graduated.”
My mouth popped open in shock. I quickly shut it. “P-partners?”
“Yes. Partners. New assassins often team up. You have better scores than me on all the potions and poisons and stuff. And you will look good at the front.”
“The front?”
“Yes,” she said, now sounding very excited. “I’ve really thought it out. I’m so proud of myself.” Her smile showed perfect teeth. She had a perfect face too. I kind of hated the fact that nothing was out of place. “You see, people will trust you. I mean not to do their missions, but you can speak to them about everything that an assassin does. And the way you look, that will be helpful for anyone who approaches our business. They talk to you, then they hire me to finish the job. We will make a perfect team.”