The Third Eye Initiative

by J. J. Newman

  In the light of the torchlight, Aedrus had realized two things about the man. First, those weren’t ropes hanging from the man’s belly, they were his intestines. And second, he recognized him. He had seen him with Doctor Giant.

  It was the one-eyed man with white hair.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Light as Air

  The stage was set and Market Square was packed with curious citizens, all wanting be a part of the big event. Tsaeris stood in the crowd with Tyrier, who was engaged in conversion with a man Tsaeris didn’t know. Tyrier was obviously a friend of the man and his red haired kid, as they all seemed very familiar with each other.

  Tsaeris studied the stage, particularly the cloaked man, who Tsaeris deduced must be the elf. He couldn’t make out any details under the hood, and he figured a reveal would come soon enough.

  Before the event started, Elias approached Tsaeris from within the crowd. “Time to get to work,” he said softly so only Tsaeris could hear him. Tsaeris nodded a goodbye to Tyrier and followed Elias away.

  The two men made their way past the gathered people and exited through the back of the crowd. The Market square was a literal square, walled in by houses and shops with a single entrance. Elias and Tsaeris disappeared into an alley behind one of the bordering buildings.

  “So, what’s the plan?” Tsaeris asked.

  “Niivi and you are covering the rooftops. The buildings are all connected save for the entrance gap, which is why we need two people up there. Telyn and I will cover the alleys and we have other agents in the crowd. Hopefully we’ll catch anything before it happens.”

  “I know I’m going to get a smack for this, but why do we care?” Tsaeris asked.

  “This alliance is important, and to stop it would not be...” Elias began, but Tsaeris finished for him. “In alignment with The Third Eye Initiative purpose, gotcha. Whatever the hell that means. Next time, just tell me it’s none of my business. Getting pretty tired of the official response.”

  “If you know the answer, why even bother?” Elias asked.

  “On the off chance that I might get a straight answer for once.” Tsaeris knew he shouldn’t be pushing this.

  “You’re a novice, Tsaeris. A novice...” Elias stopped as Tsaeris began reciting the ‘novice is not privy to that information’ explanation right back at him. “Alright, enough. We don’t have time for this. If you see anyone on those rooftops, you take them down. Understand? No questions asked.”

  “What if it’s just a thief or another agent?”

  “No agent will be on those rooftops, and if it’s a thief then so be it. We can’t take any chances. You find somebody up there, they die. Now go. And try not to be seen.”

  Tsaeris nodded, turned and leaped straight up grabbing a windowsill above him. Once positioned on the sill, he reached up and grasped the edge of the roof and pulled himself up. The climb took him only a few seconds.

  Tsaeris was wearing a white tunic, pants, cloak and cap. It looked a tad ludicrous, but wasn’t particularly suspicious looking while on the ground, and blended in perfectly with the white snow on the shingles of the rooftops. He laid face first on the slanted roof, peaking over the top. He could see the square laid out before him, and most of the rooftops. He assumed Niivi was covering the rooftops that were outside his direct view.

  He scanned the crowd for suspicious activity. There were so many people down there that it would be next to impossible to locate any strange activity, and Tsaeris hoped idly that there were a lot of agents down there. Master Henning’s loud voice echoed through the square, but Tsaeris wasn’t listening to him.

  His eye was taking in details both large and small. He saw the remains of a birds nest in the eves, and he noticed old cracks in the shingles that were made by somebody walking or running on the roof. He saw no sign of activity yet, but he did not allow himself to grow complacent.

  His attention was diverted from the rooftops when he heard Henning introduce the elf named Bel. Tsaeris stared at Bel in shock. It was the old elf who had passed him in the street, the one whose grin had made him feel slightly ill. He resolved to see what he could find out about the elf when he was back with Elias.

  He turned his attention back to the rooftops and cursed softly for letting himself get distracted like that. There was a man lying belly down on the roof ten yards or so to his left. The man must have climbed up while Tsaeris was staring at the elf like an idiot. The man was aiming a crossbow.

  Tsaeris figured, and hoped, that he still had time. If he were the elf-hating assassin here to kill the elf on stage, he would wait until the end of the speech for dramatic effect. He hoped the elf was as long winded as Henning.

  Worm-like, Tsaeris belly crawled silently but as quickly as he could manage toward the assassin. He was relieved to see that although the crossbow had been cranked, a bolt had yet to be loaded. He still had time. The man seemed to be preoccupied with the positioning of the crossbow.

  Five yards away now, the man finally loaded the bolt and looked down the sights of the weapon. Time was running out. Tsaeris was sweating despite the cold. He was close, and the man was still unaware of his presence.

  He reached the side of the man quickly enough, his head facing the mans booted feet, and the assassin still had no idea that he was even in danger. Silent and swift, Tsaeris rose to his knees, and lifted a leg over the man’s back, straddling him.

  Before the man could cry out, Tsaeris had one hand cupped tightly around his mouth. Another hand produced a long thin needle that he quickly shoved into the man’s ear, and through his brain. The man thrashed between Tsaeris’ thighs, but after a viscous and hard push of the needle the man stiffened and went still. Tsaeris removed the needle, and wiped off the blood and tiny chunks of brain matter onto the dead man’s cloak.

  Blood poured in large spouts from the man’s ear and Tsaeris’ gear was quickly stained with it. He knew he would have to dispose of the white clothes before going back into the streets. He had stashed a bag of his street clothes for just that purpose in a nearby sewer.

  Tsaeris removed the bolt from the crossbow, to avoid any possible accident, and then continued to scan the rooftops. Henning was still talking, and Tsaeris glanced down at the stage again, despite vowing not to get distracted again. For a moment, it seemed that the elf on stage made eye contact with him, and he felt his chest tighten with panic. He would be hard pressed to explain himself to the Watch were he discovered up here next to a corpse and crossbow while covered in blood. The old elf looked away casually a moment later, and raised no alarm. Tsaeris guessed that he was just being paranoid, and brought his attention back to the roof.

  The event on stage concluded without any other incident. Either the Purity Union had counted on this lone assassin, or the other agents had stopped the other attempts. Either way, Tsaeris was done.

  He made his way back down to the alley, and lifted a sewer grate close by. He climbed down into the darkness and recovered his pack from a hidden alcove in the brick wall. Bracing himself for the cold, he quickly removed the blood stained clothes and hid them in the alcove. He put on a pair of brown pants, a long gray woolen jacket and a brown autumn cloak. He strapped his short sword onto his back on top of the jacket and beneath the cloak. The hilt stuck out from behind the thin cloak at his left shoulder. He wished he had his wolf fur cloak, but he never would have been able to fit it in the alcove.

  He climbed back up the ladder, made sure the alley was still empty, then pulled himself out and closed the grate. He left the alley and headed to the Tarnished Tankard to rendezvous with Elias and the others.

  ***

  Tsaeris, Elias, Niivi and Telyn shared a table. None of the others had found anyone attempting to disrupt the event, nor had any of the agents in the crowd. Tsaeris’ assassin had been the lone attempt. Before long the meeting was over, and the others, save Elias, departed the tavern. Niivi gave him a look that made his knees feel weak before she left.

  Elias looked at Tsae
ris as soon as they were alone at the table. “You did very well, Tsaeris,” he said sincerely.

  “Just doing my job, boss,” Tsaeris replied, trying to sound humble. He wasn’t, of course. He was very proud of himself, and excited that the assassin he had killed had been the only one. He had saved the entire event.

  “Well, keep it up. Had the union killed Ambassador Bel, who knows what might have happened? The Elves would not have taken it in stride, and it might have started a war that would have no doubt ended with the annihilation of their people.”

  “Well, good thing we were there. Hey, speaking of that Bel fellow, what do you know about him?” Tsaeris asked.

  “Not much,” Elias replied.

  “Oh come on Elias. Don’t give me that. You know something.”

  “Why are you interested?” Elias asked.

  “Well, I am at least half-elf,” Tsaeris replied.

  “So your interest is academic?”

  “Pretty much.” Tsaeris lied.

  “Tell you what. I’ll go over what we know about him, and see what I’m willing to share with you. Sound fair?”

  “Sounds good to me,” Tsaeris replied, honestly surprised that Elias was willing to give him even that much.

  Elias congratulated Tsaeris once more for his performance in the field, then left to go do whatever the hell it was that Elias did. Tsaeris ordered a drink and sat alone for a time. He stayed for dinner, and several more drinks intent on killing away the entire evening.

  He thought about Niivi and Cyra. He wasn’t sure how he felt about either of them. He liked Cyra a lot and genuinely enjoyed her company. He knew that if Cyra found out about what he had done with Niivi, it would be over.

  He wasn’t sure that was a bad thing. Niivi was beautiful, sexy and a bit on the darker side. She was fantasy meets reality, and his one night spent with her was blissful. He leaned back in his chair, and put his feet up on the table and his hands behind his head. He was torn. Dangerous and exciting Niivi? Or safe and friendly, albeit quick tempered, Cyra?

  He hadn’t seen Cyra since his night with Niivi, and decided to go see her again before he made any permanent choice. He figured that tonight was as good as any. He finished his drink, and left.

  It was dark now, and the streets were all but empty. He walked confidently down the snow caked cobblestone. He was at home in the night, and right in his element. He walked at a casual pace, planning on reaching the brothel where Cyra worked late enough to justify spending the night.

  He took a longer circuitous route. Midnight approached by the time he reached the neighborhood of the brothel. The streets were entirely empty now. He was around the corner of the street that housed the Brothel and would be there in a few minutes.

  He rounded the corner, and bumped into what felt like a brick wall. He stumbled backwards, cursing, and then stared in shock. The wall was not a wall, but a large man, heavily cloaked in black and featureless behind a hood. The figure was the biggest man Tsaeris had ever seen, taller and broader than even Tyrier. Tsaeris looked like a small child by comparison.

  The man, if man it was, stood facing Tsaeris and saying nothing. Tsaeris knew instinctively that the man was dangerous, and dared not try to pass him for fear of leaving himself vulnerable. Instead, he balanced his stance preparing for fight or flight, whichever the situation demanded.

  “Can I help you?” Tsaeris asked, his voice trembling ever so slightly. The man said nothing, and the only movement was the wind in his night black cloak.

  “Look, I don’t know what you want, but you better let me pass.” Tsaeris tried to sound intimidating and confident. It invoked no reaction from the figure. In awkward silence, the two stood facing each other for a long time. The man’s silence made Tsaeris feel uneasy. He waited, but still the man did nothing.

  Tsaeris did not waste his time. He studied the figure in detail during the silent standoff. The dark clothing beneath the cloak looked like a heavy robe of sorts. The man was seemingly unarmed, but Tsaeris was no fool. He knew there was a big difference between seemingly unarmed and actually unarmed.

  He wondered what the man was waiting for. If he meant to attack Tsaeris, why not just do it? He wondered if the tactic was meant to wear him down psychologically. He had to admit that it was a good tactic, as it was working. He was uneasy and more than a little frightened.

  He decided to use that man’s patience against him. At this point, the man had already sealed his own fate. He hadn’t moved, but was clearly here to threaten or harm Tsaeris. He suspected the man planned to wear him down with fear and anxiety with this silent act, and then attack him when his mind was in a state of panic.

  Well, Tsaeris wasn’t going to give him that chance. He would attack first. He would kill the man quickly before he could react. If the man didn’t mean any harm, then he should have just left Tsaeris alone. His death would be his own fault. Tsaeris was well trained, and, despite his uneasiness, was confident of the outcome of his attack.

  With a quick leap backwards to widen the gap, he reached over his shoulder and drew his short sword with lightning speed. The figure sprang into action and closed the gap faster than Tsaeris would have believed possible for a man of that size, catching his sword arm by the wrist the instant the sword cleared the scabbard, quickly stealing the split second Tsaeris would have needed to end the man’s life. His grip was vice-like and Tsaeris though his wrist might break.

  The man dragged Tsaeris into the alley by the wrist. Tsaeris struggled in vain, unable to break the iron grip. He did not want to go into that alley. Death was in there, and he knew it, but he was helpless to stop it.

  The darkness closed around him. It took Tsaeris a few seconds to remember, through the terror, that he still had one arm free. He produced a dagger from beneath his sleeve and stabbed the man in the arm that was holding his wrist. The iron grip released, and Tsaeris ran nimbly up the wall and onto the roof. He dared not engage this man in combat.

  Tsaeris relied on his speed and training to out distance his attacker, if indeed the attacker had followed him. He leaped from rooftop to rooftop, his speed and agility carrying him easily over the small gaps. He dared not look back; he was moving very fast and feared a misstep that would cause him to miss a gap and fall. He knew that to fall meant being captured, and capture meant death. Better to just look forward and dedicate all of his attention to speed and escape. If the man was going to catch him at this rate, there was nothing he could do about it. Looking back would not help him. Before long, Tsaeris reached one of the large, ugly housing buildings.

  Tsaeris climbed down from the roof and entered the structure. He ran through the interior hallways, which were drab and poorly maintained. He passed several doors, all holding living quarters, and up two stair cases. At the top of the landing he opened a door, and found himself outside on one of the rickety walkways that connected the buildings. The dark wood was old and splintered in spots, and the waist high wooden railing had several large gaps were the wood had fallen away. Tsaeris walked cautiously, trying to ignore the alarming swaying of the old sky bridge.

  Tsaeris spun as the walkway groaned in protest. The large man landed with an audible thud. Tsaeris stood facing the man in shock, unable to believe that the man had caught up with him. Tsaeris turned to run, but before he could take more than a step or two, the man crashed hard into his back. Tsaeris lay face first in the snow, shocked and horrified? How could he be so fast? A rough kick rolled him onto his back. He felt his ribs crack.

  The large cloaked figured stood looking down at him. Tsaeris tried to reach for his belt, but the man stomped down hard on his right hand. Tsaeris screamed. The man bent over, and Tsaeris launched a hard kick at his face. His ribs burned and ached in protest, but he was rewarded with a gush of blood exploding from within the hood. The man seemed unfazed.

  The man bent over again, and was holding a knife. Tsaeris began to panic, trying desperately to find a way out of this. He blinked terrified sweat from his eye, and sc
anned his surroundings, but could find nothing useful.

  The man began cutting away Tsaeris shirt, cutting right through the baldric that held his sword scabbard, and cut the strings of his cloak. Tsaeris barely felt the cold in the heat of his terror. The man paused for a moment, and then pushed the blade into the skin of Tsaeris’ chest.

  Through the agony, Tsaeris realized that the man was carving something into his flesh. One hand worked the knife, the other was held over his mouth to prevent anymore screaming. The man was taking his time, meticulously carving each word or symbol, Tsaeris couldn’t tell which.

  He cried out silently into the leather glove over his mouth as the blade cut through his left nipple. The carving lasted an eternity, and when it was done Tsaeris was almost delirious with the pain, and his energy was sapped. His work done, the man grabbed Tsaeris by the ankle and dragged him a few feet to the railing of the walkway. The tattered remain of his clothing fell away.

  Tsaeris wondered when it would end, when the man would finally kill him. The man let go of his ankle, and walked out of view. Tsaeris could hear him working, but could not see him. He didn’t even have the energy left to move his head. He was losing a lot of blood.

  After a time the man returned to view and wrapped a rope around his neck. Tsaeris found it odd that he was suddenly emotionless about the whole thing, despite the fact that the man was clearly about to hang him. He supposed that he must have slipped into shock.

  The rope tightened around his neck and he found that he could barely breathe, though the man had yet to actually hang him. The shortened supply of air combined with the blood loss made Tsaeris’ mind feel numb and foggy. He had trouble organizing his thoughts, and felt his awareness of his surroundings slipping away. He cried out for a moment as he felt a sharp pain in his stomach, then everything went numb.

  After an undetermined amount of time, Tsaeris felt himself slowly rising to a sitting position. How odd that his body should decide to sit all by itself. He usually controlled those actions. He was even more surprised when he found himself standing. What an amazing thing the body was.