by Auryn Hadley
"It's a pneumatic weapon, typically cast in resin, sometimes acrylics. Once charged, it shoots a needle or dart and can reach over five hundred meters. And sniping works for me. Keeping my distance reduces the chances of getting taken out, blacking out the link. You already know about that, having been chatting us up with it."
"Ok, so... Is it an all or nothing thing, or can you close out someone if you need to?"
"No," he said sadly, "I can, and after dawn tomorrow, I plan to shut you out. It's not easy to do, but I can drop anyone that doesn't outrank me. We don't need to be listening to what you think and I can't quite trust you to not stumble across a stray thought from one of these men. So far, we don't have any real mission details, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to keep you in for a while longer. I have to make tough calls sometime, like blocking out someone wounded because we can't think with his cries across the link. It's always been a part of me, but like you probably guessed, only those with iliri ancestry can use it. Well... and Zep."
"Hey!" Zep said, "I keep telling you, my great great granny liked her iliri servants. And all of her kids were blondes. I'm a part bred too... just not a big part!"
Arctic rolled his eyes so Zep could see. Jokingly, Zep tossed a sausage at Arctic's head.
"Guys," Razor said, "c'mon. Besides, Zep has to have some iliri... no other human has been able to link. But Sal, for combat, I tend to do well with poles. Pikes, lances, halberds, you name it and I can use it. Figure they're all variations of the same. I don't do infiltration well. I tend to be too big, too loud, and lack the discipline to not say what I think. I'm a slower fighter than the others, but I think I make up for it with strength."
Sal nodded, mentally making notes.
"As for my ability, well... I'm a compass." He shrugged, "I find things, and I don't really know how. If I focus on something, I can point you at it. Not real useful, unless someone tries to lose you in the woods."
The Blades laughed, obviously having experienced Razor's skill themselves.
"Ok, so I'm next," Shift spoke up. "Well, I do the infiltration work that Razor won't. I blend in, and people tend to just like me, so getting information is easy. I also work with most of the hand to hand weapons but can't hit the broad side of a barn with anything from a distance. I'm lucky if I can hit a table when I drop my dagger! I prefer sword and pike, like you saw at the sparring match. And let's see... my ability is that I can heal minor wounds or stabilize the serious ones."
Sal nodded and looked to Cyno.
"I'm easy," he said, meeting her eyes and holding them. "I kill people. I like close weapons: daggers, knives, even a short sword'll do. I can handle any of 'em, though. If ya want sum'un dead, then I'm yer man. If ya wanna jus' hold the line, ya use one of the others. I do na fight pretty, I just kill."
"So," Sal asked delicately, "an assassin?"
"Yeh," he replied flatly. "I move fast, and I do na care 'bout none of the posing crap some do. I fig're, get in, get it done, and be over it."
"Do you have an ability too, then?" she asked.
"I touch things," he said. "I mean, usually it's people, but objects of affection can do it, too. I can tell ya if sum'un is lying or guilty, or stuff. I sometimes can get real strong stuff from an item, like if somethan bad happened when they held it, or if they were thinking about it when using the item, but they have to do that a lot."
"What, think about it a lot?" she asked.
"Yeh, like, if a boy breaks a girl's heart, and she holds her pillow and cries about him ever' night, then I can get bits and pieces of what she was thinking happened. It's na as good as touching the person, though."
Sal nodded, trying to think of how that could be used. Besides reading a specific person for a specific reason, she couldn't come up with much.
"Ok, Risk, what about you?" she asked.
"Well, I'm a jack of trades type of fighter," he said. "When I joined the Blades, they made sure I could hold my own, but mostly I'm just support. I do the healing, and while Shift's method is faster, mine is stronger. I can repair almost anything, so long as my patient is still breathing when I get him. It isn't a comfortable feeling."
Around the room, the men shook their heads in agreement. Sal assumed most of them had endured Risk's healing and hoped to never do it again.
"Think of it like all the pain shoved into a few minutes," Zep said. "It ain't fun."
"Ok, so what about you, then, Zep? What do you do?"
"Well, I fight." He smirked. "I can beat just about any of these guys at any weapon. I tend not to lose." His eyes met hers knowingly.
Sal realized he was saying her victory in their spar meant more than she thought. If Zep could beat most of the Blades at their weapons of choice, why had they put him up against her?
"Before your pretty head gets tied in knots, I've lost a few times. You aren't that special. And yeah, I decided to fight you because I planned to show the others that you weren't unstoppable."
"I never thought I was!" she snapped at him. "I just wanted to score a touch on you before you took me out."
"Oh."
The room had gone still, the others acting uncomfortable, looking away from Sal as she glared at Zep.
"And your ability?" she growled. "Is it as impressive as your ego?"
"Sadly, no." Zep sighed, meeting her eyes. "I don't have one, it seems, or if I do, I haven't found it yet." He sighed again. "Look, Sal, I'm sorry. I come off rude at times, and like a hard-ass, but I don't mean anything by it. I just figured you were mentally patting yourself on the back because that's what I would have done."
"I wasn't. Actually, I'm even more shocked, because I never thought I'd win against you to start with." Looking around the room, she decided to just get it out. "I don't know how any of you came into elite service, but I'm lucky they even let me apply. My kind isn't typically a candidate for small operations like the Blades, and this is my dream, something I've wanted for as long as I can remember. I never thought I'd have a chance, let alone make it this far. I always assumed you'd find some reason to force me out of the running because I can't blend in and play human, and now I wonder if that's why you chose me to spar with, because you wanted to get rid of the scrubber."
The room erupted at that. While voices decried her accusations, she heard the click signifying Arctic had opened her to the link. Into her mind swelled images of disbelief, denial, and appall that she could feel so unworthy. Feelings of their enthusiasm for her chances hit her, mingled with visions of her excelling at one thing or another. Through the deafening haze in her head, she found no thoughts against her.
"Sal," LT said from across the room, gesturing for Arctic to close the link. "I let Zep fight you for two reasons. First, because you were the only one that stood any chance against him. Second, I had to see how combat with a human would affect you. The sparring only demonstrated how unprepared a few candidates were, nothing more. If you haven't noticed, your breeding is an asset to us, not a reason for us to be fearful or shun you. I can promise you that the only reason you will be excluded from the Black Blades at this point will be due to your own actions, not ours."
She nodded, ashamed she hadn't trusted them more, but she'd always been treated like the outsider.
"Did you get what you need?" he asked kindly.
"You didn't tell me what role you play, sir."
"Ah, in this case, it won't matter. I won't be among your soldiers." His eyes lit up wickedly, and Sal realized it was a hint, if she could ascertain what he meant. "But for now, I think we're done. Dawn comes sooner than we'd like, and I, for one, have a meeting with people who think they're important. C'mon guys, let's get to bed and let Sal get some sleep before she tries to figure out what it is I have planned."
Tossing back drinks, the Blades got to their feet and began to make their way out. Each one stopped to give Sal a word of encouragement and Shift amused her with a bear hug.
"Going my way, or you have a better place to sleep tonight than your cabin?" h
e asked, waggling his eyebrows in a parody of flirtation.
"Nah, Shift, I thought I'd climb in bed with Cyno... he's closer to my size, you know," she teased back, once again feeling like this was where she belonged. Even after a disagreement, she still had no desire to be anywhere else.
Across the room, Cyno's head snapped around. His dark blue eyes stared into hers for a second before Shift grabbed him, hauling him into the hall.
"Fight you for her!" Shift laughed, dragging the little man along, leaving Sal to make her own way to her bed.
Chapter 11
The ceiling still looked the same, she thought as she lay on her bed staring at it. The night before, Sal had locked the door securely behind her before shifting her skin into that of the dark woman she longed to be. She'd spent hours waiting and checking, only to realize that as long as she felt like the other woman, then likely she still looked like her. A small corner of her mind had to always be aware of her new appearance but, with practice, it had grown so easy that Sal had tried sleeping in the new form. Now awake, she lay staring at the ceiling, trying to convince herself to climb out of bed.
A glance in the mirror showed her skin still dark and her hair still wavy, even if it was disheveled from sleep. After hours of inspecting the new features of her altered self, she'd made a few adjustments. She now stood just under two meters tall, an average size for a human woman, but much taller than what she was used to. Walking took practice, but it only made her hold on this body more secure when she had to accommodate the longer limbs. She also had a less than perfect line of teeth, not crooked, but just enough perfection removed to give her a feeling of reality. A birthmark on her hip and a few "childhood scars" had finished the body.
Now, realizing her new form would hold even through sleep, she needed to put her plan into action. First, she needed to be herself again. While Sal straightened her room and prepared for a few days away from it, she allowed her body to revert to the form it knew best. She packed a few belongings and put on a clean uniform before making what she hoped seemed to be a typical exit.
She closed the door and saw movement beside her. Cyno leaned casually against the wall of the cabin next to hers. He glanced over at her from the corner of his eye and his lip curled as he tried to pretend he didn't see her.
"Morning," Sal said as she reached for her bag.
"Yeh."
She looked at him for a long moment, wondering if the Blades planned to keep track of her movements. The Lieutenant said they would be scored on their planning for this mission, and who better for surveillance than an assassin?
Cyno chuckled softly and turned to face her. "Nah, I'm na stalkin' ya. I'm just na supposed ta be talkin' to ya neither."
She cocked her head slightly, confused. "I thought I was out of the link?"
"Yeh, but tha' does na mean I can na smell yer concern."
"So why are you waiting outside my room?"
He jerked his thumb at the door beside him. "My rooms. Ya did na know I'm next door?"
Sal shook her head.
"Yeh. Just glad ya do na talk in yer sleep." He grinned at her but turned as Zep staggered across the street. "Yer late, big brother," Cyno called to him.
"Shove it, little brother, and stop talking to the applicants," Zep called back, walking toward them. "Morning, Sal."
"Morning, Zep."
"Now, go on. We've got practice and you're not supposed to be talking to us."
Sal smiled up at him innocently. "Whatcha practicing?"
Cyno chuckled. "Ya wish ya knew. Go on, kitten."
"Kitten?" Zep asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Fuck off," Cyno said.
Zep looked from Cyno to Sal, an amused expression on his face. "Gotcha, bro. And Sal, we ain't giving ya shit, so ya might as well finish whatever you were starting."
She sighed, defeated. "Ok. See ya both in two days, then," she called as she walked away.
"I'm rooting for ya, kid," Zep whispered when she was well away. She wasn't sure if he knew she could still hear him.
Her first stop was the requisition office. Once there, Sal retrieved her stipend and invoked her access to any information pertaining to the next trial. She scoured page after page of documents, taking note of items that seemed abnormal but, overall, finding nothing that gave her any insight into the test. From there, she began asking for a wagon into Fort Landing. The ride would take an hour, but her plan required it. She needed supplies from a larger outpost and an alibi.
It didn't take long before she jounced and bounced in the back of a supply cart, the driver casting suspicious glances at her. Sal started to ignore him, then realized that the prejudice against her own kind would actually work in her favor. Over the course of the ride, she took note of the way he checked her actions, how his face showed traces of disgust, and the tension in his body while he tried to pretend she wasn't there. She thought about how that could apply to her new form, for the dark skinned woman would naturally have been taught that she was better than any iliri. Her prejudice would have to be minimal at best. Sal would never be able to give an honest portrayal of hate for her own kind.
When they reached the gates of Fort Landing, the driver kicked her out. Grabbing her bags, she casually turned without a backwards glance, amused at the smell of fear emanating from the human, then strolled across the dusty cobbles of the oldest fort in the Conglomerate. Her destination was an inn on the lower side that would ask few questions and serve her kind. After securing a room, she changed into a billowy dress and tossed her belongings into a parcel that she mailed back to the stable. The delivery was set for the date of the first trial. Her room now barren of personal belongings, Sal returned to the street. Her casual attire allowed her to blend with the citizens, even if her skin didn't.
A quick stop at the main requisition desk required her to sign in, proof that she was no longer at Stonewater Stables. She checked these records for any hint of her next mission, but found the Black Blades ordered little out of the ordinary. Not surprised at the lack of information, she thanked the attending official and put her plan into action.
A few blocks down the street, Sal ducked into a public restroom. The stench of the toilets distracted her, but she focused on the woman she was about to become. Once her bones solidified and her form stabilized, she walked to the mirror. There, looking back at her, was a human woman in a loose but well-fitting dress. The same dress that billowed around Sal's shins now brushed her new knees, and the neckline that hung limply against Sal's chest strained before her ample breasts. She twisted the curls of her hair into a serviceable knot, then made her way back to the street.
The change in how people reacted was immediate. Men turned to look and women turned their eyes away. Pale-skinned humans and iliri crossbreds shot jealous glances at her. Sal pretended not to see them as she made her way to a local clothing store in the residential district. She entered and noticed yet another difference. Attendants glanced up at the sound of the door, immediately making their way to assist rather than ignoring her presence.
"Madam, what can we do for you today?" The chipper girl asked.
"I need something a bit more formal, it seems," she replied. "I've been invited to a few events this weekend and heard the most fashionable clothes in this area could be found here?"
"Oh yes, ma'am," the clerk assured her. "We outfit officers, their spouses, and even enlisted soldiers. Our clothing is brought in from Prin rather than made by local clothiers. May I ask what events you'll be attending so we can find the proper style to suit you?"
"Oh, my husband has planned lunch with some officers, so I need something appropriate for that. Nothing too fancy, since it'll be outdoors. Tonight I hope to spend some time in the local pubs while he's in meetings. They always last all night, and sitting around in some fancy room alone just doesn't sound very exciting." She leaned her head closer to the girl and whispered, "Besides, my friends back home said I needed to see what the soldiers look like!"
The clerk giggled like the girl she was, "Oh yes, ma'am. They train all day and have bodies like you wouldn't believe. Ok, so let's see what we have..." She flicked through racks, pulling out a few selections, and gestured for Sal to follow her toward the fitting rooms.
The feel of expensive clothing was exciting. Fashion had always been a weakness Sal could never afford, so she made the most of it. In the end, she selected four outfits for her new form to suit different occasions. The clerk wrapped them carefully and placed them in a bag, never suspecting a thing.
Sal left the store dressed in soft brown breeches, knee high boots, and a billowy white shirt, the type of attire found fashionable for travel. She then made her way back to the front gate and booked a trip to the Stables at Stonewater under the name Siana Praxis.
Chapter 12
The carriage rumbled into the Stables and pulled to the side. As the passengers were assisted out, footmen retrieved their luggage, placing it in neat rows for the owners to retrieve. The horses were unhitched from the shafts and walked away while fresh ones were brought in to replace them. It was very organized and precise. Sal watched wide eyed, knowing that the persona of Siana should be impressed. She looked around, taking in the sights, before she made her way to her bag – filled only with the clothing she'd recently bought – and sought out an employee of the stables.
"Excuse me, sir, but can you point me to an inn or place to find lodging for the night?" she asked an older gentleman directing the harnessing of the horses.
He took a long look at her before answering. "Yes ma'am. It's just down that east road there, about a block. Did you need me to have a boy carry your bags Ms...."
"Praxis," she supplied. "No, I appreciate it, but there's no need. I just have a strange layover. It seems the next carriage doesn't leave out of Eastward back to Merriton for 2 days, and in Fort Landing they said the accommodations here are much nicer than my other options."
"Yes ma'am. Sadly there's no straight route from Fort Landing to Merriton," he explained, more than happy to leave the horses to his underlings.