Assassin

by Kacey Ezell

  She led them toward an overgrown alcove, barely visible behind draping vines and paused before pushing aside the vegetation to enter the den. Perhaps she should have sent a message to Death first before bringing someone new into their home, but no. Peacemaker orders, and better she get a sense of what it was all about before interrupting her elder siblings’ day. It would be good for all of them if Death and Blade could fully erase the tension that still existed after Death’s elevation.

  Tamir followed her without hesitation, though some might have thought twice before following a Depik into a dim, enclosed space. Flame took them deeper into the cave. Given Susa’s long residence in the den, the entrance was more than tall enough for a Human, though Tamir did not seem nearly so impressed or grateful of that fact as she should have. Flame wondered idly how observant the Human was, given she didn’t seem interested in why a species that barely reached her waist would have an access point that stretched over Human height.

  The stone around them changed subtly, from natural and rugged to slightly too smoothed to be natural, and then ended in a curved cubby studded with rocky outcropping, the surfaces too perfect to pass for untouched nature any longer. Flame leapt to a perch that put her at eye level with her new guest, steadying herself so as to show no hint of her lingering injury. While the Human claimed Peacemaker orders, it was better to trust and verify rather than continue blindly, and Flame wasn’t sure why the Depik Peacemaker would have a Human in her employ.

  Tamir looked around as the air changed subtly around them, taking in the smoothed stone walls, rounded edges, and numerous niches and ledges that served as resting or launching points for the den’s residents. She visibly braced herself and then forced out a breath.

  “My orders are to speak only to your dama,” she said, meeting Flame’s vividly blue eyes directly. “And what I have to say is not for the open air.”

  “Any part of our den is as secure as any other.” Not entirely true, but all this Human needed to know. “And, as I said, our dama is not here. She is with your Peacemaker, and she should have been there for a week. Perhaps you should just turn around and return to them?” It was not quite a jibe, as she kept her tone level rather than mocking, but the overly interested tilt of her head gave her words a bit of a barb.

  From Tamir’s suddenly visible frustration, it landed with more than a hint of bite, though the woman channeled her annoyance into needlessly straightening her sleeves. Wondering if that would reveal hidden weapons, Flame shifted her own position subtly, and then the tension broke in an unexpected way.

  Tamir threw her head back and laughed. Flame didn’t relax entirely, but eased at the sound.

  “What’s funny?”

  “Not funny, Silent Flame. I don’t know what to do, but I certainly wouldn’t choose suicide. I’m not here to attack you in your own stronghold with something I’ve strapped to my arm.”

  “Ah.” She shed a bit more tension, allowed her tail to relax and twitch idly over the side of her small ledge. “I have yet to kill a Human, so I’m glad to not change that in my own den this morning. All the same, I don’t know what to tell you. Dama will not be back soon, though our Heir will be.”

  Tamir shook her head and looked around the room again. Flame let the moment stretch and then finally yawned.

  “I have no other options for you, Tamir Alcuin of the Peacemaker’s office. Peacemaker Hrusha had to know our dama was on her way, so I can’t think of why she would send a Human message, rather than wait to see her in person. We have no dama to take your message, except my sister, Death From Above. You can stay and talk to her or go and try to catch up to my dama, but otherwise—”

  “The dama is your mother?” Tamir’s attention sharpened as the realization formed from the tweaks in Flame’s language. Perhaps she was truly observant after all.

  “She is.”

  “I would like to wait for your Heir, thank you.”

  Flame sighed internally and jumped from her ledge to one much higher on the wall. She reached into a hidden cubby and entered a code on a pad Tamir couldn’t see, then nodded to her left where a wall had begun to slide into the floor.

  “This way then, if you will.”

  “Silent Flame—“

  “Just Flame is fine.” She moved easily across to the new opening, only pausing when she realized Tamir had started, and then stopped, moving.

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why ‘just Flame’? Peacemaker Hrusha dislikes when any of us call her anything but Creeping Agony; she says it’s worth the effort to get her name right.” In fact, Tamir’s accent was not purely terrible—nowhere close to accurate, but not a disaster. Flame was impressed.

  “I have been Flame since I was very young,” she replied, feeling no need to bring Susa into the discussion at the moment. “Come along.” She continued moving again, taking them down a long hall into another rounded room, this one bigger and set with various styles of furniture, some appropriately sized for a Human.

  “Make yourself comfortable. Do you require a beverage or food?”

  Tamir was staring at the cushions, and then glanced back at the hall they’d walked down. Before she could ask the question, Flame crossed the room and gestured at a cold closet with an interrogatory noise.

  With a quick shake of her head, Tamir focused back on the Hunter. “Yes, a drink would be nice. Do you have coffee?”

  “Of course. I don’t know how long Death will be.” She wanted to ask for the message again but busied herself getting drinks and channeling Susa as best she could.

  “The Peacemaker had concerns,” Tamir said upon accepting the hot mug of coffee.

  “About?” Flame was surprised the woman had said anything on the topic, after she’d shown Tamir how content she was in silence.

  “About the transition. Not your dama, of course, or else she wouldn’t have sent me to talk to her. I just…she said I wasn’t to talk with anyone but the dama.”

  “If you want me to give you an answer, I’d say we are each of us trusted by our dama. If you were to tell her, you could tell Death, or me.” She kept the words neutral, carefully so, burying the tendril of exasperation rising in answer to the Human’s apparent indecision. “I am otherwise out of options for you.”

  Tamir looked troubled, though she tried to hide it and said nothing else.

  * * *

  It was a few days more before Death was able to have that conversation with Blade. More than she would have liked. Despite Reow having left everything in working order, Death found her time taken up with administrative tasks. The clan held roughly a thousand service contracts, and she had to review them all so she knew what they contained. Susa was of great help during this time, as was Blade himself, but it wasn’t until the night Reow arrived on Capitol that they had a chance to talk about Blade’s concerns with the council.

  After a morning of endless conversations with various clients and contractors, Blade paced restlessly beside her as they walked.

  “You’re taking the long way home,” he said at one point, when she angled away from the most direct route back to the Den.

  “You look like you could use the exercise,” Death said in her dry way. “And it will give us a chance to talk, since you can hardly avoid me now.”

  “Was I that obvious?” Blade asked.

  “Not at all,” Death said. “We’ve both been busy. But it has been several days, and something has been on your mind. I will wait as long as you need, though. You know that.”

  “Yes, well,” Blade said, his tail twitching in frustration. “No time like the present. That all went well.”

  “I think so,” Death said letting out a sigh. It wasn’t flying Basreeni or stalking targets, but the morning’s work had been exhausting just the same. “I was pleased to be able to reach out to some of our contacts and tell them of Dama’s new contract.”

  “Interesting to do so face to face, in some cases. Some are not as satisfied with our dam
a’s new contract as I would expect,” Blade said, his twitchy ears indicating that his thoughts were elsewhere.

  “We’re a young clan, Blade,” Death said. “You know that better than I. Especially compared to some. Our quick rise to such heights is going to twist some tails. I’m sure you saw it in the council meeting.”

  “Mmm. Indeed. What do you know of Whispering Fear and High Canopy?”

  “Powerful clans, both. Good Hunters. Whispering Fear supplied several of my pilots in the Basreeni, and one of my higher leaders was a deo of High Canopy. Why?”

  “Some clans were neutral in council, given Dama taking the Peacemaker contract neither hurt nor helped them immediately. Those two were strongly against.” He paused again, the hesitation unlike him. Death looked over to see the fur on his forearms rippling with tension.

  “Well, I suppose they had their reasons. Did they put forward their own candidate?” Death felt the soft skin between her eyes wrinkle as she tried to wrap her mind around what Blade was telling her. He had always been the subtlest thinker of the four of them, and she couldn’t quite grasp the nuance he was trying to convey.

  “Evening Tide pushed for their own Dama, but Whispering Fear…” he trailed off again, flexed his claws, and frowned. “Their Dama hated that ours was suggested and wanted it. Nothing she said directly, but there was a moment I thought she would attack in front of the whole council.”

  “Oh. That’s…significant. Dama never told me of any enmity between our clan and theirs.” Clan rivalries were common, certainly. But the life of another Hunter was so precious that to personally attack one seemed obscenely outrageous. “What did she do?”

  “She was so surprised when the contract was offered to Dama that her eyes fully slitted and claws flexed—I happened to be looking her way by luck. That made me pay more attention to her reactions than I would have otherwise, and everything she said was just slightly off.” Blade shook his head, his eyes distant. “When Dama accepted, she tensed all in a ripple—I saw her, barely a breath, but she lost control.” His voice carried a note of wonder at the sheer audacity and blasphemy of it all.

  “What stopped her?” Death asked, caught up in the story despite herself. “If she was ready to attack, why didn’t she?”

  “How could she have, in front of every major clan?” Hunters fought, of course, it was only the taking of a life that was forbidden. But two damas, that skilled, wrestling among the most experienced—and therefore likely deadliest—of their kind? “I think she decided something else, in that place. And I wouldn’t trust whatever she decided.”

  “So, we must be on our guard,” Death said, twitching her ears. “With a clan as large as Whispering Fear, any kind of attack will likely come from an unexpected quarter, too. Perhaps it is good that I am having to go through all of our financials and accounts. Do you think High Canopy may also be maneuvering against us?”

  “They will likely block us from the front—try and steal contracts, skew a trade, if anything. Whispering Fear, given its size and influence, and their dama…they’re the ones I’m worried about.”

  “And so this is what’s been troubling you?” Death asked softly. “I have worried.”

  Blade turned to look at his sister and stepped closer so that their shoulders rubbed against one another as they walked.

  “It is,” he said. “And I’m sorry. I should have spoken to you earlier. I didn’t want to make you worry, what with the kittens and all.”

  “But I worried anyway,” Death pointed out. “You know better than that, Blade. We’re a team, always.”

  “Yes,” he said, slow blinking. “We are.”

  They turned to follow the small creek that wound up the hillside toward the back entrance to the Den and continued the rest of the way in silence. Death suspected Blade continued to chew on his thoughts and suspicions about the other clans, but that had always been his way. Of them all, Blade was the strategist. As for herself, she was content to wait and see, trusting that her clan’s defenses were all they should be.

  No sooner had they stepped in through the back entrance when Susa emerged from a crossing hallway nearby.

  “Blade, Death,” the woman said, slow blinking while smiling in her Human way. Her hands trembled, though Death smelled no fear in her scent. Excitement? What could get their unflappable molly so worked up as that? “I am glad you have returned. Flame is asking for you, Death, and you may wish your brother’s counsel for this one. She brings a visitor. A Human bounty hunter here on Peacemaker orders.”

  “Another Human!” No wonder Susa was excited! “Are you…?”

  “I am fine,” Susa said, smiling again. “She appears to be very nice. It’s just…strange, after so long.”

  Blade moved first to press against her, rub his cheek against the hands she stretched down to him. Death followed, keeping her eyes on Susa’s face. From all appearances, the molly really was fine. Death would have expected her to exhibit signs of sadness, or even a little uncertainty or fear. But then, Susa rarely did the expected.

  “I really am fine, Damita,” the woman said, reaching her right hand out for Death as her left continued to caress Blade. “My home is here, with you all. Now, shall we go see what the Peacemaker Guild wants with our clan? I’ve put her in the small parlor. Flame is there with her, as is your Mhrand.”

  Susa never did anything by accident, and so Death interpreted the molly’s use of her new title as a reminder. In Dama’s absence, she must speak for the clan. Well enough. She’d certainly been practicing that lately.

  It wasn’t far to the little parlor, and the three of them entered together. Death took care to watch Susa’s face as the visitor stood and held out her hand in greeting to them all. Susa glanced down at her and slow blinked. A reassurance. She really was fine.

  “I greet you, Damita Death From Above of the Night Wind Clan,” the bounty hunter said, drawing Death’s attention back to her. “My name is Tamir Alcuin, licensed bounty hunter, and I’m here under orders from the Peacemaker Guild.”

  “I, Death From Above, Heir of the Night Wind Clan, greet you, bounty hunter Tamir Alcuin of the Peacemaker Guild. Welcome to our negotiation,” Death replied in English as she padded into the room and leapt up onto the central pedestal. Usually, Dama occupied that spot. Today, it would have to be hers. “You know our customs well.”

  “And you speak excellent English, Damita,” Alcuin said, settling onto a cushion when Susa gestured she should do so. Mhrand leapt up to curl beside Death, and Blade and Flame took their own seats. “I was surprised to see another Human here. I was told that off-worlders are seldom allowed in your dens.”

  “Susa is a part of our clan,” Death said in a tone that invited no further discussion on the matter. “What can we do for you and the Peacemaker Guild, bounty hunter?”

  “I was sent with a message for your dama from Peacemaker Hrusha, and I was told to give it to no one but her.”

  “Ah. The Peacemaker will be able to give her the message directly, then,” Death said, slow blinking. “Dama should have arrived on Capitol seven days ago.”

  “Ye-es,” Alcuin said, her voice troubled. A wrinkle appeared between her brows, and she had opened her mouth to say something else when a complex series of chimes echoed through the air in the small parlor. Death felt her fur stand on end, for that particular sequence was reserved for emergency messages from a member of the clan back to the den.

  An image appeared in the air between Death and the doorway; it was the canid face of Ruzeen, their Zuul factor in the City.

  “Damita, Hunters, greetings. I don’t have much time,” the Zuul said, his tone curiously hushed. His eyes stretched wide, and his breath came in quick little pants as he spoke. “The word has only just gone out, and there is to be no warning…the elders have declared Night Wind Clan anathema. They say that Dama killed the old Peacemaker. I’m sending the video packet they used to justify it all. I…I am so sorry to tell you this, but our dama—” he broke off wit
h a whine and lowered his head. For just a moment, Death caught sight of the ear that usually carried the clan’s sigil. It was a bloody ruin, as if someone had violently torn the sigil out of his flesh.

  “Our dama is dead,” he said. “They attacked my office and took my sigil. They didn’t hurt me otherwise, so Susa should be fine, but the rest of you…”

  He trailed off again, whipping his head from side to side, causing blood from his ear to splatter red on the bottom of the image.

  “The rest of you, you Hunters. You must flee. They’re coming for you!”

  Ruzeen’s face disappeared, replaced by an image of an open area that Death recognized as the major orbital shuttle station above Capitol. The bounty hunter sucked in a sharp breath as they watched Dama and another Hunter wearing a harness with a Peacemaker badge walk out of the shuttle dock. They headed down a short corridor to enter an airlock that led to Dama’s large ship, the Sarru. Sarru pulsed her way back from the station’s docking arms, clearly visible through the external view cameras. A moment later, an explosion blossomed across the black, blotting out the stars and the view of Capitol below.

  * * *

  The attacks started immediately.

  In retrospect, Death always thought that should have told her something, but in the moment, she was too busy trying to survive to piece things together. Plus, when it came right down to it, they were caught completely flat-footed. They’d been taught to anticipate every threat imaginable…but no one had ever imagined a scenario like this.

  Shocked silence followed the video, broken only by the soft whirring as the serving bots hovered their quiet, efficient way into the room. Death had requested food and drink for this meeting, as a courtesy to the bounty hunter and her Peacemaker masters. Death’s body felt wooden, but she forced herself to reach out and take a drinking bowl from the nearest bot’s tray.

  A thin trail of smoke started issuing from the vents underneath.

  “What…”