“That’s why it’s twenty,” he said. He picked up the delicate bottle of wine and tossed it into the fire at the back of the room.
I grunted. Such waste. “Why did you call me here?”
Damn him for summoning me. At least while watching the Durven, I could keep my eyes open for the others he’d sent. I’d already dispatched two, though they clearly expected an easy target. The promise of twenty gold tils would bring out all sorts of real and would-be assassins.
“The job is more than just the woman.”
“You don’t want the woman dead?”
“My plans for the woman have not changed. See that it’s finished. Keep it clean. But she has something I want returned. You will receive your payment when I have the item.”
“That wasn’t the deal.”
“It is now.”
“Is that why you want her?” I asked. “She stole from you?”
He shrugged. “Do you really need the reason? Twenty for the girl and the return of my property.”
“What is it?” I asked. A strange request, even from Orly, and I’d received plenty of strange requests from him over the years.
“There will be others working with her,” Orly said, ignoring the question. “See that they are dispatched as well. Five gold apiece.”
I blinked, startled for the first time. “A high price to pay for just one woman.”
“The woman is still twenty. The others are five.”
I thought of all the others in the Durven, counting nearly a dozen regulars. I suspected all helped the woman somehow. At least hiding her, if not outright protection. Sixty gold on top of the twenty already offered. Quite the price for one woman. By far the most Orly would have ever paid me at once.
A different thought bothered me. How many were women Carth protected?
Orly had challenged her once—and lost. If he intended to make a push at her network again, I wouldn’t be a part of it.
He watched me, and a hint of a smile parted his mouth. “They’re not Binders, if that’s what you fear.”
I snorted. “I think you should fear that as well.”
“I don’t fear Carth of C’than.”
“You should. Others do.”
“I’m not like others.”
“Tell me honestly that you want no part of her network.” I had friends there, and for a man like me, that was valuable.
He turned toward the fire. “I want the girl and what she stole. That is all. Twenty gold and five for each protecting her.”
“I hope your coinpurse is full,” I said, twisting the glass between my fingers.
“You’ve always been paid in full.”
“That’s why I keep taking your jobs.”
He grunted. “This needs to be done soon.”
What threat could a woman like her pose to Orly? “Rushing will only lead to mistakes.” Not from me, but I couldn’t say the same about the others who had been made the same offer.
He continued staring at the coals in the fire. “Soon, Galen.”
“She’s just a woman.”
He looked up, and the heat in his eyes almost made me take a step backward. “Do not question, or you will find a price on your head twice as large.”
This time, I was intentional about my eyes when I blinked. “If it ever comes to that, you better offer more than that for my head.”
The heat didn’t fade from his eyes, but he smiled. “Do the job.”
I nodded slowly. “I will consider.”
As I turned to leave, Orly said, “You can leave the wine behind.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Oh? And why not?”
I looked back and he watched me, a curious expression across his wrinkled face. “Consider it my price for the meeting.”
Orly laughed as I slipped between his guards and left. I wondered if he knew how much I hated that sound.
3
The rooftops around the Durven were no cleaner than the buildings. There were times I wished I didn’t have Sight and this was one. Bird droppings coated slate shingles dampened with an evening dew, threatening to send me sliding to the street below. A few dead pigeons lay scattered. For some reason, I cringed when a cat grabbed one and skulked away with it clenched in its jaw. Darkened shadows of bats fluttered overhead as they flew out for their evening hunt.
In spite of all that, the air smelled clear and crisp. A hint of breeze fluttered across the roofline, bending and sliding around the buildings. Nothing like the salt air of my home, but still after all the years I’d spent here, I’d grown accustomed to the smell of the Eban air. A hint of rain hung on the breeze. The grey clouds hovering in the darkened sky and hiding the thin sliver of moon told me that for once, the threat was real.
The street below me was quiet. A rat scurried in the alley, shuffling through the pile of refuse overflowing a small bin. Otherwise, the street was empty. Down the narrow street, near the corner, a small lantern cast a dark smoke that drifted lazily until it reached the breeze. Poor-man’s oil, I’d once heard it called. A fitting name. Oil used in this part of town never burned clearly, not like the oil used in other parts of Eban. I’d taken advantage of the fact more than once.
I turned my attention to the Durven. Like many buildings built in Eban, the stone had sunk in the soft ground over the years until the entrance opened underground. A narrow stair led to the door, leaving only one entrance. The pair of lanterns hanging on either side of the door had been lit earlier in the evening. Now they only smoldered, giving no light to the stairs. Fortunately, I didn’t need much light to see. So far this evening, I’d seen several men enter, but none had left. As far as I could tell, the woman wasn’t there. When she returned, I’d be ready.
So I crouched, waiting.
A shadow moved through the alley, drawing my attention.
The movement wasn’t subtle, and not done with much skill. It was the kind of thing I’d feared when Orly thought to tempt me with additional coin. The price he offered amounted to a small fortune and risked turning simple thieves into something else.
I jumped from the roof and tracked the shadowed figure as quietly as I could manage. He approached the Durven, a crossbow in hand.
Crossbow. It was a terrible weapon. Good for killing, but too indiscriminate.
Checking my pouch, I loaded one of my darts and rolled it between my fingers.
The man hesitated.
Had I been too careless?
I doubted it, but maybe the man had more talent than I gave him credit for. He turned, crossbow pointed toward me.
My dart flew faster than he could react.
It caught him in the cheek, the coxberry I’d loaded quickly seeping into his blood. Coxberry was a sedative, and a powerful one at that. In a dose high enough, it would slow anyone and was easy enough to source, even here in Eban. Coxberry had the added benefit that it was cheap.
He dropped to the ground.
I grabbed his crossbow and took the bolts from his quiver. I’d dispose of those elsewhere. Dragging the man into one of the alleys, I tapped him with a little more coxberry, enough to let him sleep for hours. Long enough that I would have time to do what I needed without worry that he’d interfere.
As I left the alley, I came across two others, both carrying swords, and neither moving all that stealthily.
Two darts dropped them.
I left them near the first man, taking their swords.
If I had to remove each of the assassins Orly sent, I might be in for a long night. Which meant I had better get answers quickly so I could make a decision.
Searching the streets around the tavern, I found them empty. For now.
Climbing back to the rooftop, I left the swords and the crossbow bolts out of reach. Few used the roofs of Eban like I did, so I doubted I had to worry all that much about others coming up here and grabbing them.
I settled in to watch.
Anyone else I saw, I’d hit with darts.
As I sat
there, I worked through the questions I had. How much longer would the alley remain empty before others decided to try their hand at my craft? When would I have to stop using coxberry and switch to something more definitive? I didn’t want to kill the others, but I might want the job.
It left me knowing I needed to work quickly, which was exactly what he wanted, preventing me from learning what I wanted to know about this target.
Just when I thought I could choose my jobs, he comes up with a new way to force me.
Damn Orly.
I didn’t relish the idea of killing in the Durven. Practically everyone working in the tavern could be protecting her. Each, then, was at risk for Orly’s price. At five golds each, few would ask questions first.
It was a job I now had to take. Just as Orly knew it would be.
Motion at the edge of the Durven came where stone met wood as the building stretched another two stories. Fading paint chipped off the wood, giving the Durven a dull and rundown appearance the interior did nothing to contest. I stared, waiting for what drew my attention, and saw a flicker of shadows. Nothing else.
If it were one of the assassins that had come so far, I wouldn’t have to wait long. They weren’t all that skilled—though I suspected that would change.
I blinked, my Sight clearing the night. Then I saw her.
Even from here, she was lovely. Her dark hair caught the faintest reflection from the lanterns, and her skin had a soft glow that reminded me of a woman I’d once cared for in my homeland. Her dress was more modest than most in Eban, but still revealing.
What had she done?
Better yet, what had she stolen?
What was worth the fifty or more gold tils Orly offered? I couldn’t think of anything that would be that valuable, but for him to put that kind of price on it…
A nagging uncertainty bothered me. I needed to know before I took the job.
Moving carefully, I jumped down from the rooftop. Heights didn’t bother me, but the fall could injure me just the same as any other. Thankfully, my gifts gave me more than just eyesight. Agility, too.
I landed silently and crept around to the corner where she stood, staying in deep pockets of shadow only my Sight could penetrate. She would not even know I was there.
My heart thrummed slightly as it always did. Part of me hated what I did, hated I was good at it, but I knew if I wasn’t the one doing the killing, another would be. And there just weren’t many things someone like me could do.
The small dart of coxberry slipped between my fingers. Instant sedation. Then I could ask questions. After that, I could go to terad. A painless death. Just a flick of my wrist and it would be done.
Perhaps I could even leave the women in the tavern alone. Twenty gold was coin enough for a job like this.
I readied to step out of the shadows, the dart pressed softly between my fingers, when she spoke.
“How much does he pay you?”
She had known I was coming. Somehow. Few ever caught me so unaware.
“Am I worth it?” she asked.
She didn’t turn to ask the question. Her voice was soft, almost musical, and reminded me of home.
As I crouched in the shadow from the nearby building, I considered my next move. The clouds had thickened, so even the light of the moon was obscured. Barely any of the distant lantern light reached this far past the Durven. I could reach her with the dart from here and no one would ever see the attack.
But then she turned.
Her face was as lovely as the first time I saw her. Dark hair flowed toward her shoulder, the sheen even brighter at street level. Full lips practically glowed. Her dress—so elegant and out of place for the Durven—clung to her body.
I fingered the dart, readying to flick it, but refrained.
“What did you do?” I asked, staying in the shadows.
She strained to keep her face neutral but failed. Others may not have noticed, but I saw the effort she put into keeping her mouth tipped in the hint of a smile, the way her eyes were drawn, the tension she carried in her tight cheeks.
“Nothing but live,” she answered.
I frowned at the response. “A heavy price for such a common offense.”
She stepped forward and I felt a soft fluttering, almost like a breeze brushing my hair, but the air was still. “You’re the man from the other night.”
I slid back another quiet step, pulling the shadows around me. My back brushed the wall of the neighboring building—once a bakery but now just an empty shell—and readied the dart.
A sudden question came to me. How had she recognized me? We didn’t speak the night I first saw her. I was certain none other than someone like myself could see me where I stood.
Damn.
The fluttering I felt suddenly made sense.
Too late, I pushed a mental barrier in place. Since leaving home, I rarely had the need.
I stepped forward then, knowing hiding didn’t matter, not with this woman. “You’re a Reader.” Now I understood how she knew I was there. And what my intention was. The Readers in Elaeavn could pick up all of that, could trace through someone’s mind unless they were skilled enough to block them. Most raised in Elaeavn developed that skill early, but outside the city, there was no need.
What a fool I’d been. Careless, too. Surely, she had known my purpose the first time I’d seen her. That explained the other woman’s behavior, the lack of real surprise when she saw my eyes.
She blinked slowly and I recognized the slight swirl of green in her eyes. I had overlooked it the first night. Depths of color mattered in Elaeavn, and the fact that hers were not as dark as mine were told me that while she might be a decently powered Reader, she wasn’t as gifted as me.
“And you’re one of the Sighted.”
I slipped the dart back into its pouch and leaned against the wall. I could not kill her. Not yet.
“Why did you leave?”
Readers rarely left home. The risk to them was too great if discovered. Most like us were feared when discovered, but Readers evoked something more than simple fear. And usually for good reason; few outside Elaeavn knew how to protect themselves against such an ability.
A flicker of emotion crossed her face, darkness mixed with sorrow. It was gone so quickly, most would have missed it.
She blinked again, and the swirls of green surged. Her face did not change but I felt a surge of anger from her.
“Does he know?” I asked, changing course. An edge of uncertainty pulled at me, a sense I had grown to trust over the years. I was missing something. “Of course he knows.” I shook my head. “That explains the price. Explains me.”
She frowned. “You?”
“How’d he discover you?” Readers were particularly careful to hide their gifts, especially so far from home. There were rumors of some abducted over the years, never seen again. I’d never seen it myself, but didn’t doubt the truth. With such value, it was strange Orly wanted her dead.
Her mask of emotions slipped. “By accident, really. He thought me a prostitute.” She shook her head. “He saw my eyes as I Read him.”
“Of course he did.” Orly made sure to watch everyone’s eyes. One more reason he was dangerous. “How did you escape?”
“You aren’t the only one with other talents.”
I bit back a smile as I wondered what other talents she possessed. Enough to make Orly think her one of the prostitutes. Enough to let her blend in at the Durven.
She blushed. Had I not known my barrier was in place, I would have suspected she read me.
“Nothing like that,” she said.
Had she read me?
I made a conscious effort to build up my barrier. If she was capable of crawling past my protections, there wasn’t anything I could keep from her. Her eyes didn’t make it seem like she would be that powerful a Reader, but what if I was wrong?
Likely, I was only out of practice. It had been years since I’ve been to Elaeavn, years since I had need o
f the barrier.
“Why does he want you dead? A man like Orly would have plenty of use for a Reader like you.”
She stepped closer and smiled. Her dress parted as she did and I couldn’t help but notice the soft curve of her calf as she moved. This close, I smelled a hint of lavender and alia on her. The sweet scent was almost intoxicating. I felt a powerful urge to grab her, kiss her deeply, throw her to the ground and tear off her dress as I…
Damn.
Those were my thoughts, but amplified.
She’d amplified them.
“More than just a Reader,” I muttered, digging my nails into my palm. The pain distracted me from her influence. If she was this powerful, it wouldn’t last.
I had to decide quickly whether to kill her or help her.
Her smile faded. “More than just one of the Sighted.”
“Why not leave Eban? Why hide here, at the Durven of all places?”
She forced another smile, her full pink lips parting and showing me just the hint of teeth. “He made sure that I cannot leave. And at the Durven, I can blend in.”
I snorted. “Not likely.”
“Only one of the Sighted sees me this way. The rest see…” She trailed off as she seemed to flicker, swelling and twisting as the illusion of a soft, plump prostitute settled atop her like a veil.
Impressive. I blinked and the illusion failed. “And Orly? What did he see?” I wondered if he recognized the change in her eyes or if he had a hint of ability as well. Either way, the knowledge was useful.
“I’m not certain,” she said with a little shake of her head. She smiled, tilting her head toward me. “What now?” she asked. “Terad toxin? Sword? Fall?”
I wasn’t sure if I heard her or if the thoughts simply flickered through my head. Images came with the thoughts, memories of each item flashing through my mind.
The color of her eyes meant nothing as I began to understand just how powerful this woman was.
And here I had thought Orly’s price too high. If anything, it was a bargain.
“Why did you let me find you?”
“Let you?”
“You were waiting for me,” I said. No use denying the fact I had not caught her unaware. If anything, she trapped me.
The Forgotten (The Sighted Assassin Book 2) Page 2