Supervillainess (Part Two)

by Ford, Lizzy

  Chapter Five

  Aveline blinked in the dim lighting of the room. The window across from the door had been boarded up, though light peeked in around the edges of the slab of wood covering it. The small bedroom was lit only by two candles and a dangling light bulb. For a moment, she stood in the doorway, puzzled. It was as if she had been magically transported from the outer city to the inner city. The room was barren of every sign of wealth and consisted of wooden floors and walls, weathered furniture and few personal belongings, none of which appeared to be of value, except for a glass perfume bottle on the vanity. Even it was only of moderate value.

  She spotted the pile of books then, antique tomes from the Old World stacked on one side of the vanity. Each of the books was worth a small fortune in the criminal underworld. A bathroom with indoor plumbing – the only other luxury the room contained – was off to the right and a closet to the left. The room was clean and plain and smelled of the roses placed in a simple vase on the nightstand beside a skinny, wooden bed with rags for coverings. Neither pictures nor mirrors hung on the walls, and no sculptures stood in the corners.

  This is worse than my room, Aveline thought, recalling her cluttered bedroom in her father’s cabin.

  The girl on the bed seemed to be frozen in place. Her eyes were downcast, her long blond locks loose around her. She was barefoot and clothed in a cotton gown, the kind Aveline wore to sleep when she as a child.

  But this was not a child. Aveline estimated the girl to be around her age, slender to the point of gaunt – and breathtakingly beautiful with pale, flawless skin and small features. Aveline caught herself staring too long. She had never been drawn to women over men, but Tiana was the prettiest woman she had ever seen, prettier even than Matilda. She almost understood the appeal of a beautiful woman to a man.

  Aveline closed the door. She started to ask where Tiana wanted her dinner then stopped, recalling she was supposed to be mute. Crossing to the small table near the boarded up window, she placed the meager meal on it. The food and room fit together – but nothing else about this place did. Why did Matilda’s stepdaughter live in poverty, under lock and key? The girl contained absolutely none of the muscular toning Aveline did after years of calisthenics and weapons training. She was naturally slender without being athletic, leading Aveline to believe Tiana posed no physical danger to anyone.

  Unless … was she insane?

  It was the only other conclusion Aveline could draw, and it left her leery. Some of the poorest people on the streets displayed an unpredictable, dangerous sort of madness characterized by fits of rage and violence. Her father had been kinder to them than most, teaching Aveline that they would starve without charity, since they were unable to work for a living.

  If madness were the case, Aveline almost understood why Tiana was imprisoned in this room with none of the finery she might throw or break or damage in an uncontrollable state.

  Aveline waited to be acknowledged in some regard, especially after she dumped out the tea and rinsed the cup out, or for Tiana to eat her dinner.

  Tiana did not move or lift her eyes from the floor. Her shoulders were hunched, and she was tense.

  After an awkward silence that stretched for over ten minutes, Aveline retreated to the door and debated leaving. She had formed no real expectation of the person she was supposed to guard, and she was still startled by what she found. If Tiana’s family barely fed her and kept her locked up, what harm would anyone possibly want to cause her?

  Why did Tiana’s brother insist only Aveline could protect her? And why had Karl’s benefactor likewise claimed only Aveline could kill her?

  Aveline’s instincts were whispering, but she could not quite understand what they wanted her to know. Unlike Matilda, she sensed no danger from Tiana, but there was a charge in the air that left her edgy. Combined with the Spartan quarters, she had the sudden urge to talk to George and ask several more questions about her new charge.

  She made the decision to find him, and the slave quarters, then return before dusk. Most assassinations occurred between twilight and dawn. If Tiana’s brother were concerned about someone attacking her, those were the hours Aveline needed to be wary.

  She reached for the door to open it. Before she could unlock it, however, it was shoved open.

  Aveline stumbled back.

  “Dumb as promised,” a female voice said coolly. Aveline caught her balance against the wall. “Your brother wasted a whole ounce on this slave.”

  Aveline lowered her eyes when she saw the familiar blue of Matilda’s dress and ground her teeth to keep from reacting.

  Matilda closed the door behind her and breezed obliviously into the room towards Tiana.

  “This slave is yours, at least, until your brother returns and reassigns her,” she announced. “I will no longer be forced to wait upon you, hand and foot. If I hear you displayed any incidents for her to see, I will have you whipped, Tiana.”

  “Yes, Matilda,” came the soft, quiet response.

  “And you, slave!” Matilda rounded on Aveline. “My stepdaughter is of a delicate nature. Her blood has been poisoned by witchcraft and sorcery. She is forbidden by her father from leaving this room, unless her presence is mandated by him and him alone. If she displays any strangeness, you will inform me, or you will be the one whipped.”

  Aveline had a few choice words for Matilda but kept quiet. The bizarre explanation for Tiana’s seclusion made little sense to her, unless strangeness was how the wealthy described madness.

  “Nod if you understand, slave,” Matilda ordered.

  Aveline obeyed.

  The woman in blue crossed to the vanity and yanked open a drawer. She pulled out a clear, glass vial containing what Aveline presumed was the kind of illicit drugs that often drove people into madness on the streets. By its color, pure white, it was of better quality than anything found in the inner city.

  Matilda pushed the drugs into her purse and left the room. The sound of the lock sliding into place was followed by more awkward silence.

  Tiana remained frozen in place.

  Uncertain what to expect, Aveline studied her, this time noticing the bandages around one of the girl’s arms. Extensive scarring marred Tiana’s other forearm, and she bore bruises on the rest of her exposed arms and across one cheek.

  An uneasy feeling slid through Aveline, one akin to pity. She shook it off, not about to empathize with the girl she was supposed to kill in a few months. But she did decide to remain here rather than leaving to find George. Whether the danger to Tiana was Matilda, or someone else, she was unable to shake the instinct urging her not to leave the vulnerable, mad girl alone until she had figured out a little bit more about her.

  Her mind made up, Aveline crossed the room to the vanity, which contained one of the two chairs in the bedroom. The second was at the table. She withdrew the leather bundle George had provided and sat down to unroll it.

  Knives of rare metal, spikes of silver, throwing stars of bronze, and other essentials for an assassin were contained in the bundle. Aveline unrolled the entire thing before lowering her hands and admiring the valuable items before her. It was almost a shame to sully them with blood!

  Tiana’s brother understood the kind of weaponry assassins preferred. These were high quality, well made, balanced, sharp and polished. They were perfect in every way. When this was over, she could sell them or keep them, depending on how attached she became to the beautiful weaponry.

  “Can you use them?” Tiana’s voice was so soft, Aveline barely heard it.

  “Yes,” she replied absently.

  “I knew you were not mute.”

  Burn me. Aveline tensed and then twisted to see the girl on the bed nearby. Tiana’s gaze remained on the ground, but there was a small smile on her features. Up close, her skin was so pale, it appeared translucent.

  “I will not tell,” she added. “I know my brother arranged for you to be here. It is our secret. Matilda would have you burnt, if she fo
und out.”

  “I’m not afraid of her,” Aveline said resolutely.

  “I am.”

  The words gave her pause, and Aveline tried to understand the wriggling instinct.

  Tiana shifted from the bed and went to the table, where she picked up a red berry from her dinner plate. “I love strawberries,” she said. “Did you know they grow on plants?”

  “Um, yes. Where else would they grow?” Aveline asked.

  “On trees.”

  Aveline shook her head and rolled the weapons back up into a bundle. Madness had to be the case with Tiana.

  “Have you ever seen one?” Tiana asked.

  “Seen what?”

  “A tree.”

  “Of course I’ve seen a tree,” Aveline replied. “Who hasn’t?”

  Tiana’s wistful sigh was her answer.

  Aveline frowned. “How long have you been in here?”

  “Since my father burnt my mother at the stake after I was born,” Tiana replied.

  The response flowed so easily, without emotion of any kind, that Aveline was momentarily taken aback by the brutal honesty. Was this the event that drove Tiana insane?

  Tiana sat and began to nibble on the bread. She placed the strawberries in a line on one side of her plate.

  “Why do they keep you locked up in here?” Aveline asked.

  The blond girl’s hands went to her lap, and she twisted them. Her head lowered until her chin touched her chest, and she slumped, a beautiful, wilted flower.

  Aveline did not care for how seeing Tiana this deflated made her feel. “You don’t have to say,” she said.

  After a minute, Tiana straightened and began eating.

  It was too quiet in the small space. Aveline rose and paced. Whenever she gave herself enough time to think, her mind slid back to her father. Being active helped distract her. The room was not large enough for her to do any weapons or combat training.

  “I think strawberry is my favorite color,” Tiana said.

  “I don’t think strawberry is a color,” Aveline snapped, frustrated she could not release her emotions.

  Tiana went still again.

  Reading the other girl’s body language, as she had learned on the streets, Aveline sighed. “It can be if you want it to be.”

  “If you do not wish to be here, you need not stay,” Tiana said softly, sadly. “I cannot leave, and you can return when you desire to. We can talk more when you come back.”

  “To be clear: we aren’t supposed to be friends, Tiana,” Aveline said. “I don’t care what your favorite color is, and I’m not here to entertain you. Do you understand?”

  Tiana had wilted again. “Yes.” Her defeated tone was the same she used with Matilda.

  Aveline felt lower than her street caste breeding. She gathered up her cloak and bundle of weapons, uncertain how to react. Her original plan nudged its way into her thoughts again.

  “I’ll return before dark,” she said shortly and then left without waiting to hear Tiana’s response.

  The odd energy in the air around Tiana faded as Aveline walked through the apartment. This time, she did not glance once at the wealth she passed but strode as fast as possible without running to the slaves’ lift. Another slave was waiting for the door to open, and Aveline kept her distance, troubled by her interactions with the other girl and the instincts she could not decipher.

  Her initial impression, that Tiana was likely insane, left her dissatisfied. The girl, while different, had not seemed so mad once she spoke. If anything, she seemed lonely locked away in her room. Their interaction only perplexed Aveline more as to why anyone would want to harm the isolated, neglected Tiana.

  As an assassin, it did not matter why anyone wanted her dead, if he was able to pay for the murder. Death was a business transaction, and the relationship between sponsor and target was not her concern. Aveline had this facet of killing drilled into her. So why did her instincts urge her to examine more closely the two conflicting jobs she was hired for? Why did Matilda’s treatment of Tiana irritate her? For all she knew, Matilda was the benefactor Karl had discussed. Aveline had spent all of two minutes in Matilda’s presence and would not doubt the woman’s ability to murder her own stepdaughter.

  Disturbed as much by her own thoughts as her circumstances, Aveline stepped into the elevator box when it opened and rode the lift down to the base of the pyramid. She paused to orient herself before descending the stairwell into the basement.

  The halls were narrower here and whitewashed, lit by electricity but showing the wear of generations of slaves walking these paths on their way to serve their masters. She began walking without knowing exactly where she was supposed to go and soon discovered the connecting corridors and random intersections to be a confusing maze. She crossed the paths of several other slaves but feared asking for directions when she was supposed to be mute. Tiana was probably not going to tell her evil stepmother about Aveline, but she dared not risk trusting other strangers with the secret.

  At long last, after half an hour of searching, she reached a long hallway lined by dozens of doorways, each of which was marked by a different color sash. She slowed and peered into the first few doors. Large bays containing wooden bunk beds stacked four high and armoires appeared well kept, if worn. Several people were sleeping in the bunks, and she quickly assessed the dorms on the right hand side were for men, those on the left for women.

  Doorways designated by green sashes were at the far end of the hallway and numbered twice as many as any of the other sashes. She entered one of the three on the women’s side at random.

  “That’s her.” The quiet voice came from a corner near the door.

  Aveline glanced towards the five women seated at a round table, eating. All of them glared at her with varying degrees of unfriendliness. Unconcerned, Aveline ventured farther into the dorms and sought some sign the bunks were assigned or claimed before she selected one.

  “You don’t belong here, new girl,” one of the women called gruffly.

  Aveline returned to the front of the bay. She pointed to the dorm on the right and then the one on the left then shrugged, hoping to convey she did not know which was hers.

  “I don’t mean you don’t belong in these barracks,” the woman said. “I mean, you don’t belong here at all.” She stood. Aveline was startled by her size. At close to six feet tall, with short hair and an athletic build, the woman before her resembled a soldier in the Shield.

  “You stole Jacque’s position. She was supposed to be promoted to a Hanover’s personal slave,” another piped up.

  “My family has been serving the Hanover’s for nine generations. Nine. And they give the position to a mixed girl off the streets?” Jacque, the towering woman, shook her head.

  Don’t push me, Aveline warned silently. While nothing suited her mood or spiked her Devil’s need for blood more than a confrontation, she recalled how many times George had tried to tell her not to make waves. For his sake, she decided to ignore Jacque. Aveline paced towards the door. She could return later, after talking to George, or take up residence in one of the other dorms.

  Jacque moved quickly to block her path.

  Aveline assessed her with expert eyes. She had nothing to fear from anyone here. If they had been servants their whole lives, they had no experience surviving on the streets or fighting.

  But she did.

  “I don’t like you, new girl.” Jacque said and shoved her. “You ought to know your place here. You should be on the bottom floor, serving the Willows and not all the way at the top where I belong. I deserve this!”

  Aveline’s anger sparked. If only George hadn’t claimed she was mute! Once again, she tried to avoid the confrontation she knew was coming by skirting Jacque to reach the door.

  The woman moved into her way again.

  Aveline sighed. A fight on her first day was not the best way to start off, but neither was she going to take a beating or abuse. She rolled the bundle of weapons into he
r cloak and set them on the ground nearby then returned to the position in front of Jacque, prepared to set the boundaries the tall woman desperately needed to learn.

  Ready for a fight, Aveline was willing to let Jacque throw the first and only punch when her instincts blared a warning. Before she could whirl to face the danger, one of the other women had thrown a blanket over her head and torso and then grabbed her, trapping her arms against her body.

  Blinded, Aveline grunted when Jacque punched her in the abdomen and then the chest.

  The other women began to cheer and encourage the jealous slave, their voices swelling as more slaves joined their ranks to watch.

  A familiar sense of calm fell over Aveline as her training and instincts synced with one another and began to guide her. She lashed out with her legs and felt them strike flesh. She threw her weight around to try to dislodge the woman holding her. More blows fell all over her torso, and she bore them without making any sound that might give away her secret.

  Aveline managed to throw off the balance of the woman holding her by swinging her legs and knocking them both to the ground. She thrashed loose from the blanket amid vicious kicks. With her vision unhindered, she snatched the next kick aimed at her head and twisted the woman’s foot, yanking her leg all the way around and sending her tumbling to the ground.

  Launching to her feet, Aveline fearlessly entered the fray with fists and kicks swinging. The crowd around them was somewhere around a dozen, and six additional slaves were trying to hit her.

  Six untrained combatants were a nuisance but nothing Aveline was unable to handle. She slammed the head of one into the wooden post on a bunk bed, smashed her heel into another’s throat, and unleashed an avalanche of rapid punches into two more. Her father had required her to be trained in street fighting as well as the more traditional, dignified martial arts, and she held nothing back as she fought off the slaves who meant to bury her so one of them could take her place. Her Devil’s blood cheered her on, urged her to every last one of her opponents.

  “Stop this! Immediately!” The sharp command came just as Aveline dropped the last of her attackers.