Vicious Circle

by Elle E. Ire

We walked along the dim corridor, Kila close beside me and Jaren examining the walls. “The bones are hundreds of years old, perhaps older. The Guild must have moved in not long at all after the Givers of Life abandoned Sardonen.” He paused next to a protruding skull. “From the looks of these, though, the assassins themselves all died prior to middle age.” He pointed. “Wear and tear on the teeth is minimal.” At my raised eyebrows, Jaren shrugged. “I studied medicine to better understand my abilities.”

  I felt Kila’s eyes on me. I couldn’t look at her. If she hadn’t realized what she was falling in love with before, it had to be obvious to her now. Even if the Guild didn’t punish me for what I was about to do, our life together wouldn’t be lengthy. That is, if I rejoined the Guild. Her hand slid into mine and squeezed. My heart constricted.

  Only our arrival at the temple entrance stopped me from grabbing her and crushing her to me. Noise spilled out of the primary chamber: clinking mugs, clattering dishware, rumbling conversation—nothing out of the ordinary, so my entrance had not set off the warning system. The smell of cooked meat started my stomach growling. Zibrin roast, a rare mammal on Sardonen and a delicacy. Vegetarianism got old for me fast. I glanced at my watch. Time for the late-evening meal, then lectures, training, meditation, and sleep. The memory of my old life seemed so distant it felt like a tale told to me by someone else. I’d loved the routine, knowing within these walls exactly what I’d be doing at any given hour of the day, knowing exactly where I belonged.

  The warmth of Kila’s body pressed against my side. Now I belonged somewhere else, but I couldn’t turn back.

  “This would be a great time for that undefeatable army of yours to show up,” I said, disengaging myself from Kila’s hand and straightening my jacket. I smoothed my hair into place and brushed away the sand that had collected on my trousers.

  Jaren offered a helpless shrug. “Myth and legend, remember? Besides, I thought the Guild invited you.”

  It did. It just didn’t invite the two of them.

  “Wait here,” I told the T’rals. Time for some fast-talking.

  I stepped into the temple’s main chamber.

  Power. Power everywhere. In the walls, the floors, the ceiling. In the very stone itself, it surged and flowed. It rose up from the core of the planet, seeped into every organic structure, infiltrated every cell. It regenerated and propagated. In certain bloodlines, those with the genetic code to unlock it, those like the T’rals, it bound with DNA and passed itself from generation to generation. It lay dormant, waiting for the right mix of genes to set it loose.

  Just as the entity lay waiting.

  Here, within one of the accursed T’rals, it could tap into that power. The ephem tasted the energy flow, testing its compatibility. Neither good nor evil, the source could be used by both, and the entity drank heavily. The resurgence of its strength made the ephem giddy with euphoria, and its cavorting about Kila’s body sent the girl stumbling against the corridor wall.

  Her brother hastened to steady her, urging her to lean and rest, blaming the heat.

  The heat had nothing to do with it.

  Chapter 23

  ASSASSINS ARE notably perceptive. All conversation and movement ceased the moment I stepped into the great chamber. Heads turned; some hands dropped to their weapons below the long wooden tables. There was plenty of space between us. The eating area rested at the far end of the room, at the base of six steps leading up to the old stone altar.

  I made no sudden moves. Instead, I looked casually around the large space, noting subtle changes, the repairs to the damage I’d caused in my acrobatic escape all those months ago. They’d excavated a few more hallways leading off the main room. I remembered Micah debating the merits of expanding the usable space versus the dangers of potential cave-ins. Whoever the new leader was, he or she must have decided the Guild needed a bigger area in which to operate.

  My eyes went to the head of the main table, the one closest to the altar steps. Benn. A small glimmer of hope sparked in my chest. Benn trained with me, graduated to master a few days after I did. He alone hesitated when he discovered me with Micah’s body. My reacceptance into the Guild surprised me less now.

  Benn admitted to mistakes and listened to reason. He also played by the rules to the letter. The spark of hope burned out.

  He stood, hands away from his sides and palms turned toward me so I could see their emptiness. “Welcome home, Cor. Come in and join us.” His smile seemed genuine.

  A shiver of memory passed through me. The last time a Guild Leader invited me in, he tried to take my life, and the last time I’d seen Benn, he’d done the same, however reluctantly. The presence of Jaren and Kila behind me felt like boulders crushing me beneath their weight. Other masters and apprentices smiled as well, some raising their mugs, others inclining their heads in respect. My heart twisted. The outcast daughter had been allowed back home only to arrive and find the door locked.

  A frown replaced the smile on Benn’s face. “You’re among friends, Cor. Surely Yesenia delivered our message or you wouldn’t be here.”

  Anger replaced sorrow, and my fists clenched at my sides. “Yesenia went rogue.” My voice echoed in the stunned silence that followed. “She tried to kill me. With a ripper,” I added for good measure. “I spared her life, but I doubt she’ll be back.” I opted not to mention Alek. No point in adding more fuel to this fire. If he’d gone after me prior to my redemption, he’d only been upholding Guild law.

  Benn studied me for a long moment, judging the truth of my words. He nodded sagely. “Yesenia expressed concerns over your reinstatement but hid any real opposition. I knew about her competitive animosity toward you but had no idea of the extent. For that, I apologize.” For a man of thirty-two, he possessed a remarkable amount of wisdom and dignity. The early-graying hair and impressive two-meter height didn’t hurt either. I’d flirted with him on occasion, just for kicks, but never got anywhere.

  Rule follower, I reminded myself.

  And I hadn’t really wanted to anyway. I’d been loyal to Micah. Resentful heat burned in my chest. Wasted years. Wasted tears.

  My gaze fell upon the place beside the firepit where his body had lain. Traces of bloodstains marred the light-colored stone, but those had to be my imagination, impurities in the rock’s composition. Surely the Guild would have removed all reminders of his death. I thought of the skeletons in the corridors.

  Then again, maybe not. He might even be among them.

  Squaring my shoulders, I gestured behind me for Kila and Jaren to enter. Now that I knew they hadn’t set all this up as a trap, it was time to get everything, and everyone, out in the open. “Guild Leader Benn Narsus, meet Jaren and Kila T’ral of Lissex.” I kept my hands where everyone could see them, closed my eyes, and waited for the firestorm to hit.

  It didn’t take long. Chaos erupted as masters and apprentices alike sprang from the long benches, sprinted across the room, and, with weapons drawn, flanked all three of us. Benn approached behind them at a sedate pace, but a cloud of anger transformed his features.

  Kila squeaked as two assassins pointed lasers at her while a third held a knife at her throat. I took a step in her direction, even though I knew they wouldn’t harm her, and got an elbow in the gut for my efforts. The pain doubled me, and I glared at the apprentice teenager. Jaren remained calm, holding his ground despite the sudden uproar, looking every bit the religious leader he’d been born to be. He and Benn appraised each other, neither breaking the intense gaze. In this place, they were both home.

  When they finished sizing each other up, Benn gestured to the teen assassin. The boy disarmed me, knowing exactly where to look for each weapon, even the concealed ones. Guild trained. Guild predictable. Losing them felt like losing limbs.

  Benn seized my forearm. “I will speak with you privately, now.” It came out as a low growl. He raised his voice to the Guild and gestured at the T’rals. “Keep them here, watch them!” His eyes wandered over their gaun
t, tired, frightened faces, and his tone softened. “Feed them.” Then he dragged me into one of the new corridors leading from the central chamber.

  Muttering under his breath, Benn hauled me to another archway and a room I’d never seen before. And it was a room, not a cave. The ceiling above showed cracks but held, and several wood pillars had been brought in to shore it up. I realized this was more of the buried temple and wondered what it had been previously used for. Now it held a simple desk, two chairs, some storage boxes, and a cabinet housing weapons.

  A part of me considered going for them, but I’d never get to those shelves before Benn would have me. He probably had it locked anyway. Apprentices were always getting into things they shouldn’t. I had.

  Benn shoved me into the seat in front of the desk, while he perched on the corner of the polished surface. I felt like a student summoned to see the principal, although most schools didn’t execute wayward adolescents.

  “Do you have any idea what you’ve undone? How hard I worked to arrange your return? How many files of bylaws I searched to find a loophole for you? Do you?” His fury threw him into motion, and he stood to pace back and forth in front of me.

  I wasn’t sure which question he wanted me to answer. Probably none of them. I stayed silent.

  “I thought I knew you, Cor. You were steady, dependable, and you cared. It’s what earned you that ridiculous title.”

  I bristled at the insult, shoulders stiffening and jaw tightening. The Core of Sardonen. Yeah. I never thought it was ridiculous, though. I actually kind of liked it, though I never admitted that little egotism to anyone.

  “I knew, knew you had a good reason for leaving a contract unfinished, and when I researched the target and found his age…. We don’t kill children.” He sat down again with a huff and looked at me. “You’ll know that I sent someone after his guardian. That contract did get completed. The boy is living with an aunt and uncle now, until he is of an age to make his own decisions. He’s doing well.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” Benn would make an excellent leader, one to go down in the Guild historical records if he survived long enough. I could feel it.

  “Micah screwed up. That became clear. But rather than admit that in front of the Guild and step down as Leader, he decided to blame and punish you.” Benn raised one eyebrow. “And we know how that turned out, don’t we?”

  No, he didn’t. “Micah didn’t go after me.” My throat closed over the words, despite his betrayal with Yesenia. “He went after himself. He used my knife. I didn’t kill him.” I looked down at my empty hands, my memory flashing on them covered in my former lover’s blood.

  Benn shook his head in apparent disgust. “So, he couldn’t admit a mistake to save his own life and restore yours. Figures. And instead, he marks you with a double death sentence, one for unfulfilled assignment, and a second, public execution for killing him. I know you were devoted to him since your rescue in adolescence, but he was an egotistical bastard and a fool.”

  I blinked. By now I’d figured all that out and come to terms with it. But in my previous experience, Benn spoke ill of no one. And Micah hadn’t done everything wrong. “He gave me a chance to escape. He didn’t know you and the others would show up so quickly.”

  “He could have just let you go. But no, he didn’t want to lose face in front of the Guild.” Benn threw his hands up in frustration. “Enough arguing about the past.” His blue eyes bore into mine. “Let’s talk about the present. I have your unfinished contract declared void due to its inappropriate nature. That negates anything else you were forced to do in your own defense, like killing Micah or, I’m guessing, Alek, since we haven’t heard from him. Wouldn’t have sent him at all, but it was expected. I tried to recall him after the repeal of your sentence.”

  “I didn’t kill Alek either, but yes, he’s dead,” I admitted, wishing I could sink deeper into the chair. The wood was unforgiving.

  “I do all that, and you dance your way in here with two outsiders. Cor! You’ve left me no choice. You’ve exposed our hiding place, endangered the entire Guild, and saddled us with keeping them here and caring for them for the rest of their lives!”

  Which had been my intention. They’d be safe. I’d be dead, but Kila and Jaren would be safe. A sad smile tugged at my lips. Benn looked like he wanted to smack it away. His hand clenched into a fist, but he restrained himself with a cleansing breath, chest expanding and contracting. I considered telling him my reasons, but he would never believe me, not without some sort of demonstration of Jaren’s power, and I doubted he’d give me time for that.

  “There’s no loophole for this.”

  I had to try. “They needed protection.” My fingers dug into the arms of the chair. “It was the right thing to do.”

  “Hells, Cor, I don’t want to hear it. Let them hire protection. We’re assassins, not guardians, not nursemaids or nannies.” He reached behind his desk and pressed something. “I can’t help you this time.” A low chime sounded in the corridor outside the makeshift office.

  Right. Tradition and technology in perfect balance.

  A pair of masters arrived to escort me back to the central chamber. Benn trailed behind us, and I saw him over my shoulder, head lowered, spirit deflated, thoughts known only to himself. I understood his anger, though I’d hoped he’d hear what I had to say before carrying out my punishment.

  It occurred to me this moment presented my best opportunity to attempt escape, now, while only three guarded me. Three masters.

  Suicide now or public execution. Here, Kila and Jaren wouldn’t have to watch.

  It ended in seconds.

  I brought up both fists, connecting with jaws on either side of me, and at least one cracked. But Benn had me from behind, and I was still weak from our desert trek and other injuries I’d sustained. His massive hands grasped my wrists, twisting them painfully over my head. The movement forced me to my toes to avoid further agony and the dislocation of both shoulders. He whirled me to face him.

  I expected anger but saw sadness and mild surprise instead. “I wondered if you’d fight. Didn’t think you would. You know you broke our laws, and you knew the consequences.” He lowered me enough to place my boots flat on the floor but didn’t release me.

  “Do this here,” I begged him. The idea of pleading galled me in the past, but it didn’t faze me now. “Take that knife off your belt and end this.” I choked on a half sob and saw his blink of shock at my emotional weakness. I didn’t care. “Please don’t make them watch.” A single tear rolled down my cheek. “Please….”

  The other masters shifted in embarrassment and disgust. One held his jaw and glared. The other avoided my eyes, but I could tell I’d affected Benn. He stared a long moment at the blade in its sheath at his side. The silver grip gleamed in the hanging overhead lights. Then he steadied himself, muscles tensing and shoulders pulled back.

  “No, Cor. Your decision, your punishment, your fate.” He let go of one of my arms, retaining his grip on the other and leading me into the grand chamber himself.

  I located Kila by her gasp. She stood at the central fire, warming her hands, but turned to face me when I entered. Her stricken expression chafed at my already raw emotions, and I knew the stress and fatigue showed through my features. I was too damned tired to hide them anymore.

  Until that moment, she’d probably thought I’d talk us through this or fight my way out of it. The way I’d been removed from the chamber, she had to suspect I was in serious trouble. Having me hauled back in like this confirmed it.

  Jaren stood beside her, one hand on her shoulder. He, too, looked concerned. “Cor, what’s going on?” I saw they’d discarded their packs, though their breathers and glasses still hung from their belts. No one guarded the T’rals. Where would they go? They were guests, permanent ones, and any Guild member could overtake them in a heartbeat if they chose to run.

  “You are not permitted to speak,” Benn reminded me in a low undertone.

/>   Or what? If I decided to talk, what would Benn do? Kill me? Didn’t matter. I wouldn’t have been able to get words out, anyway. And what could I say to them?

  Benn marched me to the marble altar on its raised dais at the end of the room. We stood behind it. From here, in this acoustically perfect spot, every ear would hear his words. At least this particular ritual didn’t involve stripping me naked. If this were for killing Micah, that’s what would have been done to me—complete public humiliation. Didn’t really make much difference, though. I felt plenty vulnerable enough without the removal of my clothing.

  “Corianne Sandros,” he began, voice resonating throughout the chamber, “you have revealed our location to outsiders and thereby endangered us all.”

  Two masters moved to stand beside Kila and Jaren, in case the benevolent twins decided to break with years of religious indoctrination and try something foolish. They needn’t have worried. Kila clung to her brother. I think she would have fallen if she let go. She stared at me, horror evident in her eyes. I wrenched my gaze from her, locking it on a bare spot on the far wall. I would not watch her watch this.

  “The penalty for this act against the Guild is death.”

  No surprise there. The penalty for almost every act against the Guild was death. We were a brutal bunch.

  Kila sobbed openly now. I wished someone would deafen me.

  “Do you deny these actions?”

  Stupid, pointless question. I led them in here, presented them by name. I was tempted to spit and roll my eyes, but I simply said, “No.”

  I heard the whisk of Benn’s blade drawn from its sheath, metal scraping on leather. The hand he moved to my shoulder surprised me with its gentleness. He removed my jacket and laid it on the marble, then turned me to face him, presenting our profiles to the watchers below the dais. From the corner of my eye I caught expressions of both anger and sadness—those who continued to oppose my return and those who supported it and regretted this act.