Silent Night

by Emma Couette

  “Hey,” Bast retorts, “we’re not that bad.”

  “Sure,” Ajax replies, “says the guy who almost dropped the axe on his foot last time.”

  I smile at that as I consider my answer. I don’t want to say no; it might ruin this sense of camaraderie we’ve got going on. On the other hand, I don’t want to say yes either.

  Why does it have to be a battle axe? Why couldn’t it be something else, anything else?

  I take a deep breath. “Sounds like a deal,” I tell her. “When were you thinking?”

  “Right now,” she replies.

  Great.

  “Guess I’m ready for it; Bast didn’t tire me too much.” I grin at him and he scowls again.

  Blake beams. “I’ll go get us a pair of axes then.”

  She heads off to the weapons rack and I wait, stomach tying itself into knots.

  This isn’t going to end well.

  I weigh the borrowed axe in my hand, swinging it back and forth to get a feel for it. I take a deep breath to keep myself from shaking. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. It’s not like this duel is a matter of life and death; it’s a matter of social standing, but in this case, it’s a battle of significantly more importance.

  Blake paces the floor six feet across the mat from me. She holds the axe comfortably in her hand, like it’s nothing more than an extension of her arm. I hold the double-bladed monstrosity like it’s going to leap up and decapitate me at any second, though the blade is blunt. The extra weight of the padding Ajax made us put on isn’t doing much to assure me either.

  I’ve never much liked axes. They’re too heavy and cumbersome, definitely not the ideal weapon to lug around town. I hate to say it, but I’m almost certain I’m going to lose this duel.

  “All right, girls,” Bast says, “take it easy on each other now.”

  I roll my eyes, but say nothing as I sink into a ready position.

  Blake mirrors me, smiling a confident little grin.

  Fire flares inside me. I will not let some Resistance agent best me.

  It’s game on, Blake. Game on.

  We wait a few seconds more before Bast’s voice punctures the silence. “Now!”

  We charge.

  Our weapons collide mid-strike as we both aim for the head. My heart beats wildly in my chest.

  Focus.

  I step back and twist as she swings at my waist. It takes considerable effort, but I manage to execute a counter strike at her unprotected left side.

  She sees it coming a mile away. Dodging the blow with ease, she strikes out at my legs, forcing me to jump out of the way. It knocks me off balance, costing me precious seconds and any advantage I might’ve had.

  Guild.

  My anger distracts me for a single second, but it’s enough.

  Crushing pain blooms through my chest and I fly across the mat, crashing to the ground several feet away. I lose my grip on the axe and it clatters to the floor.

  Assassins below.

  I might forget my plans and kill that girl.

  Ajax runs over to me. “Silent! Are you okay?” He leans down and holds out a hand to help me up.

  I swat it away. “I’m fine,” I gasp. My head is spinning and my ribs are throbbing.

  She will pay. Oh, she will pay.

  “You don’t look fine,” he argues. “Come on, let me help you.”

  “I’m fine! Leave me alone!”

  He jumps back, startled by my tone.

  I struggle to my feet, ignoring the floor as it spins. Then I lock eyes with Blake. “What the hell was that?” I snap. “You could’ve killed me! I thought this was supposed to be a bit of fun competition?”

  She winces. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought you’d block that.”

  Liar.

  “Well I didn’t.”

  Bast jumps in between the two of us. “Hey,” he says. “Hey! Let’s not get feisty. It was an accident. She’s sorry. You’re alive. Everything’s good, right?”

  “Wrong,” I reply, and then I march out of the room. I’ve had enough of their stupid games.

  …

  I sit cross-legged on my bed, my throwing knives spread out beside me. I pick them up one by one and fling them at the door. Five hang quivering in it now and chunks of wood are missing from its face. Wood chips and sawdust litter the floor beneath it.

  Blake.

  I can see her dark silhouette in front of me.

  She thinks she’s all that, thinks she can get away with trying to kill me as if I wouldn’t notice...

  Thud!

  My arm moved of its own volition, my thoughts propelling it forward. I check the door.

  Damn.

  It was only a shoulder shot. It wouldn’t kill her.

  Oh no, not precious Blake the axe wielder.

  Cur-thump!

  I smile wider.

  That’s much better.

  I jump off of the bed and retrieve the knives. Some take more effort than others, having embedded themselves deep into the wood.

  Once I have them all, I return to my bed and throw again—just as the door opens and Ajax steps in.

  The weapon hits the edge of the door instead of the centre and ricochets off, clattering against the bed frame before coming to rest on the floor.

  My eyes widen.

  That was a close one.

  Ajax glares at me. “What the hell, Silent? I know you’re mad at Blake but that’s no reason to—” That’s when he sees the door. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking out my anger,” I reply.

  “By drawing the outline of a person on your door and throwing knives at it?”

  I cross my arms. “Would you rather I go out there and throw knives at a real person? Blake, perhaps?”

  Ajax sighs. “You seriously wish her harm for what she did?”

  “She tried to kill me.”

  “No, she didn’t, Silent,” he argues. “That was never her intention. After watching you fight all evening, she expected you to block that move.”

  “But I didn’t!”

  I swear if they say that one more time...

  “Okay, you didn’t,” Ajax allows. “We see that. The point is, she misjudged and she’s sorry.”

  “Why didn’t she come tell me that?”

  “She tried to in the training room, but you refused to listen, and to be fair, I don’t think your room is a safe place for her right now. You know, what with you throwing knives at a door you’re pretending is her.”

  “Yeah, I get that, but...” I sigh. “Can you blame me? I am who I am and I don’t take well to near-death experiences. I’m used to doing the maiming, not being hurt myself.”

  “I understand that, but it doesn’t condone violence. What you need to understand is that not everyone is out to get you.”

  “And isn’t that a great way to be caught unaware.”

  “Oh, come on, Silent,” he exclaims, throwing his arms up in exasperation. “You can’t mean that.”

  “Yes I can, Ajax. You can’t tell me how I feel. You didn’t grow up the way I did, you haven’t seen the sides of people I’ve seen. You can’t understand. People would sooner take advantage of you than help you. They would sooner lie than tell the truth. And anybody who’s faced with death or ending the life of another will choose to become a murderer. That’s just how things are.”

  And aren’t you a prime example?

  “That’s not true, Silent. Not everyone is like that. There are good people in this world.”

  “And you might be one of them, Ajax,” I reply, “but I’m not and neither are most of the people in Haven. So I’m sorry for preserving myself by being paranoid and building siege walls around my emotions, but the world is a dangerous place and I intend to survive as long as I can. I’m not done with this life yet, not by half.”

  He gives me a sad look. “That’s all well and good, Silent, but what good is surviving if you never really live? What good is life if you spend it constantly looking over
your shoulder for the worst or locked up in a tower? You have to let yourself experience the joys of life: fun, friendship, love. You’re willing to give all that up so you can live longer, alone and unhappy?

  “I... That’s not exactly...” I fumble.

  To tell the truth, I’ve never thought about it that way, the things I’ve missed out on by concentrating solely on survival. There hadn’t been an alternative at the Guild, but now I have a choice. I can make friends and have fun. I can be happy without worrying about the consequences. I can be free.

  But am I willing to let my guard down?

  “Look,” Ajax says, “just promise me you’ll think about it, okay?”

  “I will, thank you,” I reply.

  “Existence is great and all, but what’s the point of life if you don’t live it?”

  I nod and he turns to go.

  “Night, Silent, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Goodnight,” I say and then he’s gone.

  I sigh. It pains me to say it, but he’s right. He is so very right, but I can’t help but wonder why he even cares. It’s not like it’ll change his life if I decide to start living. Maybe it’s because he’s a good guy and hates to see people unhappy. It’s that big heart of his and his leadership. He wants to protect people I guess, but I’m sure that in my case, he chose the wrong person to save.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  I wake to silence, which is strange, and it takes me a moment to figure out why that is. I wasn’t woken by a knock on my door.

  So why am I awake?

  It can’t be any kind of danger; my hair isn’t standing on end.

  I open one eye a sliver and scan the room by rolling over, as if I’m doing it while sleeping deeply. I find nothing out of the ordinary.

  Huh.

  I sit up and stretch. Then I hop out of bed and pad over to the door to look into the hall. Ajax stopped locking my door a few days ago.

  There’s still nothing amiss.

  What’s going on?

  Maybe I’m early, simple as that, but why would I wake up early?

  I go back into the room and check the clock: eight thirty-five. I’m not early; Ajax is late.

  Where is he?

  He usually arrives at eight o’clock on the nose, aside from the first day when he woke me at the ungodly hour of seven. Eight o’clock is the time now, not one second sooner or one second later.

  Maybe something held him up. Maybe he slept in. Innocent enough reasons, but what if it’s something worse? What if something happened to him?

  What if Natalie got her wish and he’s left me?

  I have to find him.

  I rush to get dressed, throwing on a grey suit and my cloak. Then I belt my throwing knives on and dart into the hall.

  I try to keep a reasonable pace as I travel through the base, not wanting to look like I’m up to something, but it’s killing me. I don’t even know where to start looking. I have no idea where his room is.

  After several moments of thought, I decide the cafeteria would be the best place. Blake or Bast might be there and they would know if he has a good reason for being late. Maybe he was called out on a last-minute mission or something.

  It takes a great amount of effort not to break into a run as I make my way to the cafeteria.

  Guild, is it always this far away? Did I take a wrong turn?

  But then, there it is. I burst through the doors into a room of sleepy people. No one looks up as I enter. I scan the room for Bast or Blake and then...

  Then I see him: Ajax, sitting at the squad table, laughing along with Bast.

  He’s okay.

  I feel foolish. My reaction was stupid and completely out of character.

  Since when do I care about the welfare of others? What is wrong with me?

  Shaking off my panic, I get in line for food and quietly accept a bowl of cereal. Then I go over to our table.

  “Morning,” I say as I sit down across from Ajax.

  “Hey,” Ajax replies with a smile. “I see you finally decided to wake up.”

  I purse my lips. “You could say that, seeing as a certain person wasn’t there to do so.”

  “You wake her up every morning?” Bast says, raising a suggestive eyebrow.

  Ajax rolls his eyes. “That’s not what she means, Bast, you dirty little...”

  I try not to blush.

  “I just knock on her door,” Ajax finishes.

  “Right,” Bast says.

  Ajax scowls at him.

  “You didn’t knock today,” I point out.

  “I know,” Ajax replies.

  I know, as if it isn’t a big deal.

  “I... Where were you?” I fidget with my spoon, swirling it around the bowl.

  “In my own room and then I came straight here, why?” He’s giving me a strange look, but I’m not the only one acting weird here.

  “Why weren’t you there?” I ask him.

  “Is it that big of a deal? I decided you don’t need me to watch you every single second of the day. Surely you’re capable of waking up on your own?”

  I drop the spoon will a hollow ding against the rim of my bowl.

  Is he really that stupid?

  “That’s not what this is about,” I say, fighting to keep my volume under control.

  “Okay,” he relents. He looks over at Bast. “You think you could excuse us for a minute?”

  Bast waves a hand. “Sure, go resolve your issues.”

  I glare at him before I follow Ajax out into the hall.

  He leads me to a quiet, secluded corridor and then turns to face me. “What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy to have some freedom. It can’t be all that great to have me breathing down your neck from sunrise to sunset every day.”

  “I appreciate the freedom, but…” I bite my lip. “Do you think it’s wise to leave me by myself? I... I could do anything. I could go on a freak killing spree. I could leave and take the coordinates of your base to the Guild. I—”

  He holds up a hand and I cut myself short. “The fact that you didn’t do any of those things is exactly the reason why I decided this.”

  Funny, he’s right again. My first thought when I woke up alone wasn’t to escape or kill, it was to find him.

  What does that say about me?

  “I...”

  “Relax, Silent. I told you: I trust you.”

  I can’t accept that answer. “How can you? You’ve known me for what, two weeks? Ajax, that’s crazy.”

  What does he see in me that I can’t see in myself?

  He puts his hands in his pockets. “Like I said before, I consider myself an excellent judge of character and I’ve deemed you trustworthy.”

  “But I’m not!” I protest, throwing out my hands. “I’ve been murdering people since I was ten. I’m a horrible person.”

  “No,” he says, grabbing my wrists.

  I don’t shrink away from his touch.

  “Don’t say that. You’re not a horrible person. The fact that you know killing is wrong immediately sets you apart from the rest of the assassins. Your old Master is the horrible person, Silent. He fashioned you into a weapon for killing, he made you the way you are. It’s not your fault.” He drops my arms, but not my gaze. His eyes burn into mine. “In a duel, is the sword the killer? No, the person wielding it is. You’re not the person in the wrong; you never knew any better.”

  “So, what, you’re saying I’m a sword?”

  “No. I…” He scratches the back of his head. “It’s a metaphor. I’m saying you have the capacity for change. You can step away from that horrible life and be the person you were meant to be before he came along and ruined everything. You still have hope, and that’s why I trust you.”

  I don’t know what to say to that. Somehow, he keeps managing to surprise me, to throw me off of my game. I never have an answer for his poetic speeches. His words make me think, make me consider things I wouldn’t otherwise. Guild, I haven’t even thought of my plan in d
ays. Am I that good at pretending or is he getting to me? Getting inside my head, making me forget the real reason I’m here...

  “Silent? You okay?”

  I shake my head to clear it. “Yeah,” I reply, “it’s just that every time you say something like that, it catches me off guard.”

  I’m not used to being seen as anything other than an assassin, a killer.

  He runs a hand through his hair. “Truth be told, Silent, you’ve caught me off guard too. You’re constantly changing my mind of what a Guild assassin looks like. I’m finding you’re more than the merciless killer you make yourself out to be. Maybe someday you’ll be able to see it too.”

  “Maybe,” I mumble.

  “Are you going to come back to the cafeteria and finish your breakfast?”

  “I might as well.”

  He smiles slightly at me. “Let’s go then.”

  …

  After breakfast, Ajax sends me back to my room alone, despite my protests. He says he’ll come for me later. I still don’t agree with the whole “let the assassin roam free” idea, but I don’t have a choice.

  I’ve been in my room for about twenty minutes when a knock comes on my door.

  I let out a huge sigh of relief. “Thank the Guild, Ajax,” I say as the door opens. “An assassin and free time is a horrible combination. I—” Then I realize the person standing in the open doorway is not Ajax. It’s Blake.

  Her dark hair is unbound for once and it makes her look younger somehow, kinder.

  “Oh,” I say, “hi. I thought you were—”

  “Ajax?” she finishes for me. “I know, but sadly I don’t fit the description.”

  She stands there awkwardly for a minute.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, doing my best to sound polite.

  “Ajax sent me over with these,” she replies, holding up a stack of clothes she has cradled in her arms.

  “What are they for?”

  “It’s an entirely new wardrobe,” she replies, “black outfits, dark blue and green, red.”

  “No,” I gasp. “He didn’t.”

  She smiles slightly. “He did. He says you deserve it.”

  “I don’t deserve anything,” I mutter, “especially after the way I treated you. I’m sorry.”