by Emma Couette
“No, I’m the one who should be sorry; it was foolish of me to assume.”
“Why don’t we say it was equal fault and leave it at a draw?” I suggest, holding out a hand.
She nods her head to her load of clothes.
“Just put them on the bed,” I tell her.
She sets them down gently and turns back to me.
“Is that a deal?” I ask.
She takes my hand. “Deal,” she says and we shake.
“Now that’s over with,” I continue, “I suppose I should sort through these clothes.”
“They’re really good quality,” Blake says, wincing. “I kind of looked through them. I hope you don’t mind?”
I wave a hand. “Whatever, it’s not like you would steal anything. No pretty dresses or baubles here.”
She raises a thick eyebrow. “Dresses and baubles?”
“You know, the ridiculous outfits normal girls wear, girls that aren’t me.”
She gives me a look. “If that’s what entitles being normal, then I’m certainly not either. I can’t stand dresses.”
It’s my turn to raise an eyebrow. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m serious,” she replies. “Cross my heart and hope to die. I wouldn’t be caught dead in something you can’t fight in.”
“Wow, I thought... You know what, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that I only want the red and black, so you can take your pick of the rest.”
“Really?”
“Why not? Have a seat.”
She sits down tentatively on the edge of the bed and we go through the pile of clothes together. I pull out a simply gorgeous black cloak with a fur collar.
“Oh my God,” she breathes. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Yep, Georges Fleurner.”
“That’s where I buy my cloaks, when I can afford them.”
“Me too. Guild, where did Ajax get these?”
“I don’t know,” she replies. “Hey, speaking of Fleurner, I’ve been wondering, where do you get your boots?”
And on the conversation goes.
We discuss cloaks, tunics, and boots, and then move on to weapons as soon as I mention how much I love the built-in belts the Resistance uniforms have. I learn that although the axe is her favourite weapon, she also likes swords and daggers.
We swap stories about our favourite blades and she tells me all about axes. I return the favour by educating her on firearms.
We’ve been sitting in my room for a solid forty minutes when a voice interrupts our babble.
“Oh, yeah, I simply adore that make and model, cuts through steel like it's pudding.” Bast is leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and sporting a ridiculous smirk.
Without even thinking about it, Blake and I send him twin death glares, then look at each other and laugh.
The colour drains from Bast’s face. He looks behind him and calls out, “Jax! You better come quickly! They’re scheming, plotting to end me.”
Ajax walks up behind him and stays standing in the hall. “Surely they aren't?” he says, smiling.
“Lock your bedroom door tonight, man,” Bast continues, “I’m telling you. Not going to sleep a wink myself.”
I smile and say, “Puny little lock won’t keep me out, Sebastian.”
His eyes grow to the size of saucers. “We’re screwed, Jax,” he breathes, “totally screwed.”
Blake laughs and says, “Relax, Seb, we were only kidding, or at least, I was.”
Bast bristles at the name.
“Oh, I was too,” I agree readily. Then I grin at him and wink. I’ve never seen a more frightened face in my life.
“Anyway,” I go on, “what brings the two of you to my humble abode?” I look at Ajax.
“We’re all going out,” he replies.
“Really? Where?”
“We call it the Barn. You’ll see when we get there.”
The Barn...
I recognize the name.
What...
Oh.
“Is that what you and Jenson were discussing yesterday? We have to seek someone’s approval or something?”
“Yes, it was what we were discussing.”
“Who is the him you guys were speaking of? And approval for what?”
“The him is the leader of our entire operation.”
I frown. “But I thought that was Jenson?”
“Most people would, but Jenson is merely second in command. He runs the Warehouse, also known as the Resistance West. Our leader runs it all, of course, and he resides at the Barn, or the Resistance East. As for the approval we seek... Well, that would be for you.”
“What?”
“Our leader is going to decide for certain whether or not you can stay with us, whether or not he thinks your inside information is worth the risk you may pose.”
I swallow back my sudden terror.
Assassins below.
Blake puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
I shrug it off gently. “Why now?” I ask.
“We’ve put it off long enough as it is,” Ajax says. “You’ve been here more than a fortnight. Don’t worry about it, Silent. He’s not ruthless. He won’t kill you.”
“How can you know that? I’m Silent Night. Lots of people want me dead.”
“He’s a reasonable guy, Silent. He’ll see the potential in keeping you, what you and only you can help us accomplish. Honestly, if Jenson hasn’t killed you yet, our leader won’t either.”
I sigh. “I hope you’re right because I’ve just started living; it would be a shame if I died.”
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Well, we should probably get going if we want to get back before nightfall,” Bast says. He inches into the hall and Blake joins him.
“Right,” Ajax replies. Then he turns to me. “Grab all the weapons you think you’ll need.”
I frown. “Why?”
He takes a step closer to me and says, “Because if he does decide to kill you, Silent, I want you to have a fighting chance.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Half an hour later, the four of us have just crossed the North River and are heading in a north-easterly direction towards the middle of nowhere. The streets in this part of Haven are country lanes and hold about four houses each.
“This place is lifeless,” I say, breaking the silence.
“It seems that way, but people do live here,” Ajax replies.
“It’s impossible to tell.”
“Ever wonder if that’s exactly what they want you to think?”
“I guess,” I agree. “Are we there yet?”
“Not quite.”
“It’s okay, Night,” Blake says, trying to be assuring.
I merely press my lips together and nod, not trusting my voice.
The houses thin out until we’re walking through empty fields. Long grass wraps around our legs and sways in the breeze. Weeds and wildflowers alike claim the earth as their own. I get a strange feeling in my stomach, something I haven’t felt in ages: fear.
“Almost there,” Ajax says.
I let out a breath.
Thank the Guild.
We walk up a hill and I see an old barn in the valley on the other side. Well, old isn’t the right word. The structure is ancient, red paint long peeled off to give it a pale pinkish look. Entire boards are missing and the roof has caved in. Wind rustles through the area and the wood creaks as the whole barn sways.
“What is this?” I ask.
Ajax looks at me and smiles. “Welcome to the Barn.”
I choke on a laugh. “This is your Eastern operations? You’ve got to be kidding me. We’re in the middle of nowhere and that thing looks like it’ll collapse at any second.”
“Appearances aren’t everything, Silent,” Ajax replies. “In fact, they’re quite arbitrary. It’s what’s on the inside that counts.”
I roll my eyes as he walks toward the barn, Blake and Bast close behin
d. I look on in disbelief. “What, you’re serious? We’re actually going in there?”
Ajax turns around. “Yeah. Are you coming or not?”
I look around, as if searching for a way out, and find no escape. “Assassin’s below,” I mutter. Then I march up to where they stand.
They take turns ducking under the sagging doorway and I bring up the rear of our little party. As I step into the darkness, I realize it’s not actually dark. That’s when I notice the ceiling and the little spotlights dangling from it.
What in the Guild?
Then I realize something else; the interior of the barn is not old or dilapidated at all. It’s new and shiny, the walls made of metal.
“What is this?” I ask.
“Our most guarded secret,” Ajax replies with a smile. “You want to see the rest of it?”
“Do I have a choice?”
He doesn’t answer; instead, he walks over to the far wall and presses a button. A hatch opens up in the floor.
“Ladies first,” Bast says, gesturing to me.
“Do you think I’m stupid?” I retort.
“Come on, Night, relax,” Blake says. “It’s just a staircase.” She jumps down into the hole. “See?” she calls up. “No harm done.”
I take a deep breath before dropping down beside her. Ajax and Bast join us.
“Down we go,” Ajax says. He types a code into a wall panel and the hatch above us closes. I follow them down the steps, hoping with everything I am that this isn’t how I die.
The descent is short, about the same time the elevator takes in my Guild entrance, but it’s a hundred times more nerve-wracking. I feel like I’m descending into the belly of a beast. In a way, I am. The beast would be the Resistance, my enemy for life. The last two weeks or so were okay. I handled it with ease, but something tells me this will be different. I don’t know why.
My brooding thoughts are interrupted when the staircase ends and we step into the open. I look out and can’t comprehend what I see.
We’re at the end of a bright, tiled hallway with checkered marble floors and white walls. The hall is approximately fifty feet long. Floor to ceiling double doors stand at the end of it. Each door is flanked by a guard. They’re dressed in grey uniforms much the same as ours, but their blue capes set them apart, not to mention the rifles they’re cradling as they stare right at us.
My heart speeds up. “Ajax,” I breathe, “I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can,” he replies, eyes ahead. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you through this.”
I grab his sleeve. “No, you don’t understand. I can’t walk down there. I can’t.”
He whirls on me, ripping his sleeve from my grasp. “You can.” He looks me straight in the eye. “Listen to me, Silent. You’ve spent how many years working for the Master Assassin and this is the time you decide to give into fear? I’m telling you: you’ll get through this. I’ll get you through this. I trust you, now you’re going to have to trust me. Got it?”
I nod, his conviction silencing me.
“Then let’s do this. You walk beside me. Blake and Bast will go behind. Keep your chin up. We’re not escorting you to an execution.”
The four of us set ourselves up how Ajax requested. I take a deep breath as we walk toward the doors and the two men with rifles.
Calm down, I tell myself, but it doesn’t work. By the time we reach the end of the hall, I can barely breathe.
One of the men looks at Ajax and says, “Name and business?”
“I am Ajax Forrester, agent of the third level, here with Bast and Blake, agents of the second level.” He nods his head at me. “This is Indigo. She’s a new recruit and we’re here to seek approval so she can continue her training.”
“Sounds good,” the man says. “I.D. chips please?”
Ajax reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of plastic the size of my thumb, hanging on a short chain. He hands it to the man, Blake and Bast following suit with their own.
The man takes a metal box out of his coat and inserts the chips one at a time into a slot on the bottom. They must hold information the box is able to read. The whole thing is beyond me; I never understood computers and they’re scarce these days.
After a few moments, the man hands the chips back and says, “All right, you’re clear.”
The men step away from the door and Ajax opens it for us. We enter a hallway much like the ones at the Guild and my fear lessons the further we walk. We come to an intersection and turn right.
“What’s with the key chains?” I ask.
“He has to make sure we’re not lying about our identities,” Ajax replies.
“Any good spy would be able to steal one of those.”
“Maybe,” he allows.
“You’re all fools to think that’s enough security,” I argue.
“Shhh,” he breathes, “we’re coming into the base proper now. Someone might hear you. Do you want to be kicked out before we even see him?”
“That’s another thing,” I say, “this him, your leader. None of you have said his name yet. Is it a secret? He does have one, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, he does,” Ajax sighs, “but we can’t tell anyone his name until they are approved. It’s a rule. Do you tell anyone your master’s true name?”
“No, we don’t, but that's because none of us know it.”
Ajax raises an eyebrow. “He doesn’t tell you?”
“No,” I say.
I may be the only assassin who knows, though the Charger isn’t aware of this. It happened by accident. I was creeping around the Guild one night when I was about nine, practising my ability to blend in with the dark, when I stumbled upon his office. That was back when he didn't have two or three assassins guarding the door day and night.
I heard him muttering to himself in the office, boasting about his latest exploits. It was something along the lines of: he said I could never do it, that I couldn’t take this city. “Sephtis Aeron,” he said, “you’re a fool.” Well, I proved him wrong, didn’t I?
I ran back to my room as fast as I could and barely spoke for the next week, fearing the Charger—or Sephtis, rather—would discover what I had heard, but he never came for me and here I am.
“Well,” Ajax says, “is it that weird that our leader doesn’t want you to know then?”
“I guess not,” I relent, “but at least the Charger gave us something to call him so we didn’t have to refer to him as him or the Leader all the time.”
Ajax raises an eyebrow. “The Charger? You’ve never called him that before.”
I realize that I haven’t, not out loud.
“So?”
He narrows his eyes. “Isn’t that the name of the black market leader?”
“Yeah, we borrow it sometimes, to throw you guys off.” The lie is smooth; I don’t even have to think about it.
He doesn’t seem convinced, but Bast cuts off his protest.
“Would the two of you stick a sock in it?”
We look back at him in surprise.
“He’s right,” Blake agrees. “Argue about it later, we have bigger concerns right now.”
Ajax sighs. “Okay. I hear you.”
We continue in silence, following him through the base.
The Resistance East is much the same as the Resistance West. Hallways lead to a variety of rooms. People in grey uniforms watch our little procession as we walk past and I hear whispering in our wake. I notice the place is quieter than the Warehouse, cleaner too. It seems...empty somehow.
Ten minutes after we arrive, we head down a silent, dimly lit corridor. At its end, one person stands guarding the double doors—a woman with black hair, a black uniform, and a crimson cape. She intimidates with ease and I know without a doubt that the mysterious him resides in the room behind her.
We stroll up to her and stop a couple of feet away. Blake comes to stand at my other side, Bast doing the same with Ajax.
The woman looks at us and smiles
. “Why if it isn’t Ajax Forrester and his little band of misfits. How’re you doing, kid?”
Kid? Who is she calling kid? She can’t be two years older...
But, on second glance, I realize that kid was warranted. She’s probably in her late twenties, early thirties. I hope I look that good if I make it to her age.
“Not bad, Trey, yourself?” Ajax answers.
She shrugs. “It could be worse. I see you’ve brought Sebastian.”
He scowls.
“And Blake,” the woman adds. Then she sees me. “Who is this, a new recruit? I suppose that’s why you’re here to see the big man. He...”
She trails off as she looks closer at me, real close, as if looking into my soul. She blinks her eyes in disbelief and I see a spark ignite in them.
“I know exactly who you are,” she whispers.
Are those tears building up in her eyes?
“You’re Silent Night,” she breathes.
How?
“Yes,” I say as she continues to stare at me. “How... How did you guess?”
She wipes her eyes—they were tears. “I’m sorry,” she says, “forgive me. You... You remind me of someone I used to know.”
“What happened?” I ask.
“I lost her.”
“I’m sorry,” I reply, and I am. She seemed broken as she looked at me.
“Well,” Trey says, regaining her composure, “anyway, the reason I know your name is that I was once a part of the Guild and I try to keep tabs on the assassins. You, my dear, are renowned.”
My eyes grow round. “What? You were in the Guild? You’re an ex-assassin? A...a traitor?”
“Yes, I betrayed them, same as you did, I wager.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Twelve years, give or take.”
My jaw drops. “Twelve years and you’re still alive? The Charger hasn’t found you and tortured you until you were begging for death yet?”
“Guild, no,” she says, using my favourite assassin curse. It’s proof enough that what she says is true. “You think I’d let him get to me with the goal I have in mind?”
“And that goal is?”
“I wish to destroy him like he destroyed my life.”
I grin. I could get to like this girl; we have the same endgame in mind.