Silent Night

by Emma Couette

  “Well, you’re not. If you really knew me, if you really loved me like you claim you do, you’d know that. You wouldn’t have said that.”

  His eyes darken. “Would you just listen for a second?”

  “No,” I retort. “I’m busy. I decide my fate. You don’t own me.”

  I grab my axe and stand up, turning my back on him to face Blake. “Again,” I tell her.

  She hesitates.

  “Blake, he doesn’t own you either. Come at me.”

  She sighs, but lowers into a crouch and begins circling.

  “Silent...” I hear Ajax say.

  “Not listening,” I mutter.

  He sighs as Blake and I lunge at each other.

  We fight for another seven minutes before she sends me crashing to the ground again. This time it’s only her and Bast’s voices that I hear. Ajax is nowhere to be seen.

  Immediately, I regret my words and the abruptness with which I said them. I know I need to fix the seam I tore; I just hope it didn’t fray.

  …

  The problem with Ajax is that I don’t know where to find him. Yet, it doesn’t matter because in the end, he finds me. I’m just coming back from checking the cafeteria when I see him leaning against my door.

  I guess it says something in that he always comes back. I haven’t screwed up too badly. Yet.

  “Hey,” I say as I walk up to him. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  “Have you now,” he says, not as lighthearted as usual.

  I grimace. “Jax,” I start, “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I didn’t mean to sound so...”

  “Cold?” he offers. “Aggressive? Mean? Bratty? Like Natalie?”

  I flinch at each one.

  I want to lash back, but I am tired of ignoring the truth.

  “Right,” I say. “Look, I didn’t mean…”

  Ugh. Why is this so hard?

  I can’t meet his gaze as I blunder on, can’t bear to see his disappointment.

  “Mentioning how you feel...that was a low blow, even for me. I shouldn’t have brought that up, especially after I made my opinion in the matter so perfectly clear. I’ve done nothing but ignore this...thing between us.”

  Assassin’s below. It sounds like a sad excuse even to my ears. I’d rather pull out my own eyes than continue to have this conversation, but I’ve learned all too well that your mistakes will haunt you if you don’t set the record straight, if you don’t make things right. I have enough ghosts, too many mistakes I didn’t give a damn about.

  Not this time.

  I look up at him, taking control.

  “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” I tell him. “I know you meant well, but I don’t appreciate taking orders, especially after having escaped the Master Assassin. I don’t take too well to people thinking they know what’s best for me better than I do.”

  “Maybe I was trying to save you from yourself, like you asked me to.”

  I scowl. “That’s not what I meant.”

  He throws up his hands. “So what, I’m supposed to be able to tell the difference?” His eyes are fiery. “I’m sorry if I was trying to stop you from getting a concussion.”

  I cross my arms. “If I got a concussion, I would’ve learned my lesson.”

  “Oh, yeah, and you’d be in a great frame of mind to help us when the assassins attack then, wouldn’t you?”

  “I...”

  Guild, he’s got me there.

  He runs a hand through his hair. “Silent, being a part of a team means thinking about more than just yourself. I was trying to stop you from getting hurt because I know we need you.”

  I narrow my eyes. “You’re sure it’s not just because of your feelings?”

  “Yes,” he replies. “Of course I don’t want to see you hurt, but it’s not just about us.”

  “So what exactly are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that I know you are a strong, independent person. I realize I don’t have a say in what you do, that no one does, but I’m just asking you to try to see the whole picture. I bet you never thought I’d say this, but the Resistance needs you. I’m not trying to stop you from learning, Silent; I’m trying to teach you. There will be more moments to train, but not if you’re in too rough a shape to survive the next battle.”

  I hate his words, but only because I know he’s right. I’m too brazen for my own good and Jax is too kind for his. He keeps giving me chances; I wonder how many I have left before his rope grows too thin to hold our fragile bond.

  “I’m sorry for how I reacted,” I tell him. “I will try to be more...open-minded.”

  “I forgive you,” he replies, “and that’s all I’m asking.”

  In the silence that follows, the magnetic pull is stronger than ever. Again, there is that small gap between us, a gap that would be so easy to close. A part of me wants to close it, wants to explore this avenue and see where it leads. I want to let myself be vulnerable.

  Remember who you are, what you’ve done.

  Don’t give in to temptation.

  He’s lying.

  I clench my fists and pull away before he can notice the short distance I leaned in.

  The pull remains, but I resist.

  He’s lying.

  As he faces me with a smile and I look into those blue eyes of his, I can’t help but wonder if I’m lying to myself.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  It’s three o’clock in the afternoon when we get the call from Jenson. The four of us are hanging out in the cafeteria, waiting for news, when his voice comes over the P.A. System.

  “Would Ajax Forrester, Blake Solarin, Sebastian Foster, and Silent Night please come to the council room immediately. I repeat: Ajax Forrester, Blake Solarin, Sebastian Foster, and Silent Night, report to the council room at once. Thank you.” The P.A. System clicks off.

  I give Bast a quizzical look. “Foster?”

  “What?” he says.

  “It doesn’t seem to go with Sebastian. I would’ve thought you’d be more of a Luciano or something.”

  He laughs. “Probably; it’s not my real last name. All the orphans of the Resistance are given the last name Foster unless they happen to know their own. I wasn’t so lucky.”

  “Hey, could the two of you stay on topic?” Ajax asks.

  “Hmmm?” I ask, looking over at him.

  He sighs. “Jenson’s summons.”

  Oh, right.

  “What do you suppose that’s about?” Bast asks.

  “What do you think?” I reply. “The repercussions have started and Jenson has forgotten that I told him not to come crying to me.”

  Fear flashes in Blake’s brown eyes. “What do you think happened?”

  I shrug. “How should I know?”

  Ajax stands up. “We better go find out,” he says, and the rest of us follow him out of the cafeteria.

  …

  Jenson is pacing the length of the room when we enter, hands clasped behind his back, an anxious expression plastered on his face. He is alone. Something drastic has definitely occurred. I resist the urge to start our conversation with a smug I told you so. Barely.

  “You called us, Jenson?” I ask. “What’s the problem now?”

  He stops pacing and turns to face us. “Assassin,” he sneers. “So good to see you haven’t fallen down a well.”

  “Likewise,” I growl. “Now cut to the chase. We don’t have all day.”

  “Our problem is this: Haven’s main supply train has stalled halfway down the track with this month’s complete food shipment from the farms. We have no way of knowing if it is in any way related to the assassins, but it cannot be allowed to sit there unprotected until the problem can be fixed. Otherwise, the assassins will find an opportunity to use this to their advantage.”

  “I see, so it looks like you do need me after all. Imagine that.”

  He scowls at me. “I’m not going to beg, Assassin. Either you help us or you don’t. It’s your choice.”

&nb
sp; “Nice to see I have options,” I mutter, tracing a pattern on the table with my finger, “but your tone of voice seems to suggest I should agree to help or be shunned for all eternity.” I look up at him. “So where is this train and what would you have me do?”

  “I have already sent my best troops to the location; you are to join them in protecting the train and its cargo from all threats. I expect you to follow through with these orders, even if you come up against your former assassin allies.”

  “With all due respect, Jenson, they were never allies. I have the Resistance’s back and I will be using my knife to slit the assassins’ throats. Clear?”

  “As crystal. Now move out. The coordinates should already have loaded to Ajax’s GPS.”

  “We’ll see you around then and just know I am going to do everything in my power to survive, if only to spite you.”

  “I look forward to it,” he replies. “Good day.”

  We leave the room and Ajax turns to us. “Okay, team. You know what to do. Suit up and we’ll meet by the exit in,” he checks his watch, “ten minutes.”

  We all nod.

  “All right, move out.”

  We head to our rooms. I change into a simple grey Resistance uniform and go about arming myself. Five minutes later, I’m laden with two swords, a dozen throwing knives, four daggers, my two guns, and my new axe just in case.

  Five minutes after that, I join the other three at the entrance.

  Bast has a crossbow, two quivers, and a sword at each hip. Blake has an axe in her right hand, a long sword across her back, and a second axe on her left hip. Ajax has a sword at one hip, a glock at the other, dagger hilts sticking out of his boots, and a string of spare bullets adorning his shoulder. He cradles a heavy-duty rifle in his hands.

  Ajax sees me and says, “Everyone’s here, let’s go.”

  The guards wave us through the doors and we enter the streets. We walk through Resistance territory only, to keep from attracting unwanted attention.

  …

  It takes us forty minutes to reach the train. It’s four o’clock now and the sun is beginning its slow descent. The world is eerie; the sky heavy and laden with moisture. Either it’s going to rain soon or we’re going to be invaded by fields of fog.

  “We’re here,” I say to Ajax. “What do we do now?”

  “We check in with the agent in charge, get our assignment, and wait.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  He smiles ruefully. “You have no idea.”

  Blake, Bast, and I follow him to the engine car where he says our superior should be.

  We’re greeted by a tall, middle-aged man with black hair and suspicious brown eyes. He regards me with disgust and speaks to Ajax alone, as if the rest of us are invisible. This does nothing for my patience and I cross my arms as I tap my foot. I despise men like him.

  When the encounter is over, Ajax leads us back outside to give us our instructions.

  “Garrett says we are to guard the last car; everything else has been taken care of.”

  “Great,” I say, “of course we get the hardest job. Guarding the rear is hell. We’ll have to do the brunt of the fighting.”

  “If it comes to that,” he replies.

  “Oh, trust me, it will. I feel it in my bones.”

  I can see the others trying to shake off their unease as we make our way to the last car in the line. We arrive to find that Garrett was pulling our legs. The train car we’ve been assigned to protect is empty.

  Finally losing my patience, I pull out a knife and fling it at the side of the car. It penetrates the steel, going in a good inch.

  The others stare at me.

  “What?” I ask them. “I am so sick of being treated like I’m worthless because of where I came from. At least I’m honest; I know plenty of people that play at being good.”

  Thunk goes the second knife. An inch and a half this time.

  Nice.

  “We feel you, Night,” Bast says, “but there’s nothing we can do about it at the moment.”

  I sigh and walk over to pry my knives out of the side of the train car. “I guess we can still do our part in guarding the train, even if it’s just a metal shell.” I look over at Ajax. “Where do you want us?”

  “You tell me,” he says. “Where do you think they’ll attack from?”

  I’m surprised he asked for my input, but then I switch to defence mode.

  “They’ll come at us from all sides. We should open the doors and have one person at each. Bast, you can go up to the roof so you can pick them off with your bow.”

  He nods.

  “Blake, you can guard the north side. Ajax and I will both take the south because they’ll be more likely to send more of their troops there.”

  “Got it,” she replies.

  I look at Ajax. “Thoughts?”

  “I like it,” he says. “Everyone take your places and get comfortable. We could be a while.”

  Blake opens the car doors and heads to the other side, sitting down and hanging her feet over the edge. Bast climbs onto the roof and settles in for the long wait ahead. Ajax clambers inside and sits down, leaning against an empty crate. I stand against the wall.

  “Why don’t you have a seat?” he asks after a moment. He pats the spot beside him.

  I sigh and walk over, lowering myself to the floor. I sit with my knees up, arms wrapped around them.

  “Care to tell me what’s wrong?” he says.

  In a moment of weakness, I let the pull take me enough for me to lean slightly against him before I answer.

  “It’s just all these people,” I sigh. “Garret, Jenson, Ross, Natalie... They treat me like I’m dirt and I’m tired of it. Can’t they see I’m trying to help them? Can’t they see I’ve changed?”

  “Some people see what they want to see. They knew you as a ruthless assassin and they refuse to imagine you as anything else, anything more, but you don’t have to worry about them. The rest of us believe in you. You have me, Bast, Blake, and even Trey. You’re not alone.”

  “I know. I just feel outnumbered. It’s stupid.”

  He looks over at me. “It’s not stupid, Silent. Lighten up a bit. You’re difficult to talk to sometimes, you know that, right?”

  I hang my head. “Sorry.”

  “No, see that’s the problem. You don’t have to apologize for it. You’re stubborn, but I admire that. You’re determined. It’s what makes you... you.”

  I smile, leaning closer. “Thanks, I guess.”

  “Forget about all the people who don’t care about you and keep doing what you do best because people who are bothered by it aren’t important and people who are important aren’t bothered, or something like that. I can never remember it correctly.”

  My heart skips a beat and I sit up straighter so I can turn and look at him properly. “Where did you hear that?”

  “My mom used to say it. Why?”

  “My mom used to say it too. Did she read you those books...?”

  “‘The Cat in the Hat’ and ‘The Lorax’?”

  “Yes, that’s it! I used to love those. My mom would do voices sometimes or read the rhymes really fast until I was a mess of giggles.” I look at the floor. “Guild, I miss her. It’s hard when you lose all those who matter and are left with all those who mind.”

  “Yeah,” he agrees, “but that’s why you have to regain the people who matter, to find those with whom you can let yourself run free.”

  We sit quietly for a minute after and I lean my head against his shoulder. He doesn’t react, but his senses must be on fire. Mine are.

  This isn’t so bad, I tell myself.

  Is there any harm in needing comfort from a friend?

  Friend. As if that’s all this is, as if I can keep ignoring the truth, delaying the inevitable. The magnet keeps getting stronger and my resolve is weakening.

  I sit there and listen to the steady rhythm of his breath.

  He’s so warm.

 
; “So,” he says suddenly, nearly making me jump, “which one was your favourite?”

  “What?” I ask, pulling my head away with an inward sigh.

  “Which of those books was your favourite?”

  “Oh, um... Probably ‘Green Eggs and Ham’.”

  “Yeah, that was a good one. I liked ‘Horton Hears a Who’.”

  So we talk about Dr. Seuss and the blissful innocence of childhood until the sun starts to sink below the horizon and the fog rolls in.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  It’s twilight, the time of day where it’s difficult to see, where you’re not sure if something is a shadow or a figment of your imagination. The wall of fog certainly does nothing to aid the situation. We can’t see the enemy, but I know they are coming.

  As soon as the fog falls and the eeriness strikes, I feel it in the pit of my stomach, the undeniable truth that we are about to be ambushed.

  I jump to my feet and unsheathe my swords. “They’re coming,” I tell Ajax. I yell the message to the other two as well.

  Ajax stands up and loads his rifle. “Are you sure? How can you tell?”

  “I feel it in my gut and trust me; I know what it feels like to have an assassin stalking you.”

  “I trust you,” he says and then louder, “Bast, Blake. Hold your positions. Weapons ready.”

  They don’t answer, not wanting to give away their whereabouts. We need to have some kind of advantage. I suspect the assassins aren’t expecting someone to be on the roof, so they won’t guard their heads. I tell Jax as much and we stand side by side as we wait for the assassins to emerge from the mist.

  It doesn’t take long before I see shadows moving in the murk.

  “Show yourselves,” I call out. “Let us know if you’re friend or foe, or we will attack.”

  No reply comes, which is answer enough.

  “It’s them,” I whisper.

  Jax nods.

  I sheath my swords in favour of my guns and sink into a crouch.

  “Now!” Ajax yells.

  I take a step forward and start shooting, collapsing several shadows. I hear the sound of gunfire echoing down the length of the train.

  Good, the others have seen the threat.