Assassin's End

Darkness crept over the roofs of buildings, long shadows stretching along once-familiar streets as I made my way through Elaeavn cupping my pouch and darts close to my side, careful not to make any noise. The only sound was that of my breath in my ears and the pounding of my heart, enough that a Listener might know how to find me, but hopefully not any others. 

Cael walked next to me, her feet no louder than slippers on tile, a natural as she stalked through the darkness wrapped in a long wool cloak and now carrying a slender knife in one hand that fit her nearly as well as the cloak. 

“You’re too cautious,” she whispered to me.

“I don’t like being here.” 

She laughed softly, the sound at once so sweet and surprising. A part of me still couldn’t believe that she had chosen to stay with me after returning to the city. I had wanted nothing more than to return her safely—and I had—but now that we were here… now I wished that I could be anywhere else. 

“This is your home,” she said. 

I shook my head. “This hasn’t been my home for more years than I wish to remember.” 

I used to think that I knew the course of my life. There was a time when I thought I would be a healer, not a Healer like Della, but at least one who would be able to help the people of my homeland. A single mistake changed all that, left me exiled from my home. Forgotten. And now I had returned. 

A different person returned to Elaeavn than the one who had left. Forced to leave, really. The person who left wanted to learn how to heal, how to use plants and medicines to take illness from those who suffered. The person who returned had learned to twist that knowledge and turn it against them. I had taken the knowledge that Della had so freely offered, and Isander had tainted it. 

“This is still your home,” Cael whispered.

We stopped along a wide street in what was called Lower Town, the poorer part of the city, and a place where I felt most comfortable after my years living outside of Elaeavn. When I had been here, I hadn’t realized the graft and corruption within Lower Town. Criminals and thieves weren’t the kind of people Della served. She was a Healer, gifted in ways that I still didn’t understand, and helped countless people, so many without the ability to pay. Only, it had been the one who had the means to pay who had changed the course of my life. 

“My home is wherever you are,” I said to her. 

She leaned toward me, rising on her toes to do so, and kissed me gently on the cheek. “We’re both exiles now, Galen.” 

Exiles, but of a different sort. Cael had chosen exile in order to be with me, whereas I had been forced from the city. I wonder if I would make the same choice were our places reversed… but knew that I would. She hadn’t needed to Compel me to convince me to help, though, with her gifts, it wouldn’t have been difficult for her to have done so. I had never met someone as gifted as her. 

“You can still return,” I said. 

Her brow furrowed, an expression I had come to recognize as concern sweeping across her eyes. “I don’t know that I can. My father… you don’t know him the way that I know him.” 

I considered my brief experience with her father. As one of the Elvraeth council, he had made a point of telling me how little he thought of his daughter staying with me. More than that, he had made a point of sharing what he would do to keep me away from her. What must he think now that she had chosen to stay with me? 

She leaned up and kissed me on the cheek again. “Come on.” 

We pushed open the door to the tavern. Warmth radiated from it in a way that taverns in Eban never did. There, they were cold and dirty places, little more than a front for prostitution. I knew those taverns well. Not for the prostitution, but for the people and information that could be gleaned there. 

A musician played in the back of the tavern, and I studied him. Experience had taught me that musicians could be more than they appeared, sometimes dangerously so. This one seemed little more than a flutist, his lively dance lifting the mood. 

My eyes darted around, settling on the massive hearth. Fire glowed within, pushing back the chill of the night. Decorations—surprisingly all seemingly made of the rare metal lorcith and all exquisite creations—rested on the mantle, so out of place for a tavern like this in Lower Town. They would be out of place anywhere in the city other than the palace. 

Within the tavern, I counted seven people. Two appeared to work in the tavern: one pale-eyed man who moved quickly between tables, carrying ale, and another younger woman with sharp features who watched him. The tavern must be hers, I decided. 

In Eban, most taverns belonged to women. The Binders ran the taverns—and the prostitutes—as they gathered information. Elaeavn didn’t have such trade in flesh, but that didn’t mean there weren’t similarities. 

An interesting question came to mind: Would Carth have reached Elaeavn? 

I hadn’t thought of her in months. It had been that long since she had last come through Eban. Each time she did, she paid me a visit, usually leaving a pouch full of supplies and fresh darts. I never knew if it was payment for services that I still owed, or if it was for what I had already done. It probably didn’t matter either way. If Carth intended to use me, there wasn’t much that I would be able to do about it anyway. It wouldn’t surprise me if she could reach me even here in Elaeavn. 

Lorst sat at a table, staring at the door. He had looked up when we entered and set his mug of ale down. Both hands rested on the table next to it, but I had learned that with him, that didn’t matter.

“Come on, Galen,” Cael urged. 

I let her pull me forward, and we stopped at the table in front of Lorst. “Della said that we’d find you here,” Cael said. 

“She shouldn’t have told you about this place,” Lorst said. 

The woman sitting next to him punched him in the shoulder. I considered a moment. She had dark brown hair that hung to her shoulders, a sharp nose that seemed turned slightly up, and deep green eyes that took in more than I would have expected. Sighted, then. A flower hung in a necklace, a beautifully designed piece of work that likely would have cost more than I earned with a few jobs. Considering the way she looked at Lorst, I wondered if he’d stolen it for her. His ability to Slide would have let him get in and out of anywhere. Walls didn’t—and wouldn’t—restrict him.

“Yes, well, Della seems to think that we need to work together,” I told Lorst. When Della had shared that with me, I hadn’t been happy. This was the man who had nearly killed me—and Cael. And now I was supposed to find a way to work with him? 

“I disagree.” Lorst moved, appearing to flicker as he did, and suddenly stood next to me. “You can return to Eban, Galen. I’ll make sure to get you back.” 

“There’s nothing for me in Eban. Not anymore.” Even were I to go back, I had betrayed Orly. He had resisted placing a price on my head for years because I was valuable to him, but that had changed the moment I betrayed him. I had wondered why this time was different, but learning what Cael possessed, I thought that I understood. He wanted the crystal even though as one not of Elaeavn, there was nothing that he would have been able to do with it. 

“There’s nothing for you here, either,” Lorst said. 

I glanced at Cael. “There’s her.” 

Her deep green eyes surged. I wondered if she Read me. Once I had thought that my mental barriers were strong enough that no Readers would be able to crawl past them, but then I met her. Not only had she managed to get past my mental barriers, she had done so with such ease. And I didn’t care. Not any longer. Before we had returned to Elaeavn, I had left my barriers down, both because it didn’t matter with her and because I had nothing to hide. 

An older man with short, close-cropped gray hair bounced out from behind a door I suspected led to the kitchen. He carried a pair of mugs in his hands and a wide smile spread across his face. For a moment, I thought his pale green eyes flashed a brighter green, but then it was gone, faded as if it were never there. 

“Welcome to the Wretched Barth,” he said. 

I nodded. “The tavern came highly recommended.”

The man’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Oh? And may I ask who recommended it to you?” 

“A Healer by the name of Della.” 

The muscles in the man’s cheeks twitched as he smiled. It was a forced smile. “If Della sent you, then you’re especially welcome.” He made a point of looking at Cael, studying her with an intense gaze. Again, I thought that his eyes flared a darker green but wasn’t sure if I had imagined it. 

I took the offered ale, and he smiled. “You know Rsiran?” 

I glanced at the woman sitting next to Lorst. “I know Lorst.” 

“Brusus,” Lorst warned softly. 

I stiffened. That was a name I recognized from my time before, a man who was well known in Lower Town. Brusus was dangerous, connected, in spite of the fact that he had little ability, and likely would know that Cael was Elvraeth.

“What is it?” Brusus asked. He kept his eyes on me. He must have noticed that I’d recognized his name. 

“This is Galen.” 

Brusus’s eyes narrowed. “He should not be here.” 

Damn. 

My hand went to my pouch, and I palmed a pair of darts, already rolling them in between my fingers. These were coxberry tipped. A sedative, and one that would give me plenty of time to get away if needed. Without knowing what I might face, I didn’t want to risk something more deadly like terad, especially since Della had sent me here. 

Lorst flickered, colors swirling around him. 

He reappeared behind me. 

Damn. 

I’d come to the tavern thinking that I could find him. Della had pointed me here, and I hadn’t thought twice about the fact that Lorst would have friends here in Elaeavn, those who would be like him. Dangerous men. 

I shouldn’t have brought Cael with me, but then, I doubted that she would have remained behind. 

“Galen,” she said, pulling on my arm. 

I stepped back, pushing her with me. “Be ready,” I said to her. “Might need you to work your tricks too.” I said the last quietly, knowing that with her Elvraeth abilities, she would hear pretty much everything that I said. Even without them, she’d probably know, connected as she was to me. 

“Galen,” she said again, this time with more urgency. 

I flicked my gaze to her and saw a pained look on her face. Tears pooled in the corner of her eyes. She started to drop to her knees, and I grabbed for her, spinning as I did, sending my darts at Lorcith and then Brusus.

Anger bubbled within me. 

Someone—or something—attacked Cael.