by Chloe Cullen
Sighing, she stretched her neck, readying to dart around the corner to get back to the old, abandoned School for Diviners she would use to change her clothes. The Assassin silently toed to the edge of the alley, and was about to peer around the corner, when a bulky figure turned into the alley’s opening, and she found herself face to face with the son of the Legion President. Thoren Swarbrik.
25
Thoren couldn’t believe it.
He had been on a routine night patrol, having what was possibly one of the most boring nights he had ever had while patrolling, especially since both Cori and Trey had declined to accompany him, when fate would have it, Thoren had run headfirst into the Assassin.
In the instant he rounded the corner to check the alleyway, he hadn’t seen her at first, she had blended that well into the darkness. But when he heard the intake of breath at her surprise, Thoren had seen her figure standing as still as anything in the shadows.
In the second where there was only stunned silence between them, Thoren assessed the girl. She was a head shorter than him, swathed in black cloth that covered her from head to toe, her face completely hidden by the darkness of the hood around her head.
For that second, they just stared at each other. Or Thoren assumed she was looking at him.
Then she moved.
With a swish of her cloak, the Assassin turned on the spot and began to run in the opposite direction. Thoren swore under his breath as he gave chase.
She was Gods-damned fast, but Thoren was close at her heels, pumping his legs as hard as he could to keep up with her.
She turned a corner at a speed Thoren would have thought impossible, but he didn’t allow himself to slow down, instead he let his body collide with the stone wall so he could push back off it and keep going.
She was a few feet ahead of him now and gaining more distance.
“Stop!” he called out and cursed at the fact that his voice seemed to only make her run even faster.
She ran out the mouth of the alleyway and onto High street, and the moment she did, she collided with another Legionnaire who had stepped into her path.
She tumbled to the ground, but Thoren watched as she executed a perfect roll that had her back on her feet in an instant.
The Legionnaire had cried out, who Thoren then recognised as Willow, who was much less graceful than the Assassin as he sprawled to the ground and stayed there. Her small tumble had broken her momentum, and so by the time she was back on her feet, Thoren was on top of her. His arms circled around her as he let his own momentum have them crashing to the ground again.
The Assassin fell with him, and he twisted his body at the last moment so that his weight didn’t crush her into the stones beneath them. The Legion needed her alive and well for questioning. They hit the ground, the Assassin expelling a lungful of air and a gasp from the impact. Thoren stiffened slightly, a strange feeling spreading across him, as though he knew the person he now held to his chest, the small gasp she had emanated sounding too familiar.
She struggled under his grip, but he held firm.
“Willow,” Thoren said through gritted teeth, shaking off the shock of recognition, “help restrain her and remove the hood.”
Willow hurried to his feet and ran over to them.
Before Willow was able to reach forward towards the Assassin, Thoren felt a sudden burst of pain explode across his face, his vision going black for a moment.
His grip loosened on instinct, and the Assassin wasted no time in wriggling from his grasp. Thoren’s eyes were closed with pain, and he heard an “oopmh” somewhere near him, and a slight scuffle of feet.
Thoren opened his watering eyes with a groan in time to see Willow flat on his back, and the dark cloak of the Assassin disappearing around a corner and out of sight.
***
The morning after Thoren had run into the Assassin, Cori sat with him for breakfast in the dining hall, feeling terrible for him. He sure looked like he felt sorry for himself.
Thoren had shown up at her room in the middle of night, blood still falling from his nose, making him look as though he had run into a stone wall. Cori had almost whacked him on the arm for showing up at her door like that, instead of going to the healing bay.
Cori had taken him there herself, as Thoren told her through a mouthful of blood that the Assassin had broken his nose.
Thoren had sat in the healing bay, watching Cori with an odd expression on his face. He told her the details of the chase through the streets before he started asking her about how her evening had been with the Princess. Eventually, his nose was reset, and Cori walked the weary Thoren back to his rooms and all but forced him into his bed before she went back to her own. He’d been acting quite different with her.
Now, Thoren sat looking down at his toasted bread, looking miserable. There was a healthy amount of bruising shadowing both of his eyes now, and his nose still looked quite swollen after being reset by the healers.
He kept looking up at her across the table, giving her a strange look.
Frowning, Cori set her own toast down on the table. “Is everything okay? I mean apart from your nose…”
Thoren sighed, and then winced, bringing a hand up to his face. “Yeah, fine.”
She didn’t believe him but didn’t want to push the matter.
“Hey, man,” Trey said, dropping a hand on Thoren’s shoulder before he took a seat next to him. He nodded to Cori, and she gave him a hopeful smile that went unreturned. “I just heard about last night. Tough luck.”
Thoren grunted, taking another careful bite of toast.
“She won’t get away next time,” Trey said, reaching forward to spread some butter across his own breakfast.
“She’s quicker than you would think.” Again, Thoren glanced up and met Cori’s gaze, a wary look on his face.
She pulled her brows together at the look.
“Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. So far, she’s avoided us at every turn,” Trey said around a mouthful.
“Yeah, she has,” Thoren said, looking down at the table moodily.
“Soraya and I met with the President this morning,” Trey said to no one in particular. This caught Thoren’s attention and he looked up. “He told me about your worries about the Shadow Legion, Cori.”
Cori started and met his gaze over her toast. It was the first time Trey had ever addressed her directly in conversation she hadn’t started.
“Alright. Any news?” Cori asked.
“I told him about our conversation last night before my patrol,” Thoren said, speaking to Cori without looking at her, “he mentioned he would be increasing security around the Compound.”
Trey nodded. “We are pulling in Legionnaires from neighbouring villages and the borders of Everton. We can’t lessen our presence in the other holds, but we should have enough coming in over the next few days to ensure protection.”
“What about the rest of the Five? Are we going to get them back here?” Cori asked.
Trey shook his head. “Not for right now.” At the look on Cori’s face, Trey seemed to summon patience as he sighed. “The President is taking your worries seriously. I know what you told Thoren about that lost boy before the Massacre. I hear you… but we can’t be sure. And the others have important things to be doing.”
Sighing, Cori decided to change the subject. “You’re patrolling today, aren’t you?”
He nodded. “In the West Markets.”
“Great, can I join you? I have a free day from the Palace and want to keep busy.”
Trey just shrugged, which she took as an agreement. Baby steps.
“I’ll gear up,” Cori said and stood from the table. Thoren didn’t even look up at her, so she addressed Trey again. “See you in a minute.”
Cori strode out of the dining hall for her room, resisting the urge to look behind her at Thoren, not willing to see if he was ignoring her, or worse, still looking at her like she kicked puppies for fun.
***
Nearly two hours later, Cori patrolled the West Markets with Trey. It seemed even so far from the Royal Quarter, the presence of the Legion was increasing, the hunt for the Assassin becoming the highest priority after Thoren had taken chase through the streets the night before. That and the building tension about a possible attack from the Shadow Legion had the Legionnaires on full alert, patrolling the streets heavily for any sign of them, or the Assassin. It seemed like you couldn’t turn a corner without seeing someone dressed in grey.
True to his word, Maveron had increased security around the Compound, pulling Legionnaires from the other areas to bring them all closer to Everton after Thoren’s warning the evening before. There had been no whisper or sighting of the Shadow Legion yet.
Cori walked next to Trey silently, trying to get into Legionnaire mode, though her nerves still felt strained tight.
The night before she had felt more relaxed while with Millisa. Cori and the Princess had simply taken a walk around the Palace gardens, before retiring to her rooms to talk, laugh, and eat far too many sweet pastries until Millisa had fallen asleep. It was always so simple being with the Princess in the Palace.
Today, her nerves had returned in full force. After breakfast, she kept replaying the way Thoren was looking at her. Like he wanted to ask her something. Or accuse her of something. Shaking off the feeling, she tried to focus on her patrol with Trey, and keeping her eyes on alert.
Cori looked over to him, who was being noticeably quiet. She always remembered him being so chatty, quick to tease and laugh, and used to always call her kiddo affectionately. Cori had hated being called that and had scolded him, but in a big brotherly, nudge-in-the-ribs kind of way while trying to scowl and hide her smile.
Now, Trey was stony-faced, and it seemed as though he were incapable of making jokes anymore.
Cori tried to lighten the mood as they each searched the area with their eyes, their ears. “So, how are things going with Romy?”
Trey seemed to stiffen at the question. “That’s not your business.”
Cori should not have been taken aback by the hostility in his words, but she was. “Alrighty then,” Cori said slowly.
She heard him sigh through his nose, and then say in a flat tone, “I didn’t mean that. It’s just… things with Romy are very new, and I suppose I’m not sure I understand it myself.”
Cori frowned. It was an apology, but his explanation had no sincerity behind it.
“Are you okay?” Cori asked, prying further despite their tenuous at best relationship, “is… something else going on for you that’s causing stress?”
He cut her a glance, before refocusing on the streets, on the rooftops. “No. I’m doing fine. It’s everyone else's stress that I’m concerning myself with.”
Trey then walked with quicker steps, disengaging himself from the conversation. Cori grasped that he wasn’t in the mood for chatting.
Trey was far ahead of her by the time she crossed the stone bridge that ran over the Ozrin river. She stepped onto the cobbled road that made up the West Markets. This was the furthest Cori had ever gone on patrol before, and she hadn’t spent much time in this part of Everton when she was younger. It was nicer than the East Markets from what she could see, the stores and stalls were neatly painted with pretty signs. The people meandered about in groups, chatting merrily and dressed in their fineries.
There was a scuffle of sound that caught her attention and Cori turned her head to see a small group of people huddled near the wooden wall that fenced off the Ozrin river. Cori saw a man get shoved to the ground, dust pluming as he sprawled into the dirt.
She jogged over to the scene in time to see someone emerge from the small crowd, a woman with a pinched face and narrowed eyes who looked down at the man in anger. She bent over him and ripped something out of his hand before straightening.
“Don’t touch what isn’t yours!” the woman said crossly just as Cori arrived and she looked over to her.
“What’s going on here?” Cori asked sternly.
The woman huffed at her. “He tried to take my poster down.”
Cori’s eyes tracked down to the sheet of paper she held tightly in her hand and was surprised to see that it was one of the propaganda posters from the Faction. She could see the words “MAGIC IS NOT LOST…” stamped along the top. She frowned before she held out a hand for the man on the ground and helped him back to his feet. He stood, brushing at his pants, red in the face.
“Those posters are ridiculous…” he grumbled to Cori, his eyes flicking to the woman who had pushed him over, “I used to be a Diviner, so I can’t stand to look at them.”
Cori sighed through her nose, turning her gaze to the woman who seemed to be losing interest in the Legionnaire standing in front of her. She raised her brows in surprise as the woman simply turned away from them and pushed through the few people still standing there and started to tack the poster back onto the wall.
Cori gave the man a small nod of her understanding before she moved towards the woman.
“Excuse me,” Cori said, forcing patience.
The woman finished fastening the poster and finally turned to face her. “What?”
“Why are you putting these posters up?” she asked, “what is your group after?”
“My group?” The woman said, confusion crossing over her face, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Cori looked at her with bewilderment. She pointed to the words on the poster. “Your poster says to report Diviners. Report to who, exactly?”
Again, the woman seemed to look at Cori as though she were speaking in riddles. “All I’m doing is putting up posters. Is that not allowed?”
“Well… it is, but—” Cori started but was stunned into silence when the woman shrugged at her and turned to move away. Indignant, Cori reached out to take her arm to stop her and demand answers, when suddenly Trey was right next to her, turning her away from the woman.
“Don’t,” Trey said, his eyes fixed on the woman now strolling away from them. Cori looked up at him, mystified. “I questioned a man putting up posters yesterday. He acted as though he had no idea what the poster even said, let alone anything useful about the Faction. It wasn’t the first time.”
Cori frowned, eyes fixed on the retreating woman. “So, they’ve all been told to lie – should we not be bringing them in?”
“Lie… or influenced somehow,” Trey said ominously. He seemed to have waited until the woman was out of sight before he pulled the poster from the wall and screwed it up in his hands. Then he walked away.
“Wait,” Cori said, falling into step with him and watching his face for a reaction, “influenced? Like Shereen’s magic?”
Trey just shrugged.
Disbelieving, Cori shook her head. Shereen, the Goddess of Spirit, had wielded an ability to influence others to her will. From reading about it, Cori understood that the children she bore and anyone with her bloodline had not developed the same gifts, which had been a blessing. It sounded dangerous and… wrong.
“You can’t be seriously thinking those posters are right?” Cori asked.
“Of course not,” Trey said, his voice laced with irritation, “but the mind is something we still have so much to learn about. We don’t know if there are other ways to influence people, brainwash them. Even without magic.”
Cori remained silent, pondering his words as they walked.
“I believe there’s more we need to know about the Faction, and I think they become dangerous when approached, but are fine when left alone,” Trey finally said after a while, “I am setting up a meeting with the Five and the President to discuss how we handle it.”
While Cori’s eyes looked around them as they walked, her mind was churning with what Trey had said. How could you control someone without magic? Or without them knowing about it? It didn’t make a lot of sense.
They walked by a young girl, whose dirty hair was matted and sticking in all directions, and in h
er grubby hands she held some flowers.
“A flower, miss?” the girl asked in a small voice and held out a pink flower to Cori.
Cori looked to Trey, who didn’t even slow or acknowledge the voice, so she let him continue walking as she knelt to the ground in front of the girl.
She reached out and took the flower with a smile. “Thank you, it’s so beautiful.”
The girl gave her a wide grin. “Just like you.”
Cori leaned her nose into the flower and took a deep breath. “What a lovely smell, how can I repay you?”
The girl’s smile faded, before she asked in a timid voice, “would you have anything to eat?”
Cori’s heart sank at the question, in the desperation that was in her eyes. “I’m sorry that I have nothing on me but—” She reached into a pocket of her tunic and pulled out a silver coin. It wasn’t enough, but it would buy the girl a few meals. “I do have this, and it’s for you.”
She let Cori drop the coin in her hand, and she held to her chest reverently, and then looked to her again, eyes sparkling with tears. “Thank you,” the girl breathed.
“Eva,” said a male voice behind Cori, and she turned her head to see an older boy hurrying across the cobbles towards them. When he reached them, he took the girl’s hand and pulled her into his side.
Cori paled at the sight of the boy, her stomach dropping as she took in the hair, the eyes, his features that she knew with a blazing recognition.
“This is my big brother,” Eva said quietly, and Cori tore her eyes away from the boy, and met her gaze again, though this time Cori barely saw her. Her vision had gone a little blurry, and she felt as though she might be sick.
“What did you hand her?” Eva’s brother said, his tone accusing, his arm across her chest, holding her to him protectively.
Cori stood from her kneeling position and opened her mouth, yet no sound came out. She couldn’t form words.
