Once

by Alyson Serena Stone

  He grabbed her foot and with one powerful jerk she found herself falling hard onto the filthy street.

  Dak climbed on top of her before she could push herself upright. "You don't know anything about murder."

  "I have killed, just like you and I must say that you are sloppy. It has all gotten to your head and made your careless," Ryanon taunted. "You need to go back to school and get an education."

  He slapped her hard across the face. "You really do want me to kill you."

  She yawned. "Do it, but I know you won't. You have had plenty of chances to do so, but you haven't. Tell me, Dak, have you gone soft?"

  He answered the question, by bringing his knife down onto her throat and applied just enough pressure to draw the tiniest bit of blood. "I am not soft. I just wanted to see if you changed your feeling about death once you were face to face with it," he snarled. "You're attitude hasn't seemed to change."

  "Are you going to kill me or just talk me to death?" she snarled back at him. "Your master must have some pretty bad assassins in his ranks if you are his best."

  He applied more pressure, drawing more blood. "One slip of my hand and you will be gone."

  Ryanon smiled. "Good, because I already let my hand slip."

  Dak blinked. "Huh?"

  "Right over you ale."

  Dak's face paled. "You're lying."

  Ryanon's smile widened. "We'll see about that. I reckon you have about thirty seconds before it kicks in, so you had better kill me know. Make that twenty seconds and counting."

  Dak's face grew paler and his breaths shorter. He dropped his knife, putting his hands to his throat, gagging. He was slowly turning a blue colour. Ryanon got to her feet and crossed her arms over her chest in annoyance. This was why she hated poisoning people. Even the most beautiful of people, got all ugly looking and it took forever for the person to fall over dead.

  Dak fell onto his side, his blue eyes starting up at her, as if he was begging her to end his suffering.

  She knelt down next to him, smiling. "Now, I know that this is a very clichéd death, but it is the easiest way to get away with murder. Plus, it is very fitting that we are outside of a tavern and everyone saw you drinking. Alcohol poisoning is a pretty believable story."

  The gagging grew louder, the life was leaving his eyes.

  Ryanon reached out and gently patted his arm. "I didn't want to kill you, but you asked too many questions and I just had too."

  He let out a thick gasp, his breath rattling in his chest.

  "It will be all over soon and everything will be okay. You will be able to see what life is after death." She picked up his knife. "This really is a nice knife. I will put it too good use." She slide it and her own knife into her cloak.

  A final gasp and rattle escaped from Dak as the life let him, his blue eyes stared blankly up at Ryanon.

  Ryanon looked up and down the street as she got to her feet. No one had seen their little fight. She reached up and touched her bruised and bloody face, sighing. She was going to have to use a lot of herbs and makeup to fix this mess, but it did fit the act.

  She opened her mouth and screamed laugh enough to wake the dead. "HE'S DEAD!"

  The doors to the taverns opened up as humans and nonhumans rushed out of the bars.

  She pointed at Dak's body. "I was just letting the cat out and these men came out of nowhere and jumped me. He...He...He...saved...me. He yelled at them and they left." Her voice started to shake as tears filled her eyes. Ah, she loved being dramatic. "I...I...I..."

  A fairy rushed out of the crowd, putting her arms around the shaking Ryanon. "There, there, dear, there was nothing that you could have done for the poor lad's soul. He probably just had too much to drink and all that excitement just added to it. Come on, let's go get you something to help calm you down."

  Ryanon allowed herself to be lead away. She kept peering at Dak's body out of the corner. She could see some of the werewolves and vampires sniffing him. She smiled briefly to herself. The poison that she had used was undetectable any living being.

  Poison was supposed to be a woman's murder weapon. It was far better than using weapons or force, because poison just made like look the person had died. There was no marks or no pointing fingers.

  It just simply was the best way to get away with murder.

  She woke up gasping, covered in sweat. She ran her hand through her hair. It was only a dream…It was only a dream….

  Ryanon froze as she felt something cool and sticky on her hand. She slowly removed her hand, staring at it in the early afternoon light, fighting down the vile that had formed in her throat.

  A milky blue substance covered her hand.

  Chapter Twenty-One: The Twelfth Hour

  Ryanon pushed her way through the thick streets of Skalavik. Though the moon was full in the sky, the streets remained crowded. Every once in awhile, she could hear the faint roar of a wolf and thought she could see the faint outline of a vampire in the shadows. She really couldn't blame the people for wanting to celebrate. Sure, Queen Amberfall was here and they had the Yule Ball, but there had been an increasing darkness of Xandria.

  Her eyes narrowed as she reached the end of an alley. Ahead of her, a few of the palace guards had managed to find company with a few of Katrina's courtesans. She thought she could hear Aliss's laughter ringing above all of the noise, but she couldn't be sure.

  She made her way down another dark street, allowing herself to blend completely in with the shadows. Darkness was just where a killer like herself belonged.

  Dak slowly appeared out of the shadows as she paused in front of an empty looking building. "I was beginning to wonder if you were going to show." His dark clothes not only hid him from the crowds, but also made him look more like a peasant than royalty.

  Ryanon just snorted. "Why would I let you have all the fun?"

  The courtesans' laughter seemed to come closer, causing them both to jump back into the shadows. They were so close now that Ryanon could make out every sharp edge of Dak's face. After a few seconds of suffering, the laughter passed.

  Dak stepped out of the shadows, staring back down at the street. "They are just completely mental for being out on a night like this."

  Ryanon just shrugged. "Well, it is Winter Solstice season and people have to get their drink on."

  Dak gave her a blank look. "Yule was weeks ago."

  "And it still is the season."

  "It's a full moon," Dak muttered. His frown deepened as he caught sight of Ryanon's arm. "What's that?"

  Even though, Ryanon had scrubbed her arm, she hadn't been able to get completely rid of the milky substance. She quickly tucked it behind her back. "It's nothing."

  Dak grabbed her arm and pulled it out before she even had time to reach. He studied it for several seconds without saying a word. No matter how hard Ryanon tugged, his icy grip didn't give. "I feel like I've seen this before."

  "Well, that's nice. Now, give me back my arm!" She kicked at him and actually managed to hit his right shin, but it wasn't enough force to cause him to give. She was clearly going to start to have to aim a little bit higher.

  Dak ran a finger along the length of her arm. "How long has this been on here?"

  "I don't know," she snarled. "Now, let go."

  He carefully dropped her arm, staring up at her. "What did you dream about last night?" His voice sounded like velvet, something that she hadn't heard before.

  "I'm not going to tell you." There really was no way that she could tell him. After all, she had killed him in her dream-with poison of all things. Now, what a cheap and low way to go about killing someone like him. He deserved to have a much more painful death.

  Dak looked at her. "Is this about the mission?" He moved away from her, his eyes shifting up and down the street. "Someone knows."

  Ryanon watched his catlike movements. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean someone outside of our group knows about Trelia."

  "And this gives you th
at idea?" Ryanon nodded to her arm. "I know you are captain of the guard and all, but even this is a little farfetched for you."

  "What about you believing that the king is spreading Exhausting Plague through the slums?"

  "I thought we proved that theory to be one hundred percent true. Craskbrand did have the illness in bottles and your father's name on his ledger. Plus, you said you found something in your father's safe," Ryanon smirked. "So take that."

  "And how is this any different?" As he spoke the words, Ryanon could see his mind was racing through the names of people who knew about the plot. There were very few people who knew about the mission and she really could not see any of their fellow assassins selling them out. That meant that it probably had to come from somewhere within the castle.

  And was if Ryanon even believed his completely mental theory.

  Dak moved back into the shadows. Ahead of them, water from the aqueducts splashed onto a group of people, causing their laughter to turn into screams. Ryanon really did not blame them. It was rather cold out.

  "Come on," Dak muttered as he started down the streets.

  Ryanon rolled her eyes. She really did hate it whenever the male thought he was in complete control. She had killed so many men with that belief. However, she did follow him. She was not about to miss the chance to see him make a complete fool of himself.

  They were now out in an open market. Vendors called out while crowds of people gathered around the street performers. More often than not, they would pass a haunted looking person, begging for a few table scraps. Dak paid no mind to any of them and just kept on pushing forward.

  Ryanon kept holding her breath. It would only be a matter of time before someone recognized Dak.

  On top of the city's walls, wolves ran. People stayed as far away from them as possible, but the wolves didn't pay the people any mind. Ryanon shook her head. It would be easy picking and, yet, they were just carrying on like the streets were empty. The moon must not have been so strong tonight.

  Dak paused under one of the aqueducts. Ryanon winced as a little bit of water landed on her shoulder. They were nearing one of the more wealthier parts of Skalavik.

  She scanned her surroundings. They were almost back to Craskbrand's house. Why would Dak lead them back here?

  He turned, walking carefully underneath the aqueduct, staying clear of the busy road. Ryanon followed his quick footing, matching it with her own nimble steps. Slush wetted her feet and she found herself once again thankful for her heavy boots.

  "Why are we going back there?" Ryanon whispered as they paused in the mess at the edge of the overflowing aqueduct. "And while we are at it, your father really needs to put some money into fixing these things."

  Dak lifted his face toward the street. It seemed quiet. "I had to station some of my men here."

  "Why? I thought your father would be happy about Craskbrand's death. Didn't you give him what he wanted, a person for Lord Goldspire's murder?"

  "And also managed to kill his business partner in the process."

  Ryanon's eyes shifted toward Craskbrand's dark house. Even from this from this distance, it managed to stand out from all the other similar looking houses. "Where are your men?"

  "They are on all the roofs and hidden in most of the alleys. A few are standing in plain sight around the house." Dak ran a hand over his face. "The only thing we have going for us is they have been on duty for twelve hours and have probably let their guard down a little."

  "And they've been trained by you. I'd say that the odds are in our favour." Even as the words left her mouth, she could feel his dark gaze on her. "Why are we going back here? I thought you said we were looking for someone from the castle."

  "We are, but there has to be some kind of common ground. We already know that Craskbrand was careless and there has to be someone else involved, someone close to the king. That thing on your arm is Ioslullumary."

  Ryanon paused, mentally kicking herself for not even realizing what it was. Ioslullumary was actually a very dangerous plant. It was a milky plant whose remains allowed a dreamer to dream nightmares that seemed very real; often times, the dreamer will carry out what they see in the dream without even realizing that it is real. Dak was just lucky that she had been smart enough to realize that it had all been in her head. "And that stuff is expensive."

  "And we all know how crooked nobles are." Dak carefully edged himself out of the shadows. "If anyone crossed Craskbrand, I just know for sure that he would have some kind of a record on file, as blackmail."

  Ryanon followed Dak out of the shadows and across the street. There was a lot of less people out in this part of town. Probably the wealthy were all seeking out their thrills in the slums or Srilurk Landing.

  The cool air almost took Ryanon's breath away. Ahead of her, she could make out Dak's catlike figure as he climbed up the side of a darkened building. Grabbing a hold of the bottom bricks, she mirrored his movements, using the smallest of spaces as hand and foot holes.

  She dangled from the side of the building, digging her hands and feet into the side of the building as her entire body seemed to tremble. She stared up at Dak, who wasn't slowing down or showing any signs of weakness. Knowing him, he probably had all of this in his basic training for the castle's guards.

  Up and up they went. From the bottom, the building hadn't looked this high, but now it seemed like it was never going to end. They had to be at least fifteen or so metres up now. Ryanon looked down over her shoulder. The city seemed to be on fire from all of the light and partying. She stared back up at the tall building, which seemed to disappear into the dark night. Dak was nothing more than a shadow. She knew that it would only be a matter of time before someone looked up and saw them.

  She kept going. Some parts of the building were easier than other; balconies and windowsills just allowed her to race right up-to the point where she could make out the outline of Dak's boot. She looked back down. Even though heights really didn't bother her, it was just the thought that one mistake could be the end of her.

  Panting, she climbed onto to a window ledge, which was actually large enough for her to pause and catch her breath. Ahead of her, Dak was still going. Let him...Let him not be able to move the moment they reached the roof.

  After it felt like she was going to be able to move again, Ryanon swung herself back out onto the building's side. Her hands suctioned against the stone and she started to heave herself uprights. No sooner than she started, she heard something that made her hair stand on edge.

  Dak shrieked, something that she had never heard come from him before. The thudding noise of someone sliding down the building, in a very uncontrolled manner, toward her was all she could hear. She didn't even have to time to reach out and grab him as he slid down pass her.

  She grabbed onto the drainpipe, using every bit of strength her had to cling to it. Dak's cries of fear filled her ears. She had to get to him. Not only would be fall to his death, but his constant noise was bound to draw some very much unwanted attention.

  A rope came flying out to her left, just out of reach. It almost looked as if he was attempting to toss his rope around a gargoyle's neck. Below, she heard him cursing, but it sounded like he had at least managed to somewhat slow his downward descent.

  Ryanon eased herself up the pipe. If she could just find a way to creep over to the gargoyle, she probably could lope it around and manage to get Dak to safety. As she slowly crawled over, every once and awhile, she would chance a look down at Dak. He was trying to regain control.

  "Hang on," she muttered as she slowly kept making her way over to the rope. "You really do have horrible aim."

  Her heart froze as she got closer to the window. A pair of hands was sticking out and in the moonlight, she caught the glimpse of a knife, slowly slicing through it. If she didn't do something, the rope would snap and Dak would most likely be killed.

  Dak couldn't find any kind of hold on the building's side and there was no place for him to grab
onto. He was going down.

  One by one, in a agonizing slowness, the threads snapped underneath the dagger. She could see Dak looked up at her, his eyes wide with terror, but there was something else; it was almost like he was begging her not to interfere.

  She was not about to let some unknown killer end him; if anyone was going to kill Dak, it was going to be her.

  She looked back at the rope. A few more slices and the knife would be clear through.

  The rope groaned. Sucking in a big breath of air, Ryanon moved.

  She slid back down the pipe, letting the metal tear open the tender flesh of her hands. Wincing, she didn't stop; she was not about to let a little bit of pain get in her way.

  The hands barely had time to react before she slammed into the window, gripping the ledge to steady herself. Now, she could see that the hands were actually attached to a frightened looking young man. "Move and I'll kill you," she hissed.

  The young man took a small step backwards, tripping over another rope, and dropping his knife.

  Ryanon swung herself catlike into the room. "I warned you what was going to happen." She picked up his knife. Not her choice weapon, but it would have to do.

  She swung the knife down hard on the young man's neck. Turning, she grabbed his other rope, leaving him there drowning in his own blood. "I told you what you would happen." She readied herself against the window.

  She could hear Dak yelling. If he kept this up, he was going to draw a crowd, leaving him with a lot of explaining to do.

  There was the death snap of the rope. Dak let out another cry what appeared to be a mixture of both rage and possibly fear.

  Using the window, she kicked off, launching herself into the darkness.

  The night wind tore at her; it's coldness threatened to take the very air out of her chest. Dak was falling fast-faster than she would have thought he could. She stretched her hands, praying to whatever gods were listening that her rope would be long enough.

  Below her, she could hear people shouting. Great, just great. This night just kept getting better and better. The lights from their torches blinded her; she could only hope that they were too drunk to remember anything from this night.