by Arthur Slade
For me and my fellow students, it was our last night to show our faces to each other. Once we had finished the graduation ceremony, we would receive our red sashes, lift our hoods, and would disappear through one of the three hundred eight gates. Only to return, if we wished, for future graduation ceremonies or to consult the archives or the maestrus.
Soon the meal was done, and we were allowed five minutes to eat in the servants’ room, gulping down our mutton and soup and the roasted turnips. I ate alone, though a few of the others were talking to each other. Megan laughed at something, then covered her mouth because her outburst was so loud. Even Corwin was subdued. He whispered to Gregum and Scyllia. It wouldn’t surprise me if the three of them opened up a shop of their own. It would likely not be in the Akkad Empire, due to the current conflicts, but in one of the Five Realms. I made a note to avoid wherever they ended up. I could handle my brother. His two friends were venomous snakes.
Thord caught my eye and gave me a small wave from across the kitchen. I immediately looked down at my plate, suddenly amazed by the greenness of the peas.
Tonight would be one of the last times I saw him regularly. And I did feel a bit of sadness about that.
Don’t be silly! It’ll be great once I see the last of them all.
Well, except Megan, I remembered. I’d be seeing a lot of her. But that was something I didn’t want to think about right now.
As I gulped down the last of my turnips, I couldn’t help but think of Brax alone in the cave. He would still be starving. There was time before the ceremony to hunt through the spell books. Perhaps there was an enchantment that would solve the problem of his manacle.
I washed my plate and rushed to the library. Within a few minutes, I was running my hands along the books in the enchantment section. I set a book on the table and it opened to a fertility spell—they all had fertility spells! I wondered if my parents had used one to get me and Corwin. Those types of spells were said to cause twins to be born.
I wasn’t here to learn about magic and babies. I flipped through the book and found nothing about locks. I picked up another spell book and another, but only found curses, more fertility spells, and sleep potions. I could search fruitlessly for weeks!
I did discover a spell about regeneration. Maybe if I could somehow use that on Brax, it would cancel out the spell that affected his leg. Then we could cut it off, and he would be free.
I was pretty certain he wouldn’t agree to that.
“Are you studying on the night of graduation?” Maestru Beatrix asked. It took all my will not to shudder. The librarian was the quietest of all the maestrus. “Have they added a new qualification that I’m not aware of?”
“No. I was just curious about spells. And I won’t get to visit this library for some time after today.”
“The door is always open. All students are welcome.” I knew that was true. I had occasionally seen a cloaked assassin reading a book. “Is there anything in particular I can help you with?”
“Is it true Scythian dragons can be bound by oaths?” The curious look Maestru Beatrix gave me made me wonder if I’d let her know too much. “I’m just wondering, that’s all. Or any dragon. I really do like dragons.”
“Ah, you’re not alone in finding dragons endlessly interesting. I went through that phase. I have read about arrangements with Scythian dragons.”
“Arrangements?”
“Yes. There was a mayor in a Kellian village who arranged with a Scythian dragon to burn down a neighboring village in exchange for ten sheep. The dragon did exactly that. Alas, he came back and burned down the mayor’s village the next day and ate all the sheep. You do have to be specific about any agreements. The Scythian dragons are said to be as clever as solicitors. Very, very intelligent, those ones.”
I knew that firsthand. Brax would outwit me easily if I wasn’t careful. “I have a different question. Has anyone ever made a magical eye that works?” The question surprised me. I hadn’t been thinking about my eye.
“I’m not aware of such a creation. It doesn’t mean it’s not possible, but you won’t discover that tonight. Especially in our meager spell section. Perhaps make that a long-term goal. You’re formidable enough with one eye.”
I blushed. “That is a kind thing to say.”
“It was only an observation. Good luck with graduation tonight, Carmen. And beyond.”
“Thank you.”
I put away the books on the table and then went up the stairs and down the hallways to the dorm rooms, passing a few of my fellow students who were rushing to get ready for graduation. I went to my own room.
Through the slit window, I could see that the sky was growing dark. And I knew—because the knowledge of the heavens had been drilled into me—it was a night of no moon. Not the hunter’s moon that soldiers would talk about. This was an assassin’s moon, the reason assassins trained to have such effective night vision. For the last two thousand years, assassins had graduated on a night of no moon.
I removed my graduation cloak from the closet. They had been given to us three weeks earlier in preparation for this night. I placed it over my shoulders, surprised at how silken it was. The inside of the robe was black, because it could be folded inside out to become a travel cloak. I turned to look at myself in the mirror.
I did make a striking figure, I decided, with the missing eye and all. Maybe I would be intimidating.
Of course, I’d pay anything to actually see through both eyes again.
When I turned the third time, I realized I was being watched.
19
Advice and a Gift
I spun, instinctively reaching for my dagger, but the intruder caught my hand, squeezed a pressure point, and the blade dropped to the floor. My assailant laughed.
A far too familiar laugh.
It was Corwin. In black robes. He flipped back his hood.
“How did you get in here without me noticing?”
He wasn’t yet dressed for graduation. And he had managed to blend in with the shadows in my room. His hair was slicked back. I wasn’t certain whether he’d been standing there all along.
“Perhaps it’s not just your vision you have difficulties with, but also your hearing. I picked the lock and strolled right in.”
“Let me go then.”
He did so. “You are fast, sister. I’m just a little faster and quieter and smarter, that’s all.”
“Did you come to taunt me?” I asked.
“No. Only to give you advice and a gift. Just like I promised. I am proud …” He cleared his throat. Was he actually getting emotional? “I am proud of you. In some ways, I made you.”
“What? I made me. The maestrus made me. Our parents made me.”
He shook his head. “You are such an odd duck. You still feel loyalty to them even though they abandoned us here.”
“Maybe they had no choice.”
“They had a choice, Carmen. They abandoned us because our twin mouths were too much to feed. There is a lesson in that.”
“How did you see the papers?”
“I am not as much a stickler for rules as you. So, I snuck into the archives and looked. Our parents were pig farmers. Imagine that! People as amazing as you and I sprang from pig farmers.”
“What? You know who they are? Where are they now?”
“Dead, sadly. They died a few years ago. A porcine plague of some sort. Took our brothers and sisters too. It is only you and I left of our family. So that is why I’m proud of you tonight. And for all you’ve done. And I can guarantee you won’t have to work for Megan.”
“I don’t want her killed.”
He rolled his eyes. “Sister! As much as I joke about that, trust me, I won’t kill her. But there are ways to be free of such deals.”
“Let me handle that on my own.”
He huffed out air in such a way that it made his dark locks move. “Ever the obstinate one. You don’t have to stand alone all the time, sis.” He waited for a heartbeat or two, but
I had nothing to say in reply. “Well, as I promised, I brought you a gift. Two gifts, in fact.” He presented, out of nowhere, a flag.
I took it, and the flag unfurled, showing the golden face of a roaring bear. “A bear flag?” I said. It was so silky and beautiful.
“It’s a lucky flag that I bought at the market,” he said. “It will keep you safe. Tonight. Tomorrow night. For all the dark nights to come.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m just being superstitious, sis.” He took the flag from me and walked toward the window. “But let’s hang it now in your window and see it unfurled. Maybe it’ll bring you good luck so you won’t trip during the ceremony.”
“I won’t trip,” I said.
He had already attached the flag to the curtain rod using a thin white rope and hung it out the window. The wind began to flip it back and forth, bringing it to life. “There,” he said. “A fine gift, I must say. And yes, I am being emotional … well, as emotional as I get. It’s just that tonight is a night of endings. So many rituals, practices we’ve been doing for the last eight years, will be irrevocably changed. We will start our new lives in just a few hours.”
“You are sounding like an old man, Corwin. I don’t think I’ve seen this side of you before.”
“It’s important to remember that we are at the brink of greatness.”
“Greatness?” I asked.
“Well, you know what I mean, sis. We will become something great. And we don’t need a red cloak and a graduation scroll to prove that. I know it inside of me.” He tapped his chest.
I patted my graduation cloak. “I’ll be proud to wear the cloak,” I said.
“It is just cloth,” he said. “A true assassin holds that knowledge in his heart. Anyway, I did bring another gift.” He reached into one of my shelves and brought out a decanter. He must have left it there when he first sneaked into the room. I should have noticed it! I’d been trained to see things that are out of place. He filled two goblets.
“Is this wine?” I asked.
“Oh, you’re too pure for wine, Carmen. It’s cherry cider from the Heartbury Mill in Akkadium.”
“How did you get that? It’s at least twelve denarii per glass.”
“I have contacts in the outside world. I’ve already made many influential and powerful friends.”
“How have you had time to do that?”
“By starting years ago.” He offered me a goblet. “Come, sis, let us drink to our health and to the memories of our pig farming parents. And, more importantly, to the future. A bright and bloody future.”
“I’ll drink to our future and to our parents,” I said. “And our health.” I took the cider. This was one of the sweetest drinks in all the Empire, and he had smuggled it into the fortress and was sharing it with me. Perhaps, at his heart, he was not so terrible. I took a sip.
It was like drinking a draught from heaven. A taste that tingled with life as it went down my throat.
“You know, you’re not so terrible.” I decided to say it out loud.
He grinned. “Oh, you may revise that statement after tonight.”
The sweetness of the drink was swirling in my head, in my bones, in my blood. It took me several moments to clearly understand what he had said. “Why tonight? What do … you … mean?”
The words had slurred slightly. It had been a long day, and I had not slept properly for a very long time. Was I that tired? I still had a whole ceremony to sit through.
“I’m just saying there is a price to pay for having so many influential friends. So many gears are set into motion. But I don’t want you to be harmed.”
“Wh—” I couldn’t finish the word. The drink fell from my hand, and the goblet rolled over to one side, spilling the cider. The waste!
But I cursed myself. I had trained for years to know the taste of every poison. I should have recognized this one right away, but it had been hidden by the sweet cherry sugary smell. He had poisoned me! I tried to move, but my body was locked in position. I attempted to open my mouth and accuse him of treachery, but my lips were frozen shut.
Corwin stepped behind me, pulled me into his arms, and lowered me onto my bed. I couldn’t place the poison. It was freezing me like spider venom. Was it killing my organs one by one?
“I can see by your eye that you are panicking, sister,” he whispered gently. “And I am certain you don’t know the taste. It isn’t poison, though. I wouldn’t do that. It’s just a paralysis tincture. It should last for twelve hours. You will be safe in this room. I will lock the door behind me. And the flag will keep you safe too.”
A sad look briefly came to his face. He patted my cheek.
“I have hurt you enough, even if it was for my own gain. I don’t want you to be hurt again. I don’t need your forgiveness, but I will accept it someday. Now, as I said, my powerful friends are waiting. It’s nearly time for graduation. Sleep well, sister. I love you.”
Then he left me frozen on the bed.
I heard the door lock behind him.
20
Two Warnings
I didn’t sleep.
Nor did I die. My brother hadn’t been lying about whatever he’d used. It was causing paralysis yet allowed me to breathe and my heart to beat. None of my limbs would move, but my eyes blinked. That was an impressive mixture. His skills went far beyond even what he had learned in class.
It was almost as if he’d had another teacher outside the guild.
There was a whistling outside my window—a sound that reminded me of hawks flying by, of wings in the air. Then a male voice spoke from outside my window. My room was hundreds of feet up the fortress and hung over a cliff. Who could possibly be out there?
“Leave this one,” the man said. “It is marked by the bear.”
I heard a soft scraping that slowly grew softer. Had I imagined the voice?
Time passed. Whether it was minutes or hours, I couldn’t be certain. My thoughts kept whirling around and around and around.
A bell rang. Once. From the very top of the fortress. It was the warning bell. We’d had drills many times to it. Each assassin would take their defensive station or disperse through the three hundred eight doors. But the bell only rang once, and it was supposed to ring three times for danger.
Several hundred heartbeats passed.
I next heard the ring of metal on metal outside my door. Something thumped into the wood, and then a cry of pain was cut off.
Despite the tincture in my system, my heart began to beat faster. Violence! Right outside my door! Had the assassins who came to the graduation somehow turned on the other assassins? The graduates? The maestrus? A long silence followed.
Then footsteps came skidding to a halt in front of my door and someone banged on it.
“Carmen!” It was Megan. “Carmen, are you in there?”
I couldn’t move my lips. “Run,” Megan said. “They’re killing everyone.”
Then she was gone too.
The only sound my ears picked up was my heartbeat. It was as loud as thunder. I concentrated on slowing it down and making myself calm.
I heard footsteps again. Heavier, but still quiet. “Carmen?” it was a whisper, but I recognized Thord. He attempted to pick the lock on my door but failed. He let out a groan. Had he been wounded?
“I—I didn’t see you with … with the others. If you’re there, you must hide yourself. Or flee. But don’t take any of the well-known gates. They are watched. I … ugh … I am going to fly.”
If he intended to take a swan he would be killed. I was pretty certain the swannery would be the first place to be guarded by any attackers. I tried to warn him, but my lips were frozen.
“Find me if you live,” he said. “I—I hope you’re already gone.”
Then came the soft sound of his footsteps going away from my door.
I lay there in silence for what felt like a millennium.
Very gradually I became aware that I could move my right
leg. Just a little bit. Soon I was able to wriggle the fingers on my left hand. Perhaps, in all my years of building immunities to poisons and tinctures, I had developed an immunity to this one. Corwin had said it would last for twelve hours. But it had been no longer than an hour or two—that was my best guess. Time was hard to measure when lying so still.
I was able to slide my legs a few inches across the top of the bed. Eventually enough motion came that I could force both legs over the edge of the bed. The floor thumped as my feet hit the floor. There was now a little strength in my arms.
I tried to stand and immediately collapsed to the floor, banging my head into the dresser. I lay there for a few moments, feeling a sharp pain in my face. I’d not been able to put my hands out, but at least I’d managed to miss braining myself. I slowly used the cot to pull myself up to a sitting position, feeling woozy. Then I tried to stand again.
This time I managed a few steps, kicking the goblet on the way. I used the wall for support and limped to the door, only to discover I didn’t have enough dexterity to pick the lock.
“Enderos,” I said. My voice was slurred and ragged. But I repeated it and moved my hand in a circular motion. On my third try, the door unlocked.
I listened but couldn’t hear any sounds from the other side. I ever so slowly opened my door.
A dead assassin lay right outside my door. He had a crossbow bolt in his back. His hood had opened enough that I could see the side of a scarred face. His gray hair clearly meant he was one of the older ones. The bolt had gone perfectly through his heart.
I crept slowly up the hall. Both Megan and Thord had told me to flee, but I chose the opposite way from the stairs that led to the three hundred eight doors. I didn’t want to leave until I knew more about the situation.
But stairwells weren’t safe, and hallways weren’t safe, so where was the best place to walk? I did know whom I had to see. Maestru Alesius would know what to do.
I slipped into the kitchen. There were no servants remaining, but I did find another dead body with a crossbow bolt sticking out of his side. Since there wasn’t a red sash, I was certain it was a student. I didn’t want to turn the body over and see who it was.
