“You don’t know that!”
“Where else will she go? You don’t really think Darius will take her in, do you?” he scoffed. “She will be back.”
Ashlan smashed his fist on the desk. “And if she doesn’t come back?”
“Then we will hunt her down. I have spent too much money on her to just let her evaporate into the night.” Mavrin left the room, thoroughly tired of his son’s accusations. Ashlan had given her too much freedom, but she would return. And when she did, he would be sure to show her why she should never run again.
* * *
Trey smiled as he stirred the draught before him. “Good to see you moving around. Hungry?”
Eylsa winced as she settled into a chair at the table. “You here by yourself?”
“Just me.” He turned from the stove to glance back at her. “Nervous?” His mischievous grin failed to draw hers out. “I’m working on another palatable drink for you. Care to help?”
She glanced around the room as he crooked his head at her. He positioned a tall stool before the stove and guided her toward it. “Think you can stay vertical long enough to stir this while I get some more ingredients?”
He patted her shoulder after she nodded, then turned and dug into the cabinets around him. “How are you feeling?”
She pulled back from the pot she stirred and wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Sore, but I’m getting better.”
He sprinkled some powdered gypsum into the bubbling liquid. “Well, you are in luck. This is my special, super-secret, overly potent bonding draught. And trust me, it tastes better than it smells.”
“I’d hope so.”
“Maybe, when you aren’t quite so pitiful, I’ll teach you how to make it.”
She glared up at him through her eyelashes. “I’m not pitiful.”
“Look pretty pitiful to me.”
Her lips twitched.
“So, what do you want to eat?” he asked. “I’d appreciate you keeping it simple unless you’re going to help me fight the fire.”
“Is there any of that soup left?”
He flashed a brilliant smile and tapped her nose with a finger, prompting an irritated glare across her face. “Now that is something I can cook. Reheated soup coming up!”
“Are you not going to ask me about the knife as well?”
Trey palmed a glass bowl from the fridge. “Would you tell me if I did?”
“No.”
“Then why would I bother to ask? Seems like a waste of energy.” The soup began to steam. “How’s that stirring coming?”
“How can stirring progress?” She snapped, obviously irritated.
He glanced over her shoulder and turned the burner off. “Perfect. Time to eat. Can you make it to the table?”
She slid from the stool and picked her way toward the table. She roughly dropped into the chair, closing her eyes. Trey set a bowl of soup in front of her as well as a glass of the liquid from the stove. It still looked horrible. He took a chair next to her and kept his eyes on his own soup as he stirred it.
“So I take it our hospitality over these past weeks has been to your liking?”
She spooned soup into her mouth and let it linger on her tongue. “What do you mean?”
He tapped her glass and waited for her to take a drink before continuing. “Well, you obviously trusted us enough to come here despite your weakened state. Surely there must be something about us you like.”
She laid her hands in her lap, saying nothing.
“Is that subject off limits as well?” When she didn’t respond, he said, “Okay, what can we talk about?”
“What is your prison like?”
He blinked. “Prison? Well, you get a small cell with bars and you are locked in most of the day. When you are let out, you are fenced in and guarded at all times.” He looked at her. “Why do you want to know about prisons?”
Her eyes met his with a grip as tight as iron. “This is a punishment? Something you do to people who displease you?”
He couldn’t break her gaze. Her large eyes pulled him into their depths and he couldn’t stop the words as they fell from his mouth. “It’s not like that. Prison is for people who have broken laws. They are convicted during a trial and sentenced to prison as punishment.”
“And they beat you.” Her soft voice tingled along his mind, pricking compassion.
“No. No one beats you in prison.”
“What laws could one break to be sent there?”
He considered her as she picked at her soup, not really seeing it at all. “We send people to prison for lots of reasons. Murderers, thieves, rapists.”
“And you don’t let them out of these places? These prisons? People stay in them forever.”
He considered this. “No, it depends on what you did to get sent there. After you serve your time you are released.”
“Released.” It was still and stiff, devoid of emotion.
He opened his mouth to speak but she grabbed the glass and downed the rest of its contents before slamming it back to the table. “You are right, it tastes much better than it smells.”
He cleared his throat and trailed his spoon through his soup. “You know, if you’d like, you could always stay with us. There’s no reason you ever have to go back.”
He stared after her as she stood and ghosted out of the room. He sighed and stared down into his bowl. If Darius was right, they had a long way to go.
He stood and moved into the living room as he heard the door open. Brendan shook rain from his trench coat as he kicked the door shut.
“Well, the Tribunal might as well just shove their heads in the sand! Do they really think that if they deny something enough, it won’t happen?” Brendan was in his characteristic huff as he stormed across the room.
“Hello to you too.”
Brendan visibly pulled himself back and forced a smile to his face. “How is our guest this morning?”
Trey glanced at the ceiling. “I don’t think she knows what to do yet, but she’s looking better.”
Brendan tossed his trench coat onto a nearby rack, collapsed into a chair, and stretched out his legs. “What do you think about her?”
“She’s intriguing. It’s a challenge trying to decipher her reactions.”
“More like impossible.”
Trey shook his head at Brendan’s sharp tone. “Not impossible. You have to remember what she’s been through. So many things are not normal to her that we don’t even have to think about.”
“Like not killing people.”
Trey rolled his eyes. “You’re impossible.”
Brendan glared up at the ceiling and rested his hands on his thighs. “You all act like she’ll turn into some perfect angel if we just show her a little freedom.”
“I never said she’ll come to our side, but how can we not try? More to the point, how can we let her go back to the Trinity? Forget the fact that she’s practically property, forget that she’s young and misled; can we conscionably let a trained assassin return to her post if we can stop her? Darius is right. People need to be given a chance. Why are you so sure she’s pure evil? Why are you fighting so hard?”
Brendan’s eyebrows drew together. “I’m not fighting, I’m just trying to interject some sense into all of you!”
Trey rolled his eyes as he returned to the kitchen. “You done lying to me? You were never very good at it.”
Brendan paced the living room behind him, kicking at the rugs as he went. Trey could see his mind working so he kept silent and waited for him to form his argument. “She…frightens me.”
“She frightens all of us, but we are not snapping like rabid dogs.”
Brendan stared down at his feet and toed the carpet in front of him. “She frightens me because I want to trust her. I want to take care of her. Despite the fact that I know she is going to kill us all, I want to protect her. What if she does decide to kill Darius? What if she decides to kill him and none of us are able to stop her?”
Trey laughed as he shook his head. “You think too much.”
“Do I?”
Trey waved him off as he moved to the fridge. “You always did. I seriously doubt that taking care of her is going to keep you from protecting yourself or others were she to try to kill you.”
Brendan nodded his thanks as he took a glass from Trey. “She just seems so innocent. But she can’t be…can she? I mean, an innocent assassin, that’s just stupid.”
“Don’t confuse innocent with sheltered.” He pointed to a book lying open on the counter. “I’ve been doing some research. Darius is right—slave trade in Yagrecia is nearly an epidemic. Children disappear every day. They are sold for more reasons than I could even contemplate.” He paused. “I also found something in the sealed archives. It was confiscated in an arrest from before we were born.”
Brendan turned the fragile tome in his hands. “The sealed archives? How exactly did you gain access to those?”
Trey lifted his shoulders in a shrug and pointed to the book in Brendan’s hands. “The ends justified the means. This book has a chapter on an ancient text that recorded the practice of training an assassin. It says the first thing to do is insure that they are sequestered from outside influences. That’s why she seems innocent—she hasn’t been exposed to anything but what whoever trained her wanted her exposed to.”
“That’s saying she really was kidnapped and raised to be a killer.”
They froze when a crash sounded upstairs. They rushed up the stairs, expectant. Eylsa glared at them through the open door, one hand pressed to her ribs. “Where is my homing device?”
They stared at her in confusion.
“What homing device?” Trey asked. “And where are you going to go anyway?”
A drop of blood slipped from her lips as she cradled her ribs and coughed. “Where did you hide it?” she pressed.
Brendan caught her as she collapsed to the floor, the room in shambles around them. “We didn’t take anything from you. You must have lost it elsewhere. Now calm down, you’re hurting yourself.”
He held her until her struggles ceased and she crumbled into his arms. “What have I done? Master will be furious!”
Brendan closed his eyes as he cradled her. “You are not wrong here. He hurt you, you should be angry with him.”
“He will send me back! I can’t go back! They will break my mind! They will make me a mindless body good for nothing but amusement!” The words gushed from her mouth, a fearful river of anxiety.
He could feel the tears in his eyes as Trey reappeared with a glass in his hands. He tried to tame her tangled locks as he held the glass to her lips. “It’s all right Eylsa, we won’t let them hurt you.”
Trey moved the glass toward her mouth. Her arm flashed out violently, sending Trey crashing to the floor as she kicked her way free of Brendan’s grasp. She scrambled backward and crouched against the wall, her eyes feral.
Brendan held out his hands in placation as Trey regained his feet. “Calm down. We are only trying to help you. You’re hurting yourself. Just come downstairs and we’ll give you something to make you better.”
“No. I don’t want to get better. Stay away from me!”
Brendan crouched down and held his hand out toward her. “It’s okay, Eylsa. Everything will be okay. Will you let us help you?”
Her breath slowed as she stared at his hand hovering between them. Her fingers crept toward his but snapped back when they touched. He kept still. Her hand snaked out again and brushed his before slipping around his fingers. He cupped his hand around hers and pulled her toward him, nearly collapsing in relief as she molded into his chest. He could hear Trey’s breath pacing his as they panted, too anxious to get up from the floor. Brendan sighed as her body went limp in sleep against him.
Brendan glanced back at Trey who leaned hard against the wall. “We are all crazy.”
Trey laughed as he lifted the sleeping girl from Brendan’s arms, freeing him to stand. “That may be true.” He held his breath as Trey lowered her to the bed, praying she wouldn’t wake. He wasn’t sure he could talk her down again. “We better get something into her to stop that bleeding.”
“Fetch some more of your healing draught.”
Brendan kneeled beside the bed. He ran his hand over her chest and focused his power down into her body. “Yep, you definitely tore your ribs loose again,” he murmured. “Lot of good it does us to heal you if you’re going to undo everything.”
Trey came crashing back in carrying a glass of the thick brown draught. He kneeled on the bed opposite from Brendan.
“I think you better wake her.”
Brendan eyes flashed wide. “Me? Why?”
“Because she responds to you.”
He scoffed, then leaned over and stroked her cheek with his fingertips. “Eylsa? Wake up Eylsa.”
Her eyes flashed wide and darted around the room. Trey clapped a hand to her shoulder but her breath had already slowed. Brendan handed her the glass. “Drink this; it will help the pain.”
She snatched the glass and downed it in large gulps, coughing convulsively. She dropped back to the bed and rolled onto her side, breath coming deep and slow. “I need my homing device.”
Brendan laid a hand on her shoulder. “We don’t have your homing device and I don’t think you should be going anywhere anyway.”
“I have to go back. Master will be so angry with me.” Her voice drifted to him with none of the heat of her words.
“Don’t you worry about him; I want you to focus on getting better.”
Trey met Brendan’s eyes. “You better stay with her. I’ll go and see if I can find Darius.”
Brendan nodded and stretched out beside her on the bed. “We are definitely crazy.” He rolled toward the girl beside him. “Do we seem as crazy to you as we do to me?”
Her eyes tightened. “I haven’t seen you do anything normal since I got here.”
He laughed. “Sadly, that makes me feel a little better.”
Her eyes sparkled with what could have been amusement but he wasn’t sure.
“How old were you, when you went to your master?”
“I was thirteen.”
His mind worked unproductively as he fumbled for words. “How, how…I don’t even know what to ask. Did he…buy you? Are you hired?”
“I was purchased. Some of us were available to be hired, but Master bought me.”
He shook his head. “Some of you? How many were there?”
Her eyes drifted as she thought. “There were twenty of us, all about the same age housed together.”
“Housed? Where?”
She just stared at him.
“What happened to the others with you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you like being an assassin? Do you like your master?”
“What do you mean?”
Again he struggled for words. “Do you enjoy it? Does it bring you pleasure?”
“It is what I do. All I do.”
“That’s…that’s really not an answer.”
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
He rolled onto his back and chewed his lip for a moment. “If you didn’t go back to your master, if you could get away, would you still kill people? Would you go back to being an assassin if no one was telling you to do so?”
A silent minute passed as he stared at the ceiling.
“Where would I go?” Her eyes were wide with worry when he glanced over at her. “I would be alone, I’ve…never been alone.”
“You’re away from your master now, and you are not alone.”
She sat up and stared at him. “You want me to follow your mas…Darius.”
“I want you to not kill people. You don’t need a master.”
He could see her mind racing behind her eyes as he sat up and pulled her into his chest. “You don’t have to be afraid.” He let his fingers tangle in her hair. “No one can hurt you here. Do you understand that?”
He jumped as the door slammed downstairs. “Brendan!”
He stared into her eyes for a moment. “Are you okay?”
“Can I come with you?”
He smiled at the nervous worry in her gaze. “Come on.”
Trey was pacing the kitchen when they reached the bottom of the stairs. Cade watched him worriedly. “What’s going on?”
“The Tribunal picked up a man today, a man carrying this.” Trey tossed a wadded piece of paper to Brendan. “It took ten men to take him down. Ten strong men.”
Brendan gave an encouraging smile as he led Eylsa to a chair before he flattened the paper behind her. He wasn’t surprised to see her face staring back at him. “That might prove to be inconvenient.”
“Inconvenient? Yes, being killed might cause a few problems.”
Brendan scowled him down. “I’m sure it won’t come to that.”
Trey took a deep breath. “We are definitely going to have to take some precautions here. Darius is out now, hoping to find some more people we can trust. Whoever this is, they are putting some serious pull behind this.”
Eylsa pushed her chair back and turned to face them. “You are all in danger keeping me here.”
Cade dropped into a chair next to her and rested a hand on her arm. “It’s nothing we can’t handle.”
“You’re lying. Master is sending people to find me and you are all in danger.”
Brendan sighed. “It doesn’t matter. We are not letting you go back.”
She shook her head, rubbing her fingers into her temples. “And what precisely do you plan to do with me? How long before they find me? How long before someone realizes what I am?” She guffawed. “It was stupid of me to come here.”
Brendan crossed his arms. “That’s enough of that. You are here and we will deal with it.”
She fell silent but her eyes still swam with pain and questions.
“What we need now is to put up defenses,” he went on. “Find somewhere safe to hide her. Here is too obvious.”
Trey laid a hand on the back of her chair. “Brendan’s right. We have to find somewhere that is not connected to any of us but is still defensible.”
Cade tapped his lip with a finger. “The Tribunal has several safe houses. They are all warded and said to be impenetrable.”
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