by James Wisher
“You told me to. Where’s Xander? Isn’t he joining us?”
“No.” Sorren took a furtive look around. “This is a private meeting. That’s why I chose such an out of the way place.”
Anika frowned, not liking the direction the conversation had taken. Her first thought had been a sensitive mission, but now she wasn’t sure. “So what is it?”
“I’ve learned some interesting news. The council plans to offer Xander an elite position.”
She looked at him, waiting for the rest of his news. Sorren said nothing more. He’d called her here for that? “I’ll have to congratulate him.”
“The council hasn’t made an official announcement yet so you shouldn’t say anything. Besides there’s something else we need to discuss.”
Here it comes. “Yes?”
“Did you know I was a friend of your father?”
Anika didn’t recall ever seeing the two of them together, not that that meant anything since her father spent so much time away. “No, I didn’t.”
“I’m not surprised. We kept our friendship quiet. When I heard the council’s plan I was reminded of it. I didn’t think it was fair to elevate a newcomer that joined to gain access to our spies over the daughter of a loyal member.”
“Xander’s better than me. It hurts my pride to admit it, but it’s the truth.”
“It may be true.” Sorren looked around again. “But that doesn’t mean you have to accept it. If you kill Xander I can arrange for you to get the opportunity he’s been promised.”
“You want me to kill him?” Anika couldn’t believe what she’d heard.
“Not so loud. Understand this as long as Xander lives you have two choices to rise above him: improve your skills to surpass his or kill him. No offense, but I don’t see you becoming more skilled than Xander.”
“He saved my life.” Sorren was right about Xander. She’d never be as strong or fast as him, but to kill him? She didn’t know if she could. Before her father died she swore she’d be the best, but killing Xander to get there seemed too much.
“That’s why you’re the perfect one to do it, he trusts you. You can catch him off guard in a way no one else can.”
“I can’t…”
Sorren patted her shoulder. “Think about it. You’ll make the correct decision, for yourself and your father’s memory.”
He slunk off leaving Anika alone with her thoughts. She wandered aimlessly through the halls, one thought rattling through her head. Could she kill her lover?
* * *
Xander finished his workout and went to finish the chess match he’d started with Grandfather yesterday. For the past few weeks he’d trained with Anika to help her get her strength back, but she still couldn’t manage a full session. He smiled. They’d gotten even closer since returning from their last mission. Anika shared his room in all but name. He worried their close relationship might get in the way on a mission, but not enough to stop seeing her. Xander hadn’t been this happy since before Hakim killed Sophia.
He made his way through the halls, nodding to the occasional familiar face. When he reached Grandfather’s door he found it unlocked. Xander knocked and entered. He found the chess board sitting as they’d left it. Grandfather was too weak now to manage a full game in one sitting. Though he kept his thoughts to himself Xander feared the old man had little time left.
“Hello Grandfather.” Xander carried the chessboard over to the old man sat amongst his pillows.
“You’ve been training.” Grandfather sat up and studied the board. Weak as he was Grandfather still beat him eight out of ten games.
Xander took a couple sniffs and winced. “I didn’t bother to wash up. Sorry.”
“Nonsense, that’s the smell of hard work and dedication. I wish more of our people worked as hard as you.” Grandfather made a move and Xander countered. “Your patience needs work. Learn to study your opponent before you act. Once you master that you’ll be unstoppable.”
“I’ll do my best, Grandfather, but patience was never my strong suit.” He’d lost track of how many times the old man scolded him for acting too fast.
Grandfather chuckled and took Xander’s bishop. “We all have our weaknesses. Dealing with them is what makes life interesting.”
Xander studied the board and considered Grandfather’s advice. Telling him to have more patience was simple enough, but it was execution that counted. Xander frowned. Grandfather had mate in seven moves. The frown smoothed when he realized he could get two of his opponent’s pieces, but it’d cut the duration of the game by half. When in doubt Xander attacked.
When they finished Grandfather said, “You shortened the game by attacking.”
“When we first started playing you told me chess was like life. If that’s true then when I saw I couldn’t win I chose to hurt my enemy as much as possible before I fell. In real life that’s how I would want go.”
Grandfather laughed then coughed until his body shook. When he got himself under control he said. “I wish we had more people like you, my boy. I need to rest now.”
“Of course, Grandfather. Do you need anything before I go?”
The old man smiled. “I’ll be fine.”
Grandfather was lying, but Xander had too much respect for him to say anything.
Xander spent the rest of the day in the library studying strategy and philosophy. He sometimes found it hard to sit still, but at moments like this he remembered their little library at home, sitting with Gabriel and Mother. She’d loved to lounge in the sun for hours reading. Xander clenched his fist. She’d done nothing to anyone and she was dead. His nails cut into his palm. Soon, somehow, he’d find out who was behind the attack.
Xander’s stomach growled and he figured it was time to meet Anika for dinner. He replaced his books, left the library, and returned to his room to clean up. When he finished and came out of his small washroom Xander found a rolled up scroll on his bed. He snatched it up; annoyed that someone would sneak into his room. He unrolled the scroll and froze. It said Anika intended to murder him tonight.
His throat tightened. Impossible, Anika would never betray him. They were partners, he’d saved her life. Xander read the scroll twice more as though the warning might change. It didn’t and he couldn’t mistake the stylized G at the bottom of the page. That was Grandfather’s sigil and the old man had no reason to lie. Even worse, he seldom made mistakes. Xander tossed the scroll into the charcoal brazier in the corner of the room. Grandfather made a mistake this time. He had to have. Xander started toward the door then turned the small chest of drawers that held his few possessions. He took a thin bladed dagger from the weapons’ drawer and slipped it between the mattress and frame on his side of the bed.
* * *
Anika picked at her food. Xander saw something bothered her; she usually had a better appetite than him. The silence dragged between them. Unable to stand it any longer Xander asked, “What’s wrong?”
She forced a smile. “Nothing, I’ve been cooped up too long. I’m anxious for a new mission.”
Xander nodded, not believing a word of it. She seemed afraid to meet his eyes. He grimaced. Grandfather’s warning had him seeing ghosts. “I’m sure Sorren will have something for us before long.” He thought her eyes widened when he said Sorren’s name, but wasn’t sure.
“I’m not very hungry. Let’s go back to your room.”
Xander grinned. “Sounds good.”
* * *
Xander laid awake in the dark, mind whirling. Something was wrong with Anika. When they got back to his room she’d been over eager, almost frantic, to get into bed. Not that Xander was bashful, but tonight she had a desperation to her he’d never experienced before. He closed his eyes. Tomorrow he’d try to get her to tell him the problem.
A few minutes later Anika shifted beside him. He almost spoke, but something, instinct perhaps, stopped him. There was little light from the smoldering brazier, but after years of training he followed her movements by sound and feel. In
ch by inch Xander eased his hand over the side of the bed and to the hilt of the dagger.
Roll over and go back to sleep. Xander tightened his grip. Please, go back to sleep.
Next came an intimately familiar sound, steel on leather. She drew a weapon from its sheath. Xander eased the dagger out from its hiding place. Put it away, please.
She shifted again. He had to act or die.
He acted.
Xander drove the dagger up into Anika’s chest. Warm blood ran down his hand. Anika moaned and fell to the side. He pushed her body aside and scrambled out of bed. Xander threw a couple chunks of coal into the brazier and after a moment they flared to life. Anika lay in a pool of blood, a stiletto clenched in her fist.
He threw on a robe and fled, unable to share the same space with her cooling body. Xander needed to talk to Grandfather. He’d know what to do.
Barefoot and bloody handed, Xander ran through the maze of tunnels to Grandfather’s room. Had he met anyone they’d have believed him a mad man. His luck held and he reached Grandfather’s room without encountering another soul. The door wasn’t locked. He went in without knocking.
“I’m sorry, my boy.”
Xander about jumped out of his skin. He hadn’t expected to find Grandfather awake at this hour. The sound of his voice soothed Xander and his heart rate slowed. “You were right. She had a stiletto with her tonight. If not for your warning…”
“There are times I’d prefer to be wrong. I know how much she meant to you.”
Xander nodded in dull silence. He’d thought his capacity to absorb pain maxed out after Sophia’s murder. He was wrong. After a few minutes he asked, “How did you know?”
“First you have to understand not everyone in the guild is pleased with my leadership. Some think I’m too old and others want my power and influence for themselves. One of my enemies is your master, Sorren. He has yet to make an overt move against me, but he works to undermine me whenever he imagines he can get away with it. Given that I keep him under near constant surveillance. One of my people over heard him trying to convince Anika to kill you.”
“That bastard. I’ll kill him.”
“An excellent idea, but I have a favor to ask.”
“Anything.”
“I need you to wait.” Xander scowled and Grandfather hurried on. “Not for long, a few weeks at most. When the time is right he’s yours.”
It seemed his revenge always had to wait. “I will do as you ask, of course, but can you tell me why?”
“A member of the Council of Eight has died. Soon there will be a vote to decide on his replacement. I’ve arranged for Sorren to win that vote. Once he’s on the council you can kill him and take his place. I lose an enemy and gain an ally on the council.”
Xander hated politics, but could find no fault with Grandfather’s reasoning. “What about Anika? Not to mention my bed looks like a war zone.”
“Have no fear. My people are cleaning it up as we speak. We’ll give them an hour then you can go back.”
“What about tomorrow? How do I look Sorren in the eye and not shove a foot of steel through his guts?”
“Strangle him in your mind while you smile and nod like a good assassin. An important skill for you to master is the ability to look your mark in the eye and give no indication you mean to kill him. Use this as training. One last thing, he’ll ask about Anika, Tell him you parted company last night and you haven’t seen her since. Understand?”
Xander nodded, but he had no idea how he’d manage.
Xander returned to his room, but got no sleep. He laid there staring into the dark and thinking about love. It wasn’t healthy for him to love, not for those he loved at any rate. When he got up and for the rest of the week he resembled a zombie more than a person. He saw Sorren twice and managed on both occasions not to murder him on the spot by the narrowest of margins. Servants discovered Anika’s body two days after he killed her. Grandfather’s people made it look like a suicide. Sorren appeared to accept that she preferred to kill herself rather than Xander.
Nine days after Anika’s death Sorren called Xander to his suite. When he arrived he found Sorren strutting around in a strange, shimmering black cloak. He motioned Xander to sit and then joined him.
“You’ve been out of sorts since losing your partner,” Sorren said. “I have news that will cheer you up. I have been elected to the council, due in no small part to your efforts. As a reward you are to be elevated to elite status. You need to complete a final solo mission. With your skill I have doubt about your success. As your superior I will go along to observe and evaluate.”
“I promise I won’t disappoint you.”
“I know you won’t. Get some rest, we leave in the morning.”
Xander left Sorren’s room and returned to his own. On his new mattress was another scroll. Xander’s hands trembled as he unrolled it. The message was short. It said: Finish the mission then he’s yours. It was signed with a G.
At last, at last he had permission kill the pig. For the first time since Anika’s death he slept in peace.
* * *
The ship arrived at the docks of the city of Isis around noon. They sailed south for a little over two weeks. Xander laid back in his hammock and put his arm over his eyes. Seventeen days trapped on a ship with a man he planned to kill. Worse, Sorren wanted to regale him with stories about the city. Sorren was born in Isis and worked in their thieves’ guild before the Shadow Hand recruited him. Tonight they planned to meet the guild master, who happened to be Sorren’s best friend. The two of them having join the guild together and work their way up the ranks. Tonight would be their first meeting in several years. Sorren was so excited you’d swear he was a little kid instead of a middle-aged killer.
There came a knock on his door and Sorren poked his head in. “It’s sunset. Ready to go?”
Xander rolled out of his hammock, belted on his sword, and slung a light pack over his shoulder. “Ready.”
He followed Sorren off the ship and down the docks. The guild master said to meet him in a particular alley a safe distance from the mark’s location. While they walked through the dark city Sorren inflicted more nostalgia on Xander. He robbed a street vendor here, committed his first murder there. Xander almost killed him to get a little quiet.
“We’re here.” Sorren stopped at the edge of an especially rundown neighborhood.
“Where?” Xander eyed the dilapidated buildings and heaps of garbage with distaste. This area looked like a cesspool by anyone’s standards.
“A little ways into the pit and we’ll reach the alley.”
“The pit?” Xander couldn’t believe he’d asked for more information.
“That’s what he called this part of the city. We brought anyone or anything we wanted to disappear here and threw them in just like a pit.”
“It’s a fitting name for the place.”
Sorren smiled. “There’s the alley.”
Something moved in the shadows and Xander loosened his sword in its sheath. If Sorren planed anything he’d be ready.
Sorren glanced at him. “Relax, that’s Dorrin, the guild master. This is where we’re supposed to meet him.”
Xander nodded, but didn’t removed his hand from the hilt of his sword. When they got closer a weasel of a man with thinning, greasy hair and long pointed nose stepped out of the alley. “Sorren?”
Sorren embraced the man like a long lost brother. “Dorrin, it’s been too long.”
The little man relaxed a fraction. “I almost didn’t recognize you. You’ve gained a few pounds.”
Sorren laughed and patted his spreading paunch. “I see you’ve lost more hair.”
Xander cleared his throat. He’d had enough of the friendly insults. “If we can get to the point you two can catch up while I’m gone.”
Sorren guided the guild master next to Xander. “Dorrin, this is my impatient protégé Xander. Xander this is my oldest friend, Dorrin.”
Dorrin looked up a
t Xander, about as comfortable as a rabbit in a cage with a lynx. Xander raised an eyebrow. “Well?”
“Right, the target is the youngest son of the local lord. The target is holed up in a building north of here. There are many guards on the ground floor, but only two guard the secret exit in the roof. That’s your best bet to sneak in. The target is a morbidly obese man with greasy, black hair. You can’t mistake him if you see him. He keeps an ornate sword on the wall of his bedchamber. Bring that back as proof the job is done. I should warn you the sword is rumored to be possessed by the soul of a demon.”
“Right, so what did this slob do to deserve a death mark?”
“What does it matter?” Dorrin asked.
“It doesn’t beyond satisfying my curiosity.”
“I’m curious as well,” Sorren said. “Your letter was rather vague.”
“Wil is the black sheep of the lord’s family and considering the family that’s saying something. He came to Isis a year and a half ago and contacted us about importing and selling a new drug he discovered up north. He offered us a nice cut and we agreed to help. In less than a year Bliss was the most popular drug in Isis and Wil decided he didn’t need us anymore. None of my enforcers can get past his security. Which brings us to you.”
Xander nodded, a little disappointed with the story. “This shouldn’t take long.”
He walked toward the mark’s hideout, studying the debris piled against leaning tenements. In some places he had trouble telling where the junk ended and the building began. Most of the buildings were three stories and separated by narrow alleys. Every building in sight had a flat roof which combined with the short distance between them would make it easy to jump from one to the next.
When he’d moved out of sight of Sorren and the guild master he took a thin silk rope tied to a grappling hook out of his pack. Xander sent the hook up onto one of the roofs, gave it a couple tugs, and climbed. He sighed. Anika usually handled this part of the job. Xander clenched his teeth and pushed the memory aside. He’d settle things soon enough.
