Silver Huntress (Sisterhood of Assassins: Iliana's Story Book 2)

by Nia Night

  I watched the others take sips of their stew before taking from mine, and earned a few knowing smirks from the strangers with whom I dined. In the silence, I took note of their singularities, and realized with a bit of a start that they were all older females—save for the smug Demon male at the opposite end of the table, who seemed to be pointedly ignoring my presence—and they were all of various supernatural races.

  I took another spoonful of the stew, which was hot and delicious on my tongue after days of starvation. The older Fae let me get down a few bites before she began.

  “What do you know about us, Iliana?” she asked.

  “You’re scholars,” I said, and glanced at the courtyard around us. “Keepers of knowledge.”

  The Fae nodded. “Is that all?”

  “Is there more?” I countered.

  An almost-smile flashed, canines peeking out before disappearing. “There’s always more,” she replied.

  I suppressed an eye roll and leaned back in my seat, holding the old Fae’s eyes and folding my hands in my lap.

  She studied me a moment before saying, “You broke The Sister’s Code when you took in Vida, when you stepped in between the child and the Accursed… Why?”

  This question took me aback. When I saw the Demon male glance up for the first time, I realized every person at the table was staring at me then, waiting for my answer.

  “I…don’t know,” I said. It was true.

  The male Demon snorted and returned to brooding over his soup again. I pretended not to notice as the Fae female continued to hold my gaze. “My name is Zia Nakhti. I am the Literati on High,” she said.

  It took a moment for me to absorb this, to process that I was sitting at a table with one of the most revered positions in the supernatural world. Even orphan assassins like myself knew of the Literati on High—knew the name Zia Nakhti. I was dining with a living legend.

  “Impressive,” I said, because I was kind of a dick.

  A couple of the other females shook their heads as they glanced at their leader, and I pretended not to notice again as the Demon male shot me a disgusted, if not surprised, look before returning to ignoring me.

  “You snuck into the Academy of the Sisterhood,” Zia continued. “I can only assume it was in attempt to retrieve the child from the Sisters. You were disgraced for it, punished to death…but again, why? Why do such things for a child you don’t know? Why, when you’ve spent your entire existence taking life?”

  I wasn’t sure if it was intended, but my walls went up. Her words were not lies, were not spoken harshly or with obvious judgment, but somehow, they managed to make me feel attacked.

  “I told you,” I said through gritted teeth. “I don’t know.”

  “Waste of time,” mumbled the Demon male.

  My eyes narrowed. “If you have something to say to me,” I snapped at him. “Then say it. Don’t mumble under your breath about it like a little bitch.”

  The male leaned forward in his seat, resting his forearms atop the table. It was impossible not to feel the dark power radiating off him. If for nothing else, I hated him for that characteristic alone.

  “This is a waste of time,” he repeated slowly, enunciating each word. “Rescuing you was a waste of time.”

  “Ibrahim,” warned Zia.

  I stood from the table, using a remarkable amount of restraint not to send a lick of flame in the male’s direction. I could feel the fire burning in my gaze, though. “You know what? I don’t need this shit,” I said. “I’m done with this.”

  I didn’t know where the door out of this place was, but I began to stride off in the direction from which I’d come. I’d punch through a damn wall if I had to. I didn’t care how revered the people at the table were. They could keep their answers along with their judgment.

  Footsteps sounded behind me, but I picked up my pace.

  “Iliana, please, wait.”

  Had it been any of the others, I would not have. For whatever reason, Vida’s quiet plea made me pause. Made me turn back to face her.

  She came to a stop in front of me, the others watching from over by the table, but out of earshot for the most part. I kept my voice low, letting out a sigh before speaking.

  “Look, kid,” I said, “I’m glad you’re safe. I’m also grateful you didn’t leave me to die at the Academy. Really, I am. But all of this is way out of my league. It’s got nothing to do with me.” I considered placing a hand on her shoulder but refrained. This whole thing was unnecessarily awkward and I was ready for it to be over with. “I’m sorry, but I need to go.”

  To my surprise, Vida nodded. “Okay,” she said. “Wait a second. I’ll be right back.”

  She trotted off before I could respond. So I just stood there staring after her. She returned a moment later wearing a hoodie and old Converse sneakers. She handed me my missing boots and jacket.

  “Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.”

  “Uh…” I said, sliding on the boots and slinging the jacket over my arm. “What are you doing?”

  Vida gave me a look like this was a silly question. “You have to go, so do I. I’m coming with you.”

  I shook my head. “No, you’re not.” I glanced up at the people still sitting at the oak table. Then back at the child. “You’re better off here, Vida.”

  I realized this was the first time I’d spoken her name aloud. A small smile appeared on her face and vanished as quickly, as if she were thinking the same thing.

  “If you leave,” she replied. “I will follow.”

  I scoffed. It was all the reaction I knew to have.

  That was absolutely not happening, but it was still curious. The child barely knew me. Why in the ten hells should she want to follow me around like a damn puppy?

  “You don’t understand what you’re saying. You’re a fool for wanting to do that,” I told her.

  “You’re the one who doesn’t understand,” she said, impatience seeping into her tone now. “I don’t want to come with you. I have to.”

  I blinked at her. “Why?” I snapped.

  “Because you’re my new guardian,” she said.

  The fucking ten hells, I was.

  I didn’t know what dope this child was smoking, but I could use some.

  Again, I had no response, so I only scoffed and blinked. Blinked and scoffed.

  “You must be mistaken,” I said when I could finally find words.

  Zia floated over from where she’d remained at the table, joining Vida where she stood across from me, a protective arm going around the child.

  “There’s no mistake, Iliana,” the ancient Fae said. “The Fates have chosen. You are her new guardian now, whether you like it or not.”

  I stared between the two of them. “Chosen? What do you mean chosen? Sorry to break it to you, but that was a dumb choice. Choose another.”

  Vida shrugged. “Can’t. It’s already done.”

  “What do you mean, ‘It’s already done’?”

  “The Fates chose,” Zia repeated, as if I were dull. “It’s done. Until you die or fulfill your duty, you’re her guardian, like it or not.”

  My mouth dropped open. Die or fulfill my duty. They could not be serious.

  I stared at them. They were totally serious.

  “What the f—” I began, but didn’t finish for the sake of the child.

  “Would you please rejoin us at the table, Iliana,” Zia said, gesturing back at the seat I’d vacated. “Ibrahim will keep his comments to himself,” she added with a sharp look at the male Demon.

  He only glared back at me.

  Ultimately, it was the unanswered questions that drew me back to the table. Or at least, that’s what I told myself.

  I reclaimed the seat and forced myself to remain calm as Vida and Zia did the same. They wanted me to hear them out? Fine. Then I wanted straightforward answers. No more cryptic bullshit.

  “Who healed me?” I asked.

  “I did,” Zia answered. “A gift of my
people.”

  “What do you want with her?” I jerked my chin toward the child.

  “To keep her safe, out of the wrong hands. To maintain the Veil between the worlds.”

  “Why?”

  “How much history do you know, Iliana?” Zia asked.

  My teeth gritted, but I forced my jaw to relax. I knew only the history that had been taught to me at the Academy. The stories of the Original Sisters, and the writing of The Code. Other than that, the only knowledge I had was what I’d learned from my mother before she’d died, which was not much other than scraps of fairytales.

  For whatever reason, I had a feeling Zia Nakhti knew this, so I didn’t bother with an answer.

  “Before the Veil was raised by the Sorceress Queen Soraya Stormsong, humans and supernaturals, mortals and immortals, lived in a world where each knew of the others. It was a violent, dark time of endless war and bloodshed. There were great floods and famine. Entire peoples and kingdoms were wiped out, whole species of magnificent creatures lost, never to return.

  “Queen Soraya was among the more powerful Sorceresses of her time, but even her strength was not enough to keep the bloodshed at bay. She needed help, so she collected a handful of females from various races, with various gifts and magics, to help her raise a veil between the worlds of immortals and men. The Veil would allow them to share the same realm, but to remain wholly unaware of one another. Two worlds, side by side, separate, but not.”

  I took a sip of the stew that I’d abandoned to settle my suddenly twisting stomach. Of course I knew about the Veil between the human world and that of the supernaturals, but the history of how it might have come to be had never occurred to me. I had just supposed that it had always been the way it was, some natural order. Sitting at the table with such learned people all of a sudden awoke me to my terrible ignorance, to the awful deficit of knowledge I had as a result of being raised a Sister. I swallowed away these thoughts for later. The stack of shit I’d need to mentally sift through when I got a chance was growing higher with every breath.

  “Queen Soraya managed to gain six allies among the high ranking females of other races. Each provided a piece of their power, a small sacrifice of the soul, in order to pull off the feat of raising the Veil. Vida is the reincarnation of what the human female gave, the sacrifice she made. A piece of the mortal queen that is one of the seven keys.”

  I looked over at the child, who sat listening to this as though she’d heard the story a thousand times.

  “The only way to break the Veil is to unite the seven keys, but the power of each is great in its own right. Old magic. The kind that has been mostly lost to the ages. With just one of the keys, a person could do incredible damage. With all seven, they could drop the Veil, bring about another great war, and claim the world as their own.”

  A string of curses went through my head. Only my shock kept me from voicing them.

  Zia Nakhti looked at me now with an intensity that was difficult not to squirm under. But Sisters do not squirm.

  You’re not a Sister anymore, a voice in my head reminded, and under the table, my left thumb brushed my right wrist, where there had once been a tattoo and now was only a hideous scar. You’re nothing. Nothing at all.

  As these thoughts drifted through my head, I glanced over at Vida, who was watching me with silent, indiscernible poise. She didn’t utter a sound, but somehow, the words passed between us.

  You’re not nothing, the child said without saying. I already told you, you’re my guardian.

  5

  So soldier the fuck up.

  No one spoke these words, either, but they hung in the air, nonetheless.

  Even if I believed all this—which was not to say that I did—I still had more questions.

  “Why does the Sisterhood want her?” I asked.

  Zia shrugged. “The Sisters are contract killers. I would assume they are under contract by whomever is collecting the keys.”

  I decided to ignore the ‘contract killers’ comment and faced the child instead. “Tell the Fates to pick someone else,” I said.

  She shook her head. “That’s not how it works.”

  You could just kill her, I thought, and was ashamed of the consideration as soon as it entered my head. But it entered, nonetheless. I supposed old habits died hard. But if Vida really was some powerful key that could end the world as we knew it, why not just kill her and eliminate the risk altogether?

  Again, the child seemed to read my thoughts.

  “If I die,” she said quietly, “the power only moves to someone else. Another vessel to carry the burden.”

  I swallowed but said nothing. I had the decency to feel a small spiral of shame; an emotion I’d thought had been beaten out of me long ago.

  They didn’t understand. I didn’t protect things. I destroyed them. I was a murderer. By most accounts, a monster. I said as much.

  “Who better to keep the monsters away?” asked Zia.

  The Demon male at the other end of the table glanced up at this but said nothing.

  “You know, the last person who convinced me to get involved with this mess ended up not being who he said he was, and I got stripped of my title and tied to a pole and beaten, left to die. Now, my whole life is flipped upside down because of it,” I said. “You’ll have to excuse me if this is all a little difficult to absorb.”

  Kieran had told me that he was the child’s new guardian when trying to convince me to help him. With this thought, I flashed back to that first evening at the Academy after I’d been caught by Warden Valda. Remembered seeing the Angel in the sky and foolishly thinking that he’d come to rescue me. Remembered him landing on the Warden’s balcony. Sharing a kiss with her.

  The bastard had been lying through his teeth about everything.

  Why, though? Why go to the trouble if they’d already had their hands on the child? What end goal had deceiving and punishing me served?

  With what I’d heard thus far, I was starting to think that I didn’t want the answers to any of these questions. The other occupants of the table sat in silence as I turned these things over.

  “I need a drink,” I mumbled, and was pleasantly surprised when one of the females rose and returned with a single glass and a bottle of moonshine. I couldn’t tell what her race was, but her eyes were the most vibrant emerald I’d ever seen, and there was a mischievous glint in them that I felt an unspoken kinship to.

  I nodded my thanks and poured myself a glass. Swallowing down the amber liquid in a single swig, I poured myself another.

  The Demon male at the other end of the table watched in silence, a disgusted twist to his lips. If he wasn’t such a dickwad, the bastard might’ve been handsome. I ignored him and poured myself another.

  Once that was drained, I set the glass aside, let out a breath, and met Zia’s eyes. “What if I refuse?”

  She spread her weathered hands. “The child will be without her guardian. Unprotected.”

  Ibrahim opened his mouth as if to say something, but a look from Zia had him snapping it closed again.

  “Awesome,” I said. “Anything else I should know?”

  Zia and the child exchanged another look, and I was a heartbeat away from snapping when the former said, “She’s also a beacon.”

  Whatever I’d been about to say died in my throat. “Excuse me?”

  “Vida,” Zia said. “Her power draws others with power. It’s why they will keep finding her.”

  “Who will keep finding her?”

  “The Accursed, the Sisterhood, the magic users, the Angels and other Demons. Even the mortals. They are like moths to her flames. She can be hidden, but only for so long. That’s why your protection is so important.”

  Well, this shit just kept getting better and better.

  I nodded and gestured around the table. “And you all are so noble that you have no interest in this power? I’m just supposed to believe that you’re the good guys? How do I know you’re not playing me? Gett
ing me to do what you what for your own ill gains?”

  “Despite what your experience may have taught you,” Zia said gently, “there are good people in the world, Iliana.”

  I snorted and rolled my eyes, pretending her words had no effect on me.

  “The people at this table have studied and maintained the histories of our world,” she continued, ignoring my flippant behavior. “We’ve read the accounts of life before the Veil was put into place. My mother fought in the Great Wars. Nearly five hundred years have passed since I was a child, and her stories still stalk my nightmares. Believe it or don’t, but we are little more than historians trying to keep the peace.”

  I would not have referred to the Literati as “little more than historians,” but this was the least of the concerns.

  “How do you know I’m the new guardian?” I asked. “Was there a memo I missed?”

  “I saw the mark when I was healing you,” Zia answered. “There’s no mistaking it.”

  “What mark?” I asked, my body going very still.

  In answer, Zia opened her right hand and tapped the palm of it before nodding to me.

  My brows furrowed as I slowly unfurled my own right hand and turned it palm up. My heart stopped dead in my chest as this revealed the silver outline of a keyhole, large enough that it took up my entire palm.

  Vida held her left hand up, showing me her palm.

  And the silver key that was inked there. A perfect match to the silver on my own.

  I cursed out loud this time. The child only nodded. As if to say, Indeed.

  A new mark to replace the one that had been cut off my wrist.

  A new mission.

  A new purpose…

  I had absolutely zero interest in this shit.

  I knew that was crappy of me, but it was what it was. I poured myself another glass of moonshine, the poison burning down my throat on the way to my belly. I stood from the table, holding up my hands to stop the comments before they could start.

  “I just need a minute. Some fresh air,” I said. “I’ll come back, just tell me how to get out of this place so I can get some space.”