by Scott Baron
Laskar nodded, but his countenance said he did not like this plan one bit. “But what if the guards––”
“Do not worry yourself about them,” Hozark replied. “This is not your normal contract, nor is Maktan your average target. There shall be no mercy for his guards this time. Swift and decisive, that is how this must play out. And his guards shall fall with him.”
“Isn’t that a bit, uh, different from what you usually do?”
“Yes, but once Visla Maktan is gone, these guards would simply move along and be reassigned to another member of the Twenty. Only this time, they would have first-hand knowledge of our tactics, and that is something we simply cannot allow. That is a learning curve that we shall cut off before it begins. And now, Laskar, please, set us down and go about your act. Demelza and I have much to do. If all goes well, we shall return and dock with the ship and none will be the wiser.”
“And if things don’t go well?”
Hozark flashed a wry grin. “In that case, I just hope you are standing by your skree and are ready for a quick escape.”
Chapter Eleven
To any observing, the tall man who exited the newest vessel to arrive at the “spa” facility on Trazzip was just like the others who frequented the establishment. The way he stretched languorously as he set foot on the landing area while taking in the sights, filling his lungs with fresh air and the faint aroma of perfume, was that of a man perfectly at home in a house of ill repute such as this.
And there was his smile, and that gleam in his eye as he made his way down the short pathway to the main entrance. This was a truly happy man, and once inside he would surely spend well and enjoy his stay.
While all eyes were on Laskar––both those of the staff as well as the handful of Visla Maktan’s plainclothes guard––Hozark and Demelza were free to quietly separate their shimmer ships from the mothership. It took a little extra power and a bit of patience to make their departure utterly unnoted, but the two assassins were more than up to the challenge.
They settled into their pre-arranged flight pattern and began the long slog to the Maktan estate, leaving Laskar to do whatever he felt he needed to do to keep up the disguise. Neither really wanted to know the details of what that would entail.
The pair stayed relatively low due to the faint cloud cover that was present that day. Had they ascended much higher, their movements would have been plain for all to see despite the use of their shimmer cloaks. Clouds could be excellent cover when hovering stationary, but movement would quickly turn them from a misty protection to a liability.
The planet was small, and the craft fast, and in short order the two Ghalian arrived at the Maktan estate. Both had their senses on high alert as they reached out for the defensive spells certain to be hidden in the skies around the property.
Sure enough, it seemed multiple layers of wards and traps had been placed at varying altitudes, leaving only a pair of clear paths in and out of the property’s airspace. The assassins could have pushed ahead, navigating the hidden passageway unnoted, but to do so would have also placed their ships within the defensive array, and if something went wrong, they would certainly not wish to have their craft within that perimeter when it locked down.
Instead, they each touched down outside the estate’s grounds and defenses, tucking their shimmer ships into a small copse of trees, where they would be highly unlikely to be accidentally stumbled upon. Then, the two joined up for the approach on foot.
They ran most of the way, their muting spells muffling the sound of their footfall while their shimmer cloaks were left idle. They were going after a visla, and a rather powerful one at that. They needed to conserve every drop of magic they could.
Though both were well-fed on power and carried several konuses and slaaps in addition to their blades, using any of that precious magic was something to be avoided if at all possible. The expenditure to keep their cloaks active as they ran could very well be the difference between success and failure should the assassination devolve into full-on magical combat.
The grounds within the estate’s high walls was their destination. If intel had proven correct, and if the visla held to the habits of his daily routine despite the somewhat locked-down nature of this retreat, then he would be outside for his nightly post-dinner stroll any time now. The perfect time to end him, when he was not safely ensconced within the labyrinth of the property’s corridors and chambers.
It seemed that Visla Zinna Maktan had long been in the habit of going for a post-meal stroll. It was a practice he had first taken up years earlier when he and his wife had first become a couple. Over the years, the two had continued the practice, and now, even as a widower, he still continued despite the now solitary nature of the walks.
He had not taken a new wife after her death, it seemed, nor had he had any lovers of any consequence. That was good. That meant he would almost certainly be on his own as he walked. There was a single child of their union, a son, but he was fully grown and had a life of his own far, far away. No one else would be caught up in the night’s affairs.
This was between the assassins and Maktan. As it should be. If things got ugly, there would be no need to hold back for fear of the slaughter of innocent bystanders, as was the duo’s preference. They were killers, but of a precise nature. Indiscriminate slaughter was not their stock-in-trade.
The Ghalian navigated their way through a moderate series of traps and pitfalls as they approached the compound wall. Neither had spoken a word the entire approach, nor would they until the task was completed, if possible.
With prey such as a visla on the Council of Twenty, every little edge they could give themselves counted.
Of course, unless the visla was specifically casting amplification spells to suss out potential intruders, they would be fine, but there was no sense tempting fate. Both had engaged their shimmer cloaks as soon as they’d come within visual range of the property, so aside from the visla himself, none in attendance should have the power to note their approach.
Many employed the use of shimmer cloaking, including some Council bodyguards, but none were as proficient as the Wampeh Ghalian. It was just one of the many things that had helped make them the greatest order of assassins in the galaxy.
Demelza stopped short when she sensed Hozark abruptly slow his approach just in front of her. A moment later her senses keyed in to what had caught his attention and frozen him like a statue despite his shimmer cloak.
There was a trace of magic in the air. A familiar scent of power. Not entirely what she’d sensed in the past, but rather an unguarded, unmasked bit that possessed that familiar feeling she’d encountered before. Maktan’s power, but not being disguised and altered this time.
He was in a safe place, one of his homes, and this brief, unprotected glimpse at his true magical signature informed them both of two things. First, it was definitely Maktan’s power they had encountered before. Even though it had been altered and disguised, blended and obscured, the bloodline’s true nature could not be entirely erased.
Second, the man possessed as much power as they had feared. Perhaps even a bit more. It was no wonder Ravik had worked beneath him, even though both were vislas. Maktan, despite his passive, and frankly unimpressive, reputation within the Twenty, was strong. His public persona was one thing, but what he had done in secret was another.
Confident they had not been sensed, Hozark began moving once more, Demelza close behind. They still had to pierce the outer perimeter wall to enter the estate, but for two such as they, that should pose no significant problem. Once inside, however, things could get very interesting, very fast.
Both hoped that if that happened, the visla would fall quickly. From what they had just sensed, anything less could very possibly be more than they could handle, even with their efforts combined. In any case, they would find out soon enough.
Chapter Twelve
Walls were funny things. People often took one look at an imposing stone beast
of an obstacle in front of them and simply gave up, assuming the thing to be utterly insurmountable. But Hozark knew better.
Walls had many ways to pass them, be it over, under, around, or even through, and this was no different, though there was a fair amount of additional magical protection in this particular instance.
Intruders would most often seek to gain access at the most remote portion of a wall. It was for precisely that reason Hozark and Demelza quietly made their way to the exact opposite portion, opting for the well-lit and guarded entryway.
Multiple layers of traps and alarm spells had been placed at all of the nooks, crannies, and perceived weak spots in the defense, cast in a manner so as a lesser intruder might not have noticed them. These two, however, made quick note of the obstacles and shifted their course to the least expected of ingresses.
Knowing that the visla was here surreptitiously gave them an advantage. The main gates, though guarded, as they always were, had not received any overt addition to their fortifications. To do so would have drawn attention to them, and thus made it obvious the visla was on the grounds, the exact opposite of what was desired.
Therefore, what was normally considered the most difficult point of entry for uninvited guests was actually one of the easiest. Once you got past the sentries, that is. Fortunately, skilled use of a shimmer cloak could accomplish that with relative ease.
The gateway to the inner confines of the estate proper would take a bit more effort to navigate, but fortunately for the pair of assassins, the visla was in the habit of walking the gardens and pathways just within the outer wall. All they had to do was get to them.
Invisible to all, the cloaked duo crept past the sentries with the greatest of stealth, moving slowly, yet decisively, casting muting spells about themselves in addition to their shimmer spells.
Once inside the short tunnel through the wall, they split to opposite sides as they slid forward toward the beckoning opening to their destination. But they did not rush through. There would undoubtedly be additional guards, wards, and alarms placed all about now that they were inside the wall and out of sight of passersby.
Now it would be okay for the visla’s guard to have a somewhat more overt presence, though they would still keep it as hidden as possible, lest the minimal staff still on hand take note and start gossiping.
Hozark and Demelza both did as their training dictated, feeling for the tendrils of magic that would undoubtedly be blocking their way. Sure enough, with patience and skill, each found the delicate web of magical alarms and trap spells woven over the tunnel’s opening.
They could have disarmed them, but with the likelihood of roving patrols coming across the deactivated spells before their work was finished, they instead used gentle force to push the triggers aside, allowing themselves a small gap through which they could pass undetected. Once on the other side, they simply let the magic slide back to its original place. It required a bit more magic than they wished to expend, but there was simply no other option.
Before they moved on, a faint marker was left on the key strands, which would allow them to readily attach to them for a reverse of the process in a hurry on their way out if needed. Ghalian were known not only for pulling off the most difficult of assassinations, but also for almost never being caught. This sort of precaution was one of the reasons why.
The sky was dimming, but there was still a fair amount of light as the sun lowered on the horizon. Long shadows had begun falling across the estate, and soon enough it would be dark. But the visla dined relatively early, and thus, his post-meal stroll would be done in the waning hours of the planet’s long day.
The intel on the property had described the maze of pathways that wove through the gardens, and Hozark was pleased to note they had been almost entirely accurate. Of course, some small changes always occurred when groundskeepers replanted items or shifted a small crop from one area to another, but for the most part, it was as expected.
And that meant he and Demelza would be carefully creeping ahead while avoiding the pathways.
The trigger spells were expertly laid. Whoever had set them for the visla’s protection was quite skilled and had a solid grounding in defensive tactics. Obviously, this head of security was more than a figurehead.
But shimmer cloaked as they were, the two Ghalian assassins could still move through the grounds relatively easily; it just took more time, as they had to avoid the pathways. And as skilled shimmer users, when they held perfectly still, they were all but impossible to detect. In short order, they moved into what would be the most advantageous position from which to close the gap and strike when the visla appeared.
One shortcoming of the plan was that they did not know which path Maktan would take. And that same uncertainty was woven into the warding spells on the paths. As the man walked, however, his very presence would clear the path in front of him. A clever tactic, but one that would do him no good if his attacker was waiting patiently for his approach, rather than moving toward him on their own.
Hozark sensed magic around the area, but only a lone shimmer-cloaked guard was apparent to him. It was unusual, feeling those traces without contact, but he quickly put those concerns aside as the visla himself stepped out into the gardens for his walk.
The man was older, but not what one would call old. Late middle age, perhaps, but still in fine health from what he could see. Tall, with straight posture and a confident stride, the visla slowly began his walk, taking deep breaths of the evening air as his meal settled in his stomach.
It would only be a matter of time before he made his way to either Hozark or Demelza, and as utterly motionless as the pair were within their shimmer cloaks, he would not notice them at all unless he was actively seeking them out. And here, in the safety of his own estate, why would he even think to expend such power?
Hozark watched the man walk. Unimpressive, he thought to himself, a bit surprised at the man’s countenance. He had expected something more. But Visla Zinna Maktan was something of a letdown. But then, many of the most devious of killers seemed quite different from their true natures.
Maktan took his time, deep in thought, it seemed, as he slowly made a circuit of the grounds. He had chosen a route that would not bring him to Hozark for a little while yet, but the assassin was quite familiar with waiting, and his patience was legendary.
“A message for the visla,” an unexpected courier called out from the far end of the courtyard.
Hozark felt his stomach tense as the fool abruptly rushed onto the path, triggering multiple wards and alarm spells. The grounds burst into light, the defensive spells illuminating every square inch while the pathway became a defensively charged blockade, shielding the visla from all sides.
Less than a second later, Hozark realized why he had felt that extra bit of power in the air, as well as why the visla was still not using any of his power to pierce shimmer magic. Dozens of shimmer-cloaked security guards leapt into action, surrounding the visla, providing a living shield, and one bristling with weapons both conventional and magical.
In a matter of seconds, the protective detail rushed Maktan from the area rather than engage the courier, who was now lying stunned on the ground. It seemed an honest mistake, but these guards took no chances. Many ruses were made to seem as such, and Hozark could not help but admire their discipline as they bundled the visla off to the nondescript ship waiting in the nearby courtyard.
The craft did not wait for any entourage, but leapt into the sky the moment the visla was aboard, heading straight for space as guards encircled the downed courier while others fanned out to scour the grounds.
Hozark moved quickly for the exit, knowing Demelza was doing the same. The tunnel would be guarded as before, but perhaps a few additional sentries might have been summoned into position as well.
None of that mattered, though. With the spells triggered, making an exit required far less finesse than their entry had necessitated. The wards pulled aside quickly, and the duo r
aced through the tunnel and out the far end just as the elongating shadows reached the wall. In no time they had melted into the oncoming night without a trace.
Chapter Thirteen
“You do realize what you interrupted, right?” Laskar grumbled, straightening his clothing as he climbed back aboard the parked mothership. “I mean, talk about timing.”
Hozark and Demelza didn’t even respond to Laskar’s annoyance. He had been well aware of their time constraints when they undertook this mission, and he had no one but himself to blame if he’d taken too long to engage in whatever shenanigans he was up to when his skree blurted out the recall message.
“Stupid freaking dumb luck,” he grumbled as he slid into the pilot’s seat. “So, I assume we’re out of here in a hurry?” he asked, dropping the fully charged Drookonus into its receptacle and bringing up the ship’s power in an instant.
“No, we are not,” Hozark said. “Hold back a moment.”
“But I thought you said we’d have to run if the alarms tripped. Make a hasty escape. That sort of thing.”
“And we would have. However, in this instance, we were not the parties responsible for the tripping of that alarm.”
“What do you mean?”
“There was another present. One who foolishly stumbled right into the visla’s defensive measures.”
“Another assassin? What were they doing there?”
“No, not an assassin,” Hozark corrected. “A mere courier who just happened to step in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Laskar looked confused.
“He triggered the alarms before we could reach Maktan,” Demelza clarified. “The visla’s guards swarmed the man and surrounded the visla before we could act.”
