Chapter 4

Connor did his best not to think about the smoothness of Emma's skin against his palm as he led her by the hand across the street. He was careful to evade bumping into anyone, and she was quiet as a mouse behind him. While he assumed they were raising a few eyebrows, nobody stopped them or said anything, and with his hood pulled up most of the blood splatter was hidden.

Once they had reached the shadowy alleyway across from the holding cells, Connor looked over his shoulder at Emma and gestured to a pile of crates stacked against the nearest wall. There was a flash of fear and uncertainty in her eyes.

"It's alright," He assured her in a low voice. "I'll be right behind you."

She didn't hesitate after that and immediately began climbing up the boxes. The young man internally remarked at how nimble she was, scurrying over one and then the other like she had been doing it her entire life, then quickly followed suit, taking two at a time so they reached the top of the pile at approximately the same moment. Without thinking about his actions being misconstrued he grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her into the air so she could grab the edge of the rooftop. A small squeak of surprise escaped her but she otherwise didn't protest. Connor jumped and caught the eaves, pulling himself onto the roof with no difficulty, but Emma was still struggling. Her slight frame made it easy for him to kneel down and help her up alongside him. Now on the roof, the assassin breathed a long sigh of relief.

"Now what?" Emma whispered, and though Connor could have sworn she sounded a little bit excited, he couldn't read her face since she was facing away from him, gazing out over the city skyline.

"I'm going to bring you back to the homestead, where you'll be safe."

"What's that?"

"My home."

"Yes, I gathered…" She spun around to look right at him, blond locks lilting gently in the cool morning breeze. "I suppose I meant where's that."

"How about I just show you?" He replied, suddenly unnerved. There was a ruckus coming from the building across the street, and town criers were already pooling near the entrance, presumably ready to call for more guards any second. They needed to leave.

"But how…"

"Rooftops, remember?" He smirked a little, confident that his athletics would impress her. Wait, we're presumably about to run for our lives, and I'm thinking about how that will impress her? Connor felt a little shame in that moment; it was the same feeling he got when Achilles scolded him. But there was no time to worry about that now. He pointed the direction they needed to go, and thankfully it wasn't too precarious. The first jump they'd have to make was to the next house over, but there was a long overhang that significantly shortened the distance.

"I can't…" Emma stared at him, directly into his eyes, as if she was looking for something. He felt his heartbeat speed up and his ears start to go hot, but for lack of knowing how to respond, he simply stared back at her for a long moment until he reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. She looked down at the ground for a moment – Connor felt himself ache for her gaze again – and then suddenly turned on her heel and started sprinting towards the edge of the roof. Connor froze.

The young woman sailed through the air briefly before landing indelicately on the next rooftop, her feet wide apart and her arms flailing to keep balanced. Now Connor was the one who was impressed as he shook himself out of his daze and ran after her, though he landed much more gently.

"That was brave," He remarked, but she didn't respond. As soon as he came up beside her she took off again, this time crossing a precariously-placed plank of wood to get to the next building. Her tiny feet were certainly advantageous for that sort of thing, since she was able to maintain her quick speed when she dashed across it, while Connor had to go much slower, carefully planting each foot to ensure his weight wouldn't cause him to spill onto the street below.

They walked side-by-side to the edge of the rooftop, since even Emma seemed to have gathered that this jump would be trickier than the last. The next house was a short, fat building, and its roof was significantly lower than the one they stood on now. Just as Connor was about to give her instructions for how there were going to proceed, there was a large commotion of guards on the street, yelling and asking people if they had seen someone break out of the prison. The young man pulled Emma down to a kneeling position so they wouldn't be seen if someone happened to look up, and though he didn't exactly mean to, he kept a gentle grip on her forearm. She didn't protest it. Finally, after several intense minutes of waiting in silence, the guards moved on.

"Alright, I'm going to go first," Connor tilted his head so that he spoke directly into Emma's ear, just in case anyone was listening. In spite of having spent the night in jail and being a little dirty from the climb, she smelled excellent. He pulled back sharply – he didn't want her to notice his observation, or worse, for her to think that he was intentionally trying to get too close to her – which elicited a confused look from her but nothing else. Cautiously he got to his feet, trying to ignore the thudding in his chest, and moved from his crouched position over to the edge of the roof before jumping down. He clicked his tongue in disapproval; his landing wasn't as graceful as it could have been. He was letting himself get too easily distracted. Putting the thought out of his mind as much as possible, he straightened his back and looked up at Emma standing on the eaves. Connor planted his feet firmly, digging his leather boots into the abrasive surface of the shingles. Once he felt sturdy enough, he opened his arms wide and gestured with his hands for her to come forward, praying that everything went as he imagined it. She hesitated for a second, and then pushed off from the ledge.

Emma's slender body landed perfectly between Connor's arms, which he used to quickly grab her and hold tight before she slipped out of his grip. He could feel she had grabbed his jacket on impact and she was still clinging to it, shaking a little, probably from the adrenaline. Her head was pressed near where his neck met his shoulder. He took a few deep breaths and held her there for moment, trying to keep his own body from shaking with exhilaration at the new sensation of physical contact beyond the occasional pat on the back from Achilles.

"Good job," He breathed, releasing her with a certain amount of regret. "I am sorry to put you through this. I'm sure it's nothing like what you're used to."

Connor thought he might be imagining things, but it felt like Emma took a second or two longer to let go of his jacket than she needed once her feet touched down on the rooftop. Her eyes were bright as a small smile broke out on her pale face.

"Actually…" She bit down on her lower lip for a moment before continuing. "In spite of my earlier concerns – and ignoring my concerns about the immediate future – I'm quite enjoying myself in all this. I never thought I'd do something so exciting in all my life."

There were so many things Connor wanted to reply with, or ask her about, but now wasn't the time. He would have her back at the homestead soon enough, where she'd be safe, and there they could rest and he would have plenty of time to learn all about this mystery girl who he'd suddenly found himself so fascinated with. Assuming, of course, that Achilles doesn't lock me in the basement for the rest of my life for going out of my way to disobey him… or just kill me. He smirked with irony at his own thought, and then shook his head to clear it. They needed to keep moving.

"You'll have to wait here for a minute," Connor instructed Emma as he helped her dismount from his horse upon reaching the homestead. "And I'll bring you something to change into, since I'm sure that's not very comfortable."

"Why do I have to wait out here?" Emma folded her arms.

Connor averted his gaze. "Uh…"

"Well?"

"It's… um… It's just that…"

"Conner!" An all-too-familiar voice bellowed from behind them, causing the young man to flinch at the sound. "Connor, may mercy find you once I've finished…"

Achilles trailed off his thought when Connor turned to face him, revealing the slight blonde girl he had previously been blocking from view. While Connor didn't think he had ever heard Achilles sound so mad, the expression that crossed his face as he registered just who this girl was and why she was here was terrifying all on its own. The older man composed himself, straightening his jacket before coming down off the porch. Connor opened his mouth to say something – even if he didn't know what he intended to say – but Achilles pushed right past him, pressing his hand into Connor's chest hard enough for the assassin to need to take a step back in order to regain his balance.

"My dear, please forgive my use of a harsh tone in your presence," He extended the arm that wasn't leaning on his cane to her, which she took. "You look like you've had a rough night. Why don't you accompany me inside and I'll have the maid find you something to put on. We certainly can't have you running about dressed like that; you'll catch your death. Come now."

"Achilles…" Connor tried, following after them for a few steps; however, Achilles half-turned at the door to the house and blocked the entrance with his cane.

"You," The old man's voice was filled with ice. "Can wait outside until I come back."

Connor didn't bother arguing, knowing it would only make his situation worse. Emma glanced over her shoulder at him as Achilles led her inside, but he couldn't see enough of her face to make out what was going through her mind.

What was I thinking? Connor paced the length of the porch, cracking his knuckles nervously. I went against everything Achilles told me, and why? I don't know even know Emma, and she doesn't know me. What deluded idea am I giving myself with all this? Achilles is never going to let me become a master assassin if I can't follow simple instructions. He then thought about Emma sitting in that room in the prison building, tied to the bed, crying. His heart skipped a beat thinking what could have happened to her if he hadn't come along. As he continued pacing, his thoughts drifted to the day he lost his mother, the image of her trapped under the burning log etched into his memory. Suddenly the thought of giving up his future to save a single life didn't seem so ludicrous. After all, he knew he would do anything to be able to go back and save his mother, and he could just imagine the guilt he would have felt if he had left Emma in jail. He decided that whatever Achilles was going to do to punish him, it wouldn't be worse than how abandoning her would feel. Still, what's my plan in all of this? He thought, annoyed with himself that for all his years of training to plan ahead, he had rushed into this entire situation with no end game in mind. But then his thoughts began to wander back to catching Emma when she'd jumped off the roof, and remembered the strange electric sensation of holding her against his body. That moment alone almost makes all of this worth it. Not that I know what's going to happen when Achilles comes back. Not that I have even a shred of proof that Emma wants to spend any time with me beyond her rescue and finding her uncle. Connor let out a long sigh and leaned on the railing of the porch, savoring the feeling of wind on his face. If Achilles did decide to lock him in the basement after everything was done, he would want to remember this feeling.