10

.~~~.

Mytho wondered why he expected any different from her. In her own twisted way, she seemed to take pleasure in being chased by someone, whether they were enraged or simply lustful. She glided through the crowds, occasionally peeking over her shoulder at him as if to ensure that she hadn't forgotten how to lure him in. Mytho rounded the street corner, catching sight of her eyes looking sideways at him before she sauntered into an alleyway between two multi-floored mansions. He wondered if it was the time they'd time spent apart that made her more alluring or if she had indeed found a new means of enchanting him. Either way, tailing her made it feel as if it had been a lifetime since they'd engaged in their game of cat and mouse.

When he entered the alley, she'd begun to scale the sides of the mansions, working her way to the rooftops. She stopped for a moment and glanced down at him. With a mocking, sideways grin, unchanged in all the time he'd known her, she kicked a plant off the windowsill.

Mytho caught the flowerpot to stop it from shattering on the ground and shook his head. He looked up and watched her leap from one wall to the other and crawl over the edge of the building, disappearing from sight. Mytho pulled himself up on the lowest windowsill. He cursed the aching stiffness in his back and the weight of his weaponry that made the climb more strenuous than it needed to be.

"You've gotten slow," she said as he hauled himself over the ledge and onto the rooftop.

"I have not," Mytho said, running his thumb along the scuffs and dust he'd found on his coat. "You've just got the advantage, Halora."

"Of age?"

"Of not being stiff from riding on horseback for the past two days," Mytho said, massaging his spine with both hands. "And you're not any younger than I am. Don't think I haven't noticed those tiny wrinkles underneath your eyes."

Halora traced her fingertips along the rim of her eye, her lips falling into a frown. "They must be getting bad if even you can tell," she said. "I'll have to do something about them." She circled around him, hand tucked underneath her chin and eyes wandering up and down.

"If I didn't know any better," he said, "I'd think you were trying to undress me with your eyes."

Halora waved a dismissive hand and shook her head. "I'm only wondering if you are indeed wearing the same outfit that you had on last time we were on a job together." She dragged a finger over his shoulder and squinted hard at the soot leftover from his visit to the Gray Forest. "And wouldn't you know it? You probably haven't washed it since then, either."

Mytho sighed. "Ah, how I missed your jabs, love."

Halora folded her arms and narrowed her eyes at Mytho, working her jaw back and forth. "Is that what brought you to Skingrad?" she asked. "Has the Phantom of Bravil finally given into his longing?"

Mytho slipped his arm around her waist. Her subtle fragrance, barely imperceptible when put against the aroma of grape and wine in the air of the city, made him feel a tinge of yearning he'd forgotten about. Nostalgia. Rather, he'd buried it and hoped it'd be smothered. "If, by chance, he did," Mytho said, "Would you humor him for a bit?"

Halora put her hand around the back of his head, running her fingers through his hair and looking at up at him with her sharpened, brown eyes. For a moment, her lip quivered, the harshness of her demeanor at the point of breaking, but she slipped out of his grasp and paced along the rooftop. "Maybe," Halora said, "But only if his stories are worth listening to."

Mytho shrugged. "Where should I begin?"

Halora perched on the edge of the building, overlooking the city with a hard expression. "You could start by explaining why you harassed Toren," she said, "And interrupted my attempt at recruiting him into the Guild."

"Er, my apologies." Mytho scratched at the back of his neck. "I've been contracted," he said, "By the type of man that doesn't understand the definition of the word 'no.' I'd have turned the bastard down, but rumors and a gut feeling tells me that trying to run will end with a blade in my back. If he's feeling generous, that is." Mytho sat on the ledge beside her and let his legs hang over the side of the building. "Wants me to track down some lass and her teacher. Same ones that caused that fire near Kvatch, if you can believe it."

Halora's laugh was absent of humor. "And you took out your frustration on that poor boy?"

"I fed him," Mytho said. "And paid him in advance for a lead on someone else in town. What kind of man do you take me for?"

"Not the kind you pretend to be," she said. "But continue, please. I'm dying to hear how you've dug yourself a grave this time."

Mytho sighed. Prickly as ever. "I followed their trail to the Gray Forest," he said. "All I found was a damn book that I can't pry open no matter what I do, though. So, without much else to go on, I came to Skingrad to look for another lead. Now I've found myself in another predicament because Toren's information points me to Ilawe, one of the Count's servants."

"So you need a way into the Castle, then," Halora muttered. "I see how that'll be an issue."

"It's not the getting in I'm worried about," Mytho said, "It's the getting out once I have what I need. Things could get rather messy before I have a chance to tie up loose ends and skip town."

Halora's eyes dug into him, burning him with their weaponized scrutiny. "Unless you've gotten rusty then you could tear your way in and out of the castle in a night," she said. "What's a few bodies to you?"

"A means to an end if circumstance makes them that way," Mytho said. "A means of making sure mine isn't tossed in a shallow hole before I'm good and ready." He looked back at her, meeting her glare. "And a means of rooting out traitors before they have the chance to hurt someone. But is that the Guild talking or Halora?"

"A bit of both," she said and stood up. She paced around the rooftop, unbothered by the howling wind, clicking her tongue as if she feared stagnant silence. "Murder and mayhem have their place, but we've already agreed to disagree on the proper time for them. Is that the only option you have?"

"I know it's not ideal, but I don't have time to be careful," Mytho said. "The longer I wait, the larger the gap between me and my targets grows. I'd place my coin on him catching them eventually, but if it's not by my hands, then it won't just be their heads rolling." The still-healing scrapes and bruises on his face ached. "It'll be mine as well."

Halora stopped pacing and, for the first time in the conversation, a sliver of genuine concern made itself known in her expression. "Who in Oblivion have you pissed off?" she asked slowly.

"You'd prefer not to know," Mytho said. "Trust me. And if you care enough to be worried, then it'll only keep you awake at night."

"I watch the streets after dark," she said. "I don't have time to sleep much anymore, but fine. Keep your secrets. You always have."

At last, she allowed silence to be exchanged between them. However, he knew that silence had its own language.

"How's the Guild doing, by the way?" Mytho asked, growing uncomfortable with the lack of words. "Things were in a tizzy last time I was here."

Halora stopped pacing and shook her head. "Not as well as we were, unfortunately," she said. "The new Guildmaster does his job well enough. He's skilled and careful enough to avoid the guards' attention, but we've been having issues with a damned vigilante recently. None of the Informants have any idea who he is or where he's come from, but it's like we can't run a proper job at night anymore without him popping up and making a mess of the whole thing."

"Awfully brave of him."

Her brow furrowed deeply to join her sinking frown. "He's not just brave. He's dangerous," she said. "One of our Shadowfoots, Dahlin-Dar, was pulling a sweep job for me a month ago and had a run-in with him." Halora narrowed her eyes on the street. "It was a damn bloodbath. Couldn't even draw his knife before he was struck down."

Being overwhelmed that easily was something Mytho would expect to hear about a young Footpad. Not about an experienced thief one step below being called Master. "Any plans to deal with him or are you just going to let him make a fool of you?"

"That was another reason I was strolling around town," she said. "Someone poked their head into the Guild hideout a little bit ago, saying that someone they didn't recognize was in Skingrad. Imagine my surprise when this stranger isn't that strange after all." She tugged at the knife hanging around her waist and twirled it around her fingers, the steel glinting in the sunlight. "I should've figured it was you."

"Coming to sweep you off your feet again like I did years ago?" Mytho said.

Halora laughed again and tossed the knife in the air. With a single motion, she caught it by the handle and shoved it back into its sheath. "More like coming to make things complicated," she said. "Coming to get yourself involved with as much trouble as you can manage."

"I've always had a nose for conflict," Mytho said. Noting the guard that had glanced up at the sky, Mytho slipped back from the ledge. "You know this is a strange way of asking for my help, don't you?"

Halora's eyes rolled like they were trying to escape their sockets. "By the sound of it, you need my help more than I need yours."

"I can handle my business," Mytho said, jabbing his thumb at his chest. "It's yours I'm worried about. From what I'm hearing, you've been so focused on finding this vigilante but you haven't any idea what to do when you've got him in your grasp."

"The Guild doesn't kill," Halora said. "We coerce. We scheme. We strike deals beneficial to us and the other party and run a clean operation. It's what sets us apart from common bandits." She gnawed on her lip and stopped her aimless wandering. "Everyone has a price. We just need to find his."

Mytho crossed his arms and walked to the other end of the rooftop. "And if you find that he can't be reasoned with, you'll have no other choice but to hope he grows tired of slaughtering your guildmates seeing as the only living member of the Dark Brotherhood in Cyrodiil already has hung up her cowl for good."

The silence that she offered in response was seething – her gaze, damning.

"You've finally been to see her, then?" she said, at last. "Took you long enough. Or did you just slip in and take your gear back without bothering to explain yourself? The poor girl thought you hated her, you know."

Mytho shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat to keep from reeling. "We can sit down later and have a chat about Aressia. As long as you like," he said. He stepped over the edge of the building and twisted around to grab the hanging wall decorations before he could fall. "You've a sharper eye than mine, Hallie. You know when your hands are tied."

Mytho looked down to brace his foot against the wall. A moment before his vision was filled with gray stone, Halora leaped off the opposite edge of the building, purposefully taking a different way than he did.

.~~~.

He's the same as always, Halora thought to herself as she made her way across the High Town district. Frustrating. A moment longer and she might've sincerely offered to help him with his job, but both a hunch and prior experience with him told her that he'd turn her down. An action like that would mean he wasn't his own boss for once.

Halora tugged her hood over her face and glanced at the guards patrolling the street, waiting for someone to garner their attention so she could pass unnoticed. She turned down a street and continued to move, not wanting to loiter for too long when her drab clothes screamed that she didn't belong among the nobility. It wouldn't do for a Doyen of the Thieves Guild to be spotted outside of her element.

Sticking to the shadows cast by the sun moving behind the towering mansions, Halora pushed through the crowded streets, approaching the very street that Dahlin-Dar had been killed on. Within fifteen minutes of being alerted to his death, she'd descended on the place to gather any evidence she could before the guards cleaned up the mess, but now she was feeling as if she needed to refresh herself on the facts.

As Halora stood motionless in the crowd, watching them walk over the spot he'd been struck down, it was as if she could still see his mangled body lying there, fur matted with sticky, red blood. The splatters on the walls and the gashes left behind by either Dahlin-Dar or the vigilante were cleaned and patched, as expected. It was entirely possible that no one in the city knew there had been a murder besides the Guild and the guards. Or maybe they did but were trying to pretend that every city, including Skingrad, didn't have a stain that couldn't be washed clean.

Halora, though, could never forget what she saw that night. Dahlin-Dar, as a Khajiit, had all the keen senses of a cat. While he was still in training, he claimed and proved that he could pick out her distinct scent among the rest of the Guild and track her on that alone – even when she'd slipped out from said crowd. That was when she'd experienced firsthand his second and equally useful ability; his hearing With ears like his, he knew when someone coming to the hideout before anyone else and warned them if someone sounded like trouble.

That was what unnerved Halora about his murder. The killing blow came from behind, suggesting the vigilante had sneaked up on him. Her question was how he'd managed such a feat.

The sternly worded note left on Dahlin-Dar's body, stuck to him with the knife in his spine, didn't offer anything helpful in that regard. It did establish a motive, however.

"These are my people," it read, the ink smudged with blood. "Under my protection. If you wish to live out the rest of your lives, you'll cease your thievery for good."

The threat was left unsigned as if the author knew that something so minuscule as a first initial would help the Informants sniff him out. There hadn't been another murder since then, but every member in the Guild had caught him following them at some point, waiting for them to make a false move so he could strike.

Halora's stomach soured. True to his word, he'd waited for the proper justification. As long as they only skulked about in the darkness, he'd leave them be. But it didn't make the insult to both the Guild's pride and hers any more palatable.

Seeing that there wasn't a reason to linger, Halora continued towards the false shop the Thieves Guild used as a front to their operations.

Mytho, of course, wasn't there waiting for her, sideways smirk welcoming her home like he wouldn't be chased out of town if he set foot inside without her express permission. She wasn't surprised.

If she knew anything about the man it was that he was a stubborn fool in every possible way. Most thought him an egotist, but they were only partially correct in that judgment. His obsession with his dubious idea of freedom dominated his choices and it was a liability he clearly hadn't mitigated since they'd last spoken. If a course of action looked remotely as if he'd lose even the slightest degree of autonomy, he'd choose another despite being objectively worse.

Halora entered the windowless store and shut the door behind her.

Luciros, the man posing as the shopkeeper, looked up at her in that unconcerned manner that he did to everyone that came to the shop – member or not. "Welcome back, Madam Doyen," he said before turning his attention back to the newspaper in his hand. "Was it him?"

Halora sighed and put her elbows on the counter. "No, I know it wasn't. Just an old…" She bit her tongue, catching the first, more instinctual word that tried to jump out. "It was an old associate of mine slinking about."

"I see," he said. Luciros placed the page on the counter and pushed it over to her. "Forgive me, then. Not to make matters worse, ma'am, but things are indeed getting worse."

Halora took the newspaper and read the headline, grimacing as she skimmed over the text, sure that she knew what it said already. Her fingers crumpled around the page, heat growing in her chest as she found herself wanting to spit every curse she could think of.

"He's becoming a bit of a folk hero," Luciros said. "We haven't had a successful job ever since he killed Dahlin-Dar. The city is beginning to take notice of both his presence and our absence."

"I knew they would connect the dots eventually, but this soon?" Halora said. "Have we really fallen so far that they don't fear us anymore? Decades of being uncontested in the city, undone in a matter of weeks?" When Luciros shrugged, Halora gnawed on her lip until it hurt and read over the paper again.

"A New Guardian?" the newspaper read, almost as if it were written for the sake of taunting them. "Crimes at an all-time low! Thieves Guild on the defensive!"

It was disgusting. It was humiliating. The fact that the newspaper was, for once, not filled with meaningless gossip made the indignity sting twice as much. The Guild had the darkness in a stranglehold since the days of the Gray Fox, but now the shadows were betraying them, instead choosing to give their strength to a prowling beast that no one could neither name nor recognize. They were being hunted, and not just by the bumbling guardsmen as always, but by someone who made them look like simple children playing pranks and not the professionals they were.

"We'll figure something out," Luciros said as he took the newspaper back. "We've survived a near collapse in the past. This, by my comparison, is just an inconvenience."

Halora pushed off from the counter and looked around the shop. Their safety, their entire operation, depended on that place. But if the vigilante was intent on bringing them to their knees, the walls of the fake shop would soon welcome a new visitor and the hideout would get a fresh, red coat of her blood soon after. He'd find them, one way or another if things progressed. "I'm not worried about that," she said. "I'm only worried about what it will cost us to bring him down. We can't continue throwing bodies at him, hoping that by some miracle we gain the upper hand by numbers alone."

"Perhaps not," Luciros said. "But that could be because numbers mean little to someone who can tell they're little more than a show."

Halora stopped pacing around the room and eyed the boorish Imperial. "Are you suggesting that our members are not capable?"

"No," Luciros said without changing the tone of his voice. "All of us are experienced in sneaking and persuasion, skills we encourage the use of above all others, but few are in much beyond that. What we need are more people who are skilled in open combat."

Halora paced around the room again. "Besides myself," she began, "We have Ra'hur. But last I heard, he's still on that job in the Imperial City, so I have no idea when he'll return. We may as well not count him."

"Such is the way of the Guildmaster," Luciros said.

"There are a few talented Prowlers," she said. "I'd rather not send them against a threat this large, though. And the lower ranking thieves may not be able to do much."

"I agree," Luciros said, his voice low. "However, sending you against the vigilante alone would be a grave mistake. Not to doubt your prowess, Madam, but if the Guild lost you, then we need not worry about any killers bringing our operation to a halt. We'd simply collapse without your guidance."

Halora ran her fingers through her hair and scratched her aching head. "Nonsense," she said, "You'd find a way, wouldn't you?"

Luciros made a face that wasn't quite disgruntled but was less plain than usual. "I like to imagine I would, ma'am," he said. "But I shudder at the thought of finding out my imagination poorly reflects reality. And between you and I, the idea of Ra'hur having full authority over the Guild is even less desirable."

Halora exhaled to mask the chill trying to make her body tremble. "You'd best keep thoughts like those to yourself," she said. "For your own good. Most of the elder members are still sore from that last time someone took issue with the Guildmaster."

Luciros was preparing to say something, but he shut his mouth again and nodded towards the door. "Someone's coming this way," he said in a hushed tone. "Door's still unlocked."

Halora unsheathed the dagger hanging around her waist and stood next to the doorway, hidden by the shadows. "Remind me to thank you for those magic traps you set on the road outside," she said, gripping the handle of her knife tight.

The door swung open, filling the room with the sound of chattering people and blinding white light. Halora swept out from the darkness, dagger ready to plunge into the visitor's throat if they made a move.

Mytho, with barely a glance, caught her by the wrist and chuckled as the door shut itself behind him. "That's surprising," he said. "I think I prefer to be greeted this way as opposed to chasing you. It comes to an end quicker and I don't have to get so sweaty."

Halora pulled away and shoved her dagger back into its sheath. "Then we're both surprised," she said. "I figured the next time I heard of you, it'd be because you either cut down half the guards to get your man or got ran through by one of them."

"And you would've been correct," Mytho said as he leaned against the counter as if he were a regular visitor. "If you hadn't scurried away looking so forlorn about this vigilante character. I thought I would pop in and see how I could lend my aid, at the very least."

"I think we…" Halora began before shutting her flapping mouth. A few moments before, she was just shy of asking Nocturnal for her blessing. It'd be rude to turn away such a blessing if it was indeed wrapped in a bothersome package like the man sizing up Luciros. "Could use your help," she said, growling under her breath.

"Hold on," Mytho said. "I want to make myself clear, first. I'm not abandoning my own job to solve your troubles. If and when I have the information I need, I'm leaving the city immediately. Dead vigilante or not." Mytho swiped a pear from one of the boxes and bit into it. "Deal?" he said with a full mouth and juice running down his chin.

As expected, he was trying to act like he was in control of the situation enough to be relaxed. Halora took the pear and tossed it into the bin. "The way I see it," she said, "You need my help if you want your lead. You admitted it yourself; you're not worried about finding your man, you're worried about escaping. You need either a better plan or more bodies to move. Probably both."

"Excellent. Then we've reached an understanding," he said, unfazed as he marched towards the stairwell that led the second floor of the shop. "Let's not tarry and get to work."

Halora glared at Luciros, swearing she heard the smallest laugh escape him. He shrugged at her and went back to his masquerade as a humble shopkeeper. She let out a huff and chased after Mytho before he could go too far unattended.

"That's a chipper man you've got out front," Mytho said as they started up the creaky stairs. "He seems rather experienced at being dull. Did you suck the life out of him as well?"

Right back to the sarcasm. "I only do that to the people that need it," Halora said. "Like self-absorbed duelists with a paralyzing fear of commitment."

"Huh. So what does it mean when you toss flowerpots at someone?"

"Oh, stop it," she swatted at his back. "It didn't even scratch you. I'd have hit my mark if I wanted."

Mytho stepped onto the second floor and turned around the corner, humming a tune. "Is it truly the best that we meet in the hideout?" he asked. "We could do our naughty scheming elsewhere. Perhaps over dinner?"

Halora humored him with a false laugh. "A good effort," she said. "But, no. Besides, it ought to be empty at this time of day. Everyone left to work this morning."

"Like the good little drones they are," Mytho said in a lilting tone.

They entered the upstairs room. In every way, it appeared to be a bedroom meant for guests, but it had gone unused since the building was constructed. Mytho put his ear to the wall and knocked his fist against it. He stepped back and put his hands on his swords, looking up and down with a furrowed brow.

"We don't take the panel off anymore," Halora said and pointed. "You see that sconce there?"

Mytho spun around and looked at where her she was pointing.

"There's a button underneath it. The whole thing comes off."

After he removed the sconce, Mytho looked over at her, smiled wide and jabbed his thumb against the button triumphantly.

The wooden panel rattled and slid to the side, revealing a hidden passageway leading downwards, much further below the shop despite the entrance being above. It was deceptive, and not what most would expect, precisely the reason she had it done that way.

Mytho bounded into the darkness, letting out an enthused whoop as he disappeared from her view.

"It's just a damned tunnel," she called out, hearing her voice echo down the passage. "Don't get so excited."

"It's a hidden one!" Mytho shouted back. "Much more exciting than a damned one!"

What have I done? Halora thought as she followed him deeper into the earth, the air around them growing moist and cold as they went further away from the warmth of the sun above. As they went deeper, she whispered a silent prayer that the Guild was indeed empty like as she said. If not, she'd spend the next few days explaining to each one of her guildmates why she'd brought him back into the hideout.

The leather of her boots squeaked against the shined floor and she looked down to see her reflection staring back up at her. The sight was something Halora took pride in. To her, it made no sense for their home to be as dirty as their deeds.

Mytho strutted across the sanctum, leaving a trail of soot on the ground as he made his way to the round sitting area in the middle. "Nice place you've got," Mytho said as he dropped into the sunken-in sitting area. He sat on the circular seat and put his feet up on the table in the middle. "Last time I was here, you were still lighting the place with wall torches and not chandeliers. And this chair doesn't hurt my arse like that last one did."

Halora dropped into the seat next to him, wincing as she imagined the stains he'd be leaving behind. "You can admire my designing later," she said. "We've both things to worry about and it would be best to conduct business first."

"Then pleasure?"

Halora jabbed her finger against his chest and looked him dead in the eyes. "Don't push it."

He lowered his chin and laughed. "Have it your way, then," he said. "I thought about something on the way over here, anyway. A method of dealing with your faceless murderer."

"Oh?"

He nodded. "Aye. Let me ask you something. Have you been sending your underlings alone at night, or in groups?"

Halora shook her head and motioned to the map of Skingrad pinned to the surface of the table. "Have you seen the size of the city? We'd never accomplish anything if we paired up for each job. It's inefficient. Everyone is responsible for themselves and only themselves, just as it's always been."

Mytho wagged a finger. "And when they run into the vigilante?" he asked, a smirk spreading across his dirty face. "What do they do then?"

"I've ordered them to come back to the hideout," she said. "I care about filling our purses until they're fit to burst, but no amount of coin is worth their lives to me."

"Have you thought of sending everyone out at once?" he asked.

Halora put her hands on the table. "Of course I haven't," she said. "Not only would the castle guard catch on that a large-scale operation is taking place, which would cause them to put the city on lockdown, but that would also leave the Guild unattended. There's no telling what could happen while we're gone. We might come back to find our coffers emptied."

Mytho pointed his finger at the red mark where Dahlin-Dar's body had been found. "And the sightings after this one here? Have there been more than one at a time?"

"No," she said. "What's your point?"

Mytho sat forward and drummed his hands on the table. "He's one man, Hallie," he said. "Meaning, he can only be in one place at a time. If you had enough people, we could wait for him to pop up then have the whole force converge on him at once."

Halora sighed and stood up. "Luciros already thought of that," she said. "Outnumbering him doesn't matter when he can kill most of the Guild's members without trying. And did you miss the part about the guards? They'll even the numbers back out in the end. Whatever your scheme is, it's idiotic."

Mytho strode around in her way. "Ah, but what if they had a bigger target to pursue? One that'd prevent them from worrying about your Guild's little caper?"

Halora looked him over. "You mean yourself?"

He turned his nose up and puffed out his chest. "Naturally," Mytho said. "Even the Thalmor want my head nowadays. Skingrad would fall over itself to make a big show of lopping it off. I could stir up a ruckus at the castle after I find Ilawe, announce myself in a big way to distract the guards, and you and your cohorts could use that opportunity to deal with your assassin."

Halora shoved him aside. "Don't patronize me," she said. "I know this is just so you can live out your childish fantasies about being the new Gray Fox."

He swirled around her again, moving like a shroud of black that followed her closer than her own reflection. "Aye, but then we'd both get what we want," he said. "You can enact your bloodless revenge on him without interruption and I can get the satisfaction of knowing I'm wanted."

Halora crossed her arms and glared up at his obnoxious, smirking face. "It won't be bloodless," she hissed. "Whoever he descends on first will be as good as dead before the rest of us can reach them. And I will not sacrifice a single person."

Mytho's face twitched for a moment, his smirk wilting, but it bloomed again as if nothing had happened. "Then as I said; send them in pairs. Tell them to be on the defensive and avoid engaging him directly. If possible, lead him in circles to buy time."

Halora tightened her lips, grimly intrigued at his plan. It was just his style – chaotic and without shame – but she'd not deny it was effective. Along with being stupid, pretentious and remarkably grating to her. "One problem, though," she said, "With the Guildmaster still away on business, we have an odd number. One of us will have to go alone."

"Aye, you would. Unless you recruit Toren," Mytho said. "That'll balance them out."

Halora hesitated for a moment, hoping that it was a cruel joke. "Recruit the poor boy and send him out to die?" she asked. "I don't know if he even knows how to hold a blade correctly, let alone has the stones to stand and fight! You can't be serious!"

Mytho's face hardened, but he said nothing.

Halora shook her head and brushed past him. Her own warped reflection on the ground stared back at her, his a pitch black shadow looming over her. Trying to cover her. "I guess I shouldn't expect anything more from you," she muttered. "Everyone is disposable to you. Just another pawn in this big game you've been playing."

Halora walked away - permitted by him at last as he stood immobile - the padding of her footsteps almost inaudible between them. Her hand twitched as she found the urge to slap him growing, overwhelming her. Foul words buried deep inside for too long crawled to the surface, full of life and hot enough to sting the back of her throat. He deserved every damn one of them. More than that.

"I've never thought of you as a pawn," Mytho said just before she was able to reach the passageway. "Not even once."

Halora stopped and looked over her shoulder at him. His words didn't make her angrier as she expected – as she wanted them to – but there was something about them that reached into her and battered her heart in a way that left her exhausted. It always did. "That's what you've always told me," she said, feeling as if the sentence took her breath away. "And you told her that, too."