Chapter 14

Third

"Do they know?"

"Who about what?"

"You know what I mean."

"About the Three Saplings? Probably not. I doubt Noir told them everything."

"They will have to know eventually. Otherwise, it's unfair to them. What we're doing. Tell me . . . why did you tell me everything, whereas they barely know a thing?"

"You know about the Trials. How one makes of a situation, of a relationship. Testing to see how they fare from different soils and different amounts of water and light."

"'Let us feed the Saplings with water and light' . . . Gimme a break."

"Look at you, you are nothing but a blooming example. You know almost everything about Noir, and for some reason, you are willing to soak yourself into the darkness, whereas they are not."

"It's cruel."

"But you do as the Soldats asks, what I ask anyway. Why question it for those two but not for yourself?"

Snort. "I guess that's the curse of the Third."

"You may not like to admit it, but you have ego. It's all you have. You have nothing else to lose, so you thought, Why not?"

"Speaking of Thirds . . . why me? Why did you save me?"

"I suppose fate. I wasn't planning on it, nor our lord. This tends to happen in the Trials. Look at you. You are just as new as the other two, but you are ripe! Your aim could use improvement, but . . . we did not expect you to exceed at this rate—."

"I almost killed them."

Pause. "I am surprised you have not attempted to kill me for that."

Glare. "You're right . . ." A snarl of frustration. "Ugh, I dunno. I mean, I didn't know them that well. I didn't know her, but still . . . thank god for my awful aim because I . . . could have killed her."

Mocking. "I taught you well."

"That's not funny! I couldn't recognize her from afar, she looked so different—I didn't think others had survived, let alone get dragged to the Cantabrians, into this! Why didn't you tell me they had survived?"

"You know why. The Trials."

"It's repulsive!"

Shrug. "If that is the case, why not kill me and everyone else? Why do still stand, here, as I groom you? Because you cannot do anything about what's passed."

"That doesn't get you off the hook for lying to me about survivors, and then about who my targets were. Alright?"

"You awfully sweet for a girl of your deadly skill."

Dark brooding, but a tentative sigh. "I guess I should be grateful. You did save me."

"I didn't have to . . ."

"I get it. In any case, when will I be able to reveal myself to them?"

"You know when people say, 'When the time comes, you'll know'?"

"Yeah?"

Smile. "Guess what I am about to say."

Sigh. "When the time comes. I know."

….

It was unsettling to be surrounded by Soldats; standing by the door, by the barn, by the pond, by the dirt trail. Hovering over Riki and company. Silent, impassive faces. Shades and black suits; so much black.

Mireille hated every moment of it, as much as Riki did. She could see it on the high schooler's face as the doctor questioned her, checking her head.

"Any headaches?" asked the doctor.

"I got my head rammed against rock, so . . . yeah," said Riki rather sardonically.

"Dizziness?"

"Rock."

He seemed entertained. "Feel tired? Sensitivity to noise or light?"

"Me? Tired? After a battle with your angel of death you guys sent?"

The doctor chuckled, his voice warm. "Hey, I'm just the doctor."

"A Soldat," growled Mireille.

"With a name," replied the doctor with a tip of his head. "You can call me Stefan. And I will call you Mireille and Kirika and Riki and Audriane." He returned to his examination on Riki. "So, your emotional mood? Any irritability, nervousness, anxiety—?"

"I think he just playing with you," said Audriane, budging an awkward smile; she didn't know what reaction she'd get from Riki.

Riki folded her arms. "Yeah. I know."

Stefan grinned. "Ah, so you got me. Noir wins, Soldats lose."

"Get out," blurted Mireille. They were positive if she was forced to repeat that for the third time, she would have thrown a chair at him or shoot him out the door.

Ignoring the glares in the room, Stefan packed his things and headed out. All his men in suits followed sharply, broad, but stiff, as if expecting Noir to jump them.

Kirika walked up to Stefan, blocking his exit. "Is she ok?"

"Yes," he said. "Just a slight concussion. No internal bleeding or brain clogs from the blow. Keep a close eye on her." Stefan paused, looking Kirika up and down with fascination. "So this is Noir . . ."

Kirika glared. "Please, not in front of the children."

Stefan's joking smile faded. He looked at the teenagers, then back at Kirika, and frowned. "Do they not realize when we say 'Noir', we refer to you —?"

"KIRIKA," called Mireille from the doorway. "Stay away from that Soldat."

"Ah, got me again!" said Stefan, pretending to make a break for it. He stopped and turned away, smiling at Kirika, who looked at him strangely.

He was in the middle of giving a short wave, when he stopped himself. "Oh, almost forgot. Give her the letter."

One of his guards approached Kirika and handed her over a white envelope with the Soldats' seal wax of the Maidens. The moment he handed it to her, Mireille was by Kirika's side. Interestingly, the guard backed away nervously. Both women watched him, forgetting that they were the Noir. Technically, they still were. Mireille grinned to herself, then glared at the rest of the bodyguards. They shifted on their feet but didn't stir until Stefan led them out.

…

"Instead of Shirihime, Stefan shows up," marveled Audriane.

"Shoot me if I see her again," said Riki, kicking her feet in the water.

Audriane looked at her incredulously. "Your concussion—you ok?"

"Just the usual symptoms of PISSED OFF," said Riki. "Are those two done with that letter yet?"

Audriane looked over their shoulders at Mireille and Kirika by the Etxarren entrance, hovering over Stefan's letter. She shrugged.

Riki threw a rock into the lake. "I've got some Q&A's when they're finished with that."

"Now I think about it," said Audriane, "they act strange when they asked if we knew The Woman in the Dark."

Riki laughed. "Woman in the Dark—how poetic. How about 'The Nocturnal' or something? Sounds more . . . shady—oh wait, that's Shirihime's honorary title."

"But they asked if we knew this 'Nocturnal', like we should know, you know?" said Audriane. She paused for a response, but Riki just shrugged.

Audriane couldn't help but dwell on the moment Riki paused during her argument with Mireille in the monastery. She had nearly forgotten about it, until right now with Riki wearing that same expression. She couldn't tell if it was epiphany or confusion, but was determined to get answers. If they were to "work this out", they needed to improve their communication, if not trust, in each other, at least of all people.

"Riki," murmured Audriane. "What is it?"

Her partner looked at her as if shocked she read her. "What?"

"Don't play dumb. My Japanese and English ok. I read and hear it better than speak it—but looking and reading a person's face, anyone can do."

Hesitation.

Audriane glared. "Riki. Trust me. Please."

Riki sighed. "It's notthat I don't. I just don't know if I'm sure . . . if I want to believe." When Audriane said nothing, Riki took that as a sign to continue. "Think about it. Remember when you shouted my name before our attacker struck me? And the way Bakar described her? Audriane, do you think our attacker was . . . Sakuya?"

At first, Audriane didn't recognize the name, for it's been a while. Then, she remembered. "What? Sakuya Takagi? Not possible!"

"I don't know why I think that," said Riki. "But thinking back when I was this close to looking her in the eyes . . . it looked like her! Her hair wasn't waves and curls, and she was tanner, but really, I think it was her . . .!"

Audriane's voice rose slightly. "No! But . . ." Her voice dropped to whisper for a second, as if to herself: " I saw her dying—no, if it is, why would she want to kill us? Kill anyone?"

Riki didn't seem to hear her. "If it's Sakuya, if by weird, crazy chance she's been roped into this and ordered around by the Soldats—maybe she could tell us everything! She can explain to us what's going on! She won't hesitate, she'll—!"

"She tried to kill us, Riki," said Audriane. "No point talking to someone with such intentions! She obeyed orders to hunt someone and kill, without remorse, without hesitation. No . . . no! I not want to talk to someone like that!"

"I don't think she recognized us," whispered Riki.

"Huh?"

"I think, like Mireille and Kirika, she was obeying shadows. She's left in the dark like the rest of us—she can help us!"

"Riki . . ." Audriane shook her head, eyes trembling with doubt. "It not been her. Who obeys to kill, like that?"

"It's no different from what we're about to do," whispered Riki. "I know we're gonna eventually have to do more killing, just like she had to. Now the question is, why she was separated from us in her training—?"

"Riki. It not her. I saw her . . . at the massacre."

"You . . . wait, what do you mean?"

"There was a hole in her chest. She was gasping for air. She was bleeding. Lots and lots." Audriane held her breath, reliving it all. She watched Riki's reaction, and decided to push it a little. "I saw her dying, Riki."

Riki was wide-eyed. "Why didn't you DO something to save her—?"

"Like what?" burst Audriane. "I just a kid, in high school! So are you! I didn't know anything, how to react to that! I was running for my LIFE!"

She stood up, heat swelling in her chest, like a plague in her body. She couldn't believe it. There it was again, that look in Riki's eyes—that feeling Audriane felt resonating from her at every mention of Sakuya, a random classmate, a stranger, a girl who she saw dying on a corpse-strewn cafeteria floor slippery with blood. This girl was the same irrational reason that nearly drove Riki to go back into the school while the massacre was still going. The same reason that endangered them all when they tried fleeing all those men. There was something strange, uncomfortable, mysterious, and nonsensical about Sakuya altogether.

Audriane saw something she's never seen in Riki's eyes, a glow that wouldn't shine for anyone else but this Sakuya. And she knew for a fact in just her couple of weeks at a new school, that Riki and Sakuya had never been friends who hung out on a daily basis.

"You . . . did you like Sakuya?" whispered Audriane, slowly, as if the subtle word was allowing a foreign parasite to creep into her system.

Riki's eyes were glazed over, then she slowly remembered Audriane was there next to her. It was an expression that further pushed Audriane over the edge, dumbfounded: after all this, after everything they've been through, Riki had been thinking of Sakuya.

No. This Sakuya was going to mess things up—their trust with Mireille and Kirika, and their partnership. If it was Sakuya, then it was clear that she was hellbent on killing them, on some other Soldats faction's orders, enemies of Sir Asher, of Shirihime—who, in turn, all three, were enemies of Noir. Enemies of Riki and Audriane.

As this processed in Audriane's mind, Riki, meanwhile, looked at her as if Audriane spoke an ugly truth that no one wanted to say. The elephant in the room—in Riki's gut, in her heart . . . it was finally inflating, forcing itself out. Or was it not an elephant, but something else? What was this random, crazy overload of devotion?

Audriane looked at Riki, for the first time in a different light. She felt a tinge of revolt—she felt like she should—but she wasn't sure what to feel just yet, either.

She was about to say something when Mireille called them over. "So, you wanna hear that bedtime story or what?"

….

Mireille started without wasting time. "A couple of things. For one, that the letter was from Sir Asher. As vulgar as this sounds, he congratulates us for surviving another Trial—not just that of Riki and Audriane surviving on their own in the wilderness, but of Kirika and I fighting and fleeing Asher's men, and then taking on your attacker. In due time, he expects us to take up 'assignments', 'commissions', or 'contracts', call it what you may. It could happen three days from now—hell, even today."

That last part was obviously a joke, but Riki and Audriane's grimace discouraged Mireille from more attempts.

"In other words," said Mireille, "he orders us to be ready for such tasks. Stick to it, stay with us, and you'll survive—."

"And when we do, when we succeed, what happens to you?" blurted Audriane.

"You won't see us again. The good kind," said Mireille, smiling triumphantly.

"Keep going," urged Riki.

"Second," said Mireille, "that you should, you deserve to, know more about the Soldats."

"About fucking time," said Riki.

"You've got quite a mouth on you, freshman," said Mireille.

The children leaned forward on their beds.

"Mireille," said Kirika.

"Anyway. It's going to take time to explain all of it to you. It'll be a lot to take in. But in the meantime, shall we attempt?" Oxygen seemed to catch in Mireille's chest; she exhaled. "The Soldats. In their vast entirety, they were a group of people a thousand years ago who survived a bloody war. Many lives were lost, many atrocities witnessed. A group called Les Soldats formed—sworn to protect the weak and take revenge against the world. They became the very shadow that dominated Europe for centuries. They took place in every social part of humanity. For example, they witnessed the birth of certain mafias, like the Cosa Nova, which was created two-hundred-years ago. That means the Soldats are much older than Cosa Nova. Anyway, over the centuries, the Soldats have been consumed by the very greed they swore to undo."

"Sounds like a cautionary tale," scoffed Riki.

"A bedtime story," added Audriane.

"The underworld business isn't something petty to make fun of lightly," said Mireille, raising her eyebrows. "Add it to what you learned in History class."

"Hence, the factions?" asked Audriane, pressing them on.

Kirika nodded. "Yes. They fight over Noir, for control of Noir . . . who should become Noir."

"I feel wanted and loved," said Riki with a flat expression. "Ok, ok, but in all seriousness. So . . . it is a mafia kind of thing, for the sake of comparing . . . right? Groups fighting over territory, only this time, more like who gets the best hitman, the best police dog, the best weapon?"

"Sure, if that's how you can comprehend it," snorted Mireille.

"And there were Noir's before us?"

Mireille hesitated, but only for a second before Riki caught it. "Yes. The pro's about the title of Noir is that you strike fear in the hearts of many. They think you're the same angel of death, this centuries-old guy that refuses to die. Sort of speak. Think of it like this—those suited men that were with Stefan were afraid of you."

"Really?" asked Audriane.

"Yeah," said Riki, thinking, "I kinda remember them looking like they were on edge. Which is funny, cuz I was on edge."

"Which is why they were on edge. Too bad they weren't like that at the massacre," began Mireille, when Kirika glared at her. She cleared her throat, shrugging. "This is why you should look at the bright side of things. Doesn't matter how old you are or what sex. There used to be Noir's younger than you running around as the grim reaper."

"Really? That's creepy. Horror movies were enough for me, all those children with their dolls," said Riki, wiggling her fingers as though they were spiders.

"You could walk into a room full of thugs and their syndicate lord, and if you told them you were Noir, they'd be shaking," said Mireille. "Well, don't do that, walking in just like that. It's stupid."

Kirika frowned at Mireille, then looked at the children, hoping they weren't finding this fun. "Also," she announced, "most still believe it's the name for one person. That was back in the times of the Soldats of Old. With the Soldats of New, established recently, however . . . they started something to alter old traditions. The Trials . . . of the Three Saplings."

The students perked up at the sound of that, while Kirika fished for something in her pocket. "We found this from your battle with that woman," she said.

She pulled out a knife.

"These particular blades have been seen before in the Trials of Noir," said Kirika, her finger gently tracing the skinny T-shaped silver. "First, here, with you two. And from the last known Third Sapling."

Audriane burst. "Third Sapling! I knew it, I knew it related to Noir, with the number three!"

Kirika nodded solemnly, while Mireille discerned Audriane's excitement.

"So," said Mireille, "you know about the Trials, the Soldats' desire to control and choose Noir, the very pair originally created to protect the innocent. I'm assuming you can put two and two together."

"We're not the only chosen ones?" guessed Audriane, slowly.

"'Chosen ones'," chuckled Mireille to herself.

Kirika answered. "Correct. There is yet a Third Sapling. You two are the First and the Second Saplings."

"That's why you asked if we . . . knew that woman sent after us!" gasped Audriane. She shot a look at Riki, as if expecting this to be the moment for her partner to confess about Sakuya.

Noir shot a glance at Riki, whose jaw dropped. She shook her head and snapped, "Wait? Candidates? Chosen to become Noir? I don't understand. I know my vocabulary isn't kick-ass, but if the definition of 'candidates' is what I think it is, then that means . . . we're not Noir? Not yet? This training isn't because we are but because we could be? And that chance is sliced by the Third Sapling?"

"Yes," said Mireille, sensing their increasing grasp of things. She hardened her tone. "Listen well. We're training you to survive because the Third Sapling is part of the Trials. She or he could stop you."

"Survive?" said Riki. "That sounds like it entails . . . we survive each other." The color melted from Riki's face; she turned pallid. "We have to kill each other?"

Kirika's gaze dropped to the ground. The guilt was nauseating. "Yes. It was each Sapling for herself. Take down at least one other Sapling, and you're Noir with the surviving candidate. Right now, you two were fortunate to be picked from the massacre, side-by-side, so you don't have to worry about Riki killing Audriane or Audriane killing Riki. You trust each other more than anyone else in this room, in the world. I hope."

"For now, you just have to worry about the Third Sapling," said Mireille. "Which is why it was important for us to ask you if you knew the woman who attacked you. Because she was most likely—no, definitely—the Third Sapling."

The girls looked at each other in horror.

Riki, tell them! thought Audriane.

If they know it's Sakuya, they'll shoot her on sight, thought Riki.

"It has become a noticed pattern," announced Kirika, "that the Third Sapling has been raised differently and separately from the First and Second. You can tell by the way she carries herself, the way she is dressed, the traditional choice of weapons, such as this blade . . ."

They could tell by the way Kirika paused dramatically, that the last sentence was not going to Band-Aid the already-bad news they've heard.

"And it's also become a noticed pattern," finalized Kirika, "that at one point or another, tides change between all Three Saplings."