"She did this," I spat vehemently between choked sobs.

Connor frowned at me, having no idea about what I was speaking. His hand rested gently on my shoulder in a vain effort to provide comfort. Even knowing as I did how supportive he was trying to be gave me no solace. I was far too angry to be consoled right now. There was nothing anyone could do to ease the pain I was feeling. I had just buried my little girl. My only reason for living was housed in a pine box six feet underground a few yards from where I sat crying on my living room floor. I had felt nothing but sorrowful rage ever since Connor had pulled her lifeless body from the river four days ago.

I lifted the bottle of whiskey to my lips and took a large gulp of the foul liquid. I hated liquor. Drinking had never been something I enjoyed doing. I only drank now in a futile attempt to forget my despair. Connor only watched me as I grimace from the burning in my throat. He had said nothing when I had gotten out the bottle of alcohol from the locked cabinet where it had been stored for the last four years. It had been a gift from Norris and Mariam. I had only ever used it to make cough syrup for Achilles when he had been sick last winter. The mostly full bottle was now almost empty.

"That stupid…woman is just trying to punish me for interfering with her plan." I only said woman because I didn't want to use the vulgar word I had in mind in front of my husband. It wasn't as if he had never heard me curse before. He had. Many times. But he had never heard me use a term that obscene.

Connor's frown became more pronounced at my ranting. I'm not sure if he thought I was drunk or insane from grief. Either way, he spoke as if he understood exactly what I was talking about. "No one is punishing you for anything, Faith," he told me. "Abby's passing was a tragic accident. There is nothing anyone could have done to change that."

I scoffed in disagreement. "Who knows what that spirit is capable of."

The confusion of Connor's face turned to mild surprise at my words. As I lifted the bottle to my lips for another drink, he took it from my hands and placed it behind him, out of my reach. "What spirit?" he asked.

The realization that I hadn't told my husband about my chat with the fake goddess sobered me. I was in no mood to explain the ordeal to him now, but my slip of the tongue made denial impossible. I quickly gave him a watered-down account of what had happened when we had visited his village that summer. I had thought my secret keeping might anger him, but Connor only looked intrigued by the revelation. He watched me in silence for a long time.

"What did she say to you?"

I let out an exasperated breath. This was the exact conversation I had been hoping to avoid. I didn't want to recall my conversation with that uppity lady. I wanted to forget it. I wanted to forget her. Connor, however, was insistent on knowing the details. He repeated the question to me when I didn't answer fast enough.

"Something about a key and my time almost being up," I related impatiently. "She told me I failed."

Connor expression grew more contemplative at my words. His eyes focused on something that wasn't there as the fingers of his right hand fiddled with the handle of his tomahawk thoughtfully. "She spoke to me of a key as well," he mused aloud. I wasn't sure if he was talking to me or himself. I elected to keep quiet.

After a time, Connor redirected his gaze back to me. His countenance was indiscernible, an odd combination of uncertainty and doubt were present. The room was outstandingly silent as he stared at me for a long moment. "When you are sober enough to ride, come find me."

With that Connor stood up. He turned to go, pausing only long enough to pick up the bottle of whisky before leaving. I continued to sat on the floor after the front door closed. I had no idea why Connor wanted me to leave at such a late hour. It wasn't long until sunset and he had always cautioned against nighttime travel. I surmised that where he wanted to go either wasn't far or couldn't wait until morning. Though I wasn't keen on leaving the comforts of home, the constant reminders of the baby I had lost everywhere made me even more loath to stay.

I stood up, taking a moment to steady myself as the world swam before my eyes. When I was confident enough to walk, I made my way outside. The evening sky was a shade of pale coral I would have found beautiful at any other time. With what I was feeling right now, all loveliness was lost on me. I found happiness in nothing. I made my way to the stables, walking slower than usual. Even though I was no longer fall-down drunk, my balance was still a bit precarious. I thought that once I got on a horse I would be fine.

Connor was saddling Akoshá:tens when I approached. She neighed politely when she saw me. I gave her a quick scratch behind her ears that only made the animal more wanting for attention. Feeling no inclination to dole out affection, I stepped away from her and watched my husband.

"Do you want to ride together or alone?" he asked.

I told him that I wanted to ride with him. He mounted the horse and held out a hand to me. I climbed on behind him. The situation brought back unbidden memories of the first time we had rode together. I was more comfortable now that I had been then but feeling of holding on to Connor was the same. The uncertainty of putting my arms around him should not have been present after all we had been through. Yet, my disdain for everything made me cautious to show even the slightest bit of fondness for the man I was married to. It wasn't that I didn't love him, it was that I couldn't express my feelings for him at present.

I didn't really pay much attention to where we were going until we passed the boundary marking the edge of the property. I frowned as Connor urged the horse forward, into the wilderness of the frontier. I was still mostly unconcerned with our destination.

I rested my forehead against the nape of Connor's neck and breathed in his unique scent. A lifetime's worth of memories flooded my head. Some of them were good. Others not so good. I didn't really want to deal with any of the recollections, so I closed my eyes and cleared my mind.

When I opened my eyes, the scenery had changed from the familiar woods to which I was accustomed to foreign territory I couldn't place. My neck was stiff as I glanced around indicating that I had been in the same position for some time. I was unsure if I had simply dozed off or passed out. Which ever it was, it had left me feeling no better than I had previously.

"Where are we?" I asked, my voice hoarse from disuse.

"Not far from Kanatahseton," Connor answered.

I frowned at that. I hadn't thought I was out for that long. As I looked at the sky, I could see the beginnings of light on the eastern horizon. I arched my back, trying to work out the soreness I had gained from sleeping on the back of a horse. Connor tugged the reigns, slowing Akoshá:tens long enough for me to release him so that I could stretch. When I put my arms around his waist once again, he increased the speed double what it had been. I guessed he had only been going so slow for my sake. The thought flattered me. I was reminded of what a considerate person he was.

"Why didn't you tell me we were going to your village?" I wondered out loud.

"We are not."

Unsure what to make of that, I shrugged to myself and watched the scenery pass by. The air was already warm, even without the presence of the sun. The day would likely be a hot one. I wasn't prepared for the August weather, but that hardly mattered to Mother Nature. She did as she wanted, uncaring of how the mortals inhabiting her planet felt. I hated her for that. Just as I hated everything right now.

Neither I nor Connor spoke for the remainder of the ride. I didn't ask where we were going, and he didn't offer that information. It wasn't exactly a comfortable silence. But it was a consensual one. We had no desire for conversation. I wondered what that said about us as a couple. Being able to go such lengths without saying a word to each other either meant we had a perfect marriage or an extremely unhealthy one. I really hoped it was the former.

Connor stopped Akoshá:tens near the base of a large rock formation atop a hill. I looked around, seeing nothing of interest nearby. I thought he might just need to take a leak. That idea was dispelled as he announced that we had arrived at our destination. Dismounting the horse, Connor stood with his back to me, staring out over the land with a crease in his brow. I got off the horse and went to stand next to him.

"What are we doing here?"

Without looking at me, Connor gestured to ground on which we stood. "This is where I found you."

It took me a moment to fully comprehend what he was saying. When I understood, I began to examine the area more closely. I looked for anything that might be familiar to me, but nothing stood out. If I had been to this place before, I had no memory of it. I paced slowly, trying desperately to piece together parts of a puzzle that had no picture. If I had been here when Connor found me in this time, I must have been here in my own time as well. That was the only explanation that made any sort of sense to me. But why I had been in this particular place was a mystery to me. Nothing here rang any bells in my mind. I felt as though I were seeing it all for the first time.

After a long time of trying to come to some conclusion, I looked at Connor. He was watching me intently, as if he expected me to have some sort of revelation. I shook my head, unsure of what he wanted from me.

"There is something else I want to show you," he said at length.

Connor led me a few feet away. I noticed an inlet within the rocks indicating a passage of some kind. He began to enter, navigating the uneven terrain with ease. I followed carefully, not nearly as confident in my steps as he was. We walked until the passage opened into a large cave. Native drawings covered the far wall. I studied them with a fascination born of familiarity. This place I had seen before, many times, in my dreams.

"What is this?" I asked Connor.

His reply was a distant shrug accompanied with a vague explanation. "This ground is sacred. It is the duty of my people to protect it. Outsiders are not welcomed here."

"And you found me right outside this cave," I mused aloud. The serendipity of that was not lost on me. That each of us had ties to such a place held cosmic meaning. It wasn't by mere chance that we had come to meet. Our encounter had been planned by an unknown power.

The spirit's comment that I was nothing more than a distraction held some began to take meaning with me. I understood now why she had said that. But I wondered about who could have orchestrated such a profound and impossible feat. It had to have been a being with the authority to manipulate time. Not putting my faith in any sort of god made all of this even more outlandish to me. I had no clue what was going on, and it angered me. I was not a pawn to be manipulated by a higher power. Especially one I didn't believe in.

I looked at my husband, wondering how much of our lives had played out according to someone's twisted design. I could tell by Connor's expression that his thoughts were akin to mine. The coincidences were too profound to be ignored. We were being played. All of what had transpired had done so because some unknown being willed it. Even my daughter.

The idea that Abby had been nothing more than a ploy in a metaphysical war filled me with rage. I wanted my child's life to mean more than that. Her existence had been a blessing. Not only to me, but to everyone she met. I couldn't think of her as anything less. I refused to.

Looking into my husband's eyes I saw the embers of a similar fury. Both of us being as stubborn as we were gave us the desire to prove whatever deity that thought they were in charge wrong. We were more than pieces on a gameboard. Fate did not define us. Our lives were what we made them.

"Ratonhnhake:ton." I saw his mouth twitch in satisfaction as I used his birthname. "I changed my mind."

The crease on his brow was enough to let me know he need clarification. The flicker of insecurity on his features at my words gave me the impression he thought I was doubting our marriage. I closed the distance between us, taking his hand in mine to reassure him that my resolve on that decision had not wavered.

"I want you to teach me to be an Assassin," I told him.

A mixture of many emotions played at his features as he processed this. After a long moment of contemplation, he met my gaze. He inclined his head in a curt nod.