"Faith?"

I snapped back to reality, focusing on Connor as he watched me with an expression of mild concern. I realized that the deer in the frying pan I was standing over was beginning sizzle loudly. I quickly turned it, relieved that it wasn't burned from lack of attention. I had been so lost in thought I had forgotten that I was in the middle of cooking supper.

I felt Connor put his hand on my shoulder and glanced at him. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said with a nod. "I'm just..."

Without knowing quite what to say, I let the sentenced fade into silence. I had been plagued with distracting visions since our trip to Kanatahseton – since my visit with the spirit. I hadn't told Connor about that incident. It was something I felt like he didn't need to know. Something I would rather forget.

But, try as I might, I couldn't get the strange woman's words out of my head. They repeated over and over, like a scratched CD in a cheap player. Her comment about what little time I had left scared me beyond reason. I had tried to rationalize her words. I made the excuse that, to a being like her, time was a different concept. A lifetime was only a drop in the bucket compared to a century. Her version of little could very well be a lot to a mortal like me. I could have decades left to live and she would see it as nothing more than the lifespan of an ant, inconsequential and unmemorable. I tried to let that comfort me, to not worry about the self-righteous ramblings of someone who didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. But it was difficult.

I looked at my husband, forcing a smile for his sake. He grinned at me in return. I could tell it was fake. That was the norm these days. We both pretended we weren't bothered by the secrets we kept from the other.

I went back to cooking as Connor went into the living room and began to play with Abby. I could hear her giggling as he tickled her. It was the most wonderful sound I had ever heard.

"How long are you gonna be home this time?" I asked Connor while we were eating.

He didn't look at me, but concentrated instead on the little girl seated on his lap. I hoped he wouldn't get irritated at the way I had phrased the question. The addition of the last two words was a reminder of how much he'd been gone this fall. It was never for very long. Sometime only a few days, sometimes a few weeks. But he was away more than he was home. I understood why. The Templars were making plans to murder Commander Washington. That was a major deal to Connor, as well as the Patriot army. Connor spent most of his time in Boston or New York, gathering what intel he could and meeting with associates. He didn't tell me anything he learned – if he learned anything at all. But I was certain his efforts had been fruitless thus far. He stayed far too distracted for me to believe the opposite.

Connor finally looked at me as Abby grabbed a carrot from his plate and began to eat it. He didn't appear bothered by my inquiry, only thoughtful. "I do not know."

I nodded, expecting that answer. It was the same one he always gave me when I asked when or for how long he was leaving.

"Are you going hunting tomorrow?"

Connor shrugged. It wasn't that he needed to hunt. We had plenty of food. It was for practice that he went on excursions. He usually let me tag along, which made me happy. I loved going into the woods with him. Not because it was the only time we had alone together, but because I got to watch him show off his prowess. Every since the incident with the elk, I had been infatuated with my husband. I studied him, memorizing his proficiencies and reveling in his skill. The way he moved with such ease and grace awed me. I longed to possess the abilities he had.

Sometimes, when Connor was gone, I would go out alone and attempt to preform the feats I had seen him carry out. It had taken me months to be able to propel myself through the trees without falling. But I had finally managed to be able to do so nine times out of ten. I was nowhere near as good as Connor was – I doubted I ever would be – but I was on my way to being a capable free runner.

I couldn't explain exactly why I wanted to be able to move like an Assassin, I just did. Every since I'd lost the baby, I had been feeling a desire for more. I wanted to be more. To do more. I was no longer content with just being a housewife. I wanted my existence to have meaning. I wanted to accomplish something.

I didn't try to explain any of this to Connor. I knew he wouldn't understand. He was adamant about me distancing myself from the Order. He didn't want me to know any more than I already did. He didn't want me to be involved in that part of his life. I told him I understood, but I really didn't. I felt like he was oppressing me, giving me a place. He had an ideal of what a wife's duties consisted of and knowing about the war between two secret factions was not my responsibility. Connor never verbalized this. It was only a sense I got when I questioned him on his work. I wasn't part of his Brotherhood. There were things he just couldn't tell me. I guess that's why I stayed quiet about my desires. Turnabout was fair play. If he could have secrets, I could, too. It was a vindictive way to look at it. But I told myself that was just who I was. I really had no clue who I was. Not anymore.

Abby picked up a piece of deer from Connor's plate and looked at me. "Yawekon."

I chuckled at her. It was amazing how quickly she was picking up on Kanien'keha phrases and their meaning. She could speak English just as easily. Sometimes she said things I didn't understand and Connor had to translate for me. If he wasn't home, I would remind her to speak English for me. Sometimes I had to tell her that in Mohawk before she would revert to speaking the language I most fluent in.

"I don't want it, sweetie," I told her. "You eat it."

Abby stared at me, still offering the piece of meat to me. "Raeks."

Connor got her attention and shook his head at her. "Ista does not like meat, Awe:ri."

Abby looked at her father and spoke something in a mass of gabbled Kanien'keha that I didn't catch. Connor smiled at her.

"Tiohrhen:sa sata:ti," he told her.

"Deer good, Father," she mumbled.

It stunned me that Abby didn't say mama or dada like most toddlers did. She never had. She referred to Connor and me as Father and Mother in either English or Mohawk. Her proper way of speaking reminded me so very much of Connor. She was a miniature female version of him in every way. I couldn't help but laugh at her. And the irritated glance she gave me when I did only deepened the effectiveness of my thinking. That was the same expression Connor often gave me when he was unsure about why I was acting the way I was.

"I love you, munchkin," I told her.

Abby smiled happily at me as Connor made a face. He hated it when I called her that. She loved it, though.

It was nearing winter when Achilles approached me about my training. Connor was off on one of his intelligence gathering missions again. He'd been gone for three days already. I had no clue when to expect him home. As per usual, I had began practicing the art of parkour as soon as he left. I told Achilles I was going hunting with Myriam when I dropped Abby off with him. I suspected he knew I was lying, but not to what end.

It was partly my own clumsiness that led to his knowledge of what I was doing. It rained a lot that fall. Tree branches are notoriously slick when covered with a thin layer of cold rain. I should have expected to fall. I gave no thought about how slippery the branch I grabbed onto was until my hold gave way. I landed hard on my right foot, my ankle twisting painfully under my weight. I cursed loudly as I sat on the wet ground, gritting my teeth with anger and frustration.

When I could think strait again, I checked my injury. I was fairly positive it wasn't broken, but it was already swollen and extremely sore. I stood up and tested how much pressure my foot could stand. It wasn't much. I began to limp back home. It took me forever to get to the back door of the manor. I spent all that time trying to think of a good excuse for my injury. I shouldn't have even bothered with a lie. The look on Achilles' face when I said I tripped on loose stone was blatant disbelief. He stared at me in silence for so long I couldn't help but feel guilty and look away.

"Does Connor know what you've been doing?" he asked me.

I shook my head, not even attempting to deny.

"I didn't think so," Achilles stated.

The old man moved to the chair next to me and began to help wrap my ankle tightly with string of cloth. I watched Abby scribble on a spare piece of parchment that Achilles had given her while he tended my wound. When he was finished, he sat back and stared at me, shaking his head slowly.

"If you insist on this course of action, it would be wise to have someone train you."

I sighed and looked at him. "You know Connor would never agree to that."

Achilles frowned. "I wasn't talking about Connor," he said. "Did you forget it was I who trained him?"

I gazed at the old man with awe as I realized he was offering to teach me. A slow smile of gratitude formed on my face.

"Don't get too excited just yet," Achilles cautioned me. "I'm only going to give you enough pointers to keep you from killing yourself. I'll train you properly if you ever decide to tell your husband the truth."

Despite the scolding note in his voice at my deception, I nodded.