There were a lot of places he would prefer to this. Not that the little castle on the cliff didn't suit him; in any other situation he would be very delighted indeed about it. It was just his current state of mind. The shame. The anger. The despair.

When he had turned out to be a complete failure, why were they still taking him to a place like this?

Probably because Benji was expecting to pick him up not this night, but the next. Yes, this would be the reason.

He followed Knox and Vivian in through the entrance, wishing to be back at the orphanage, finding some comfort in a book. At the moment the second part of The Lord of the Rings was awaiting him on his tiny bedside table – like so often. He did not call many possessions his own, and J.R.R. Tolkien's fantasy saga was among the most treasured ones.

He would also prefer to help out in the kitchens or the gardens, as every orphanage child had to do from time to time. Just like the others, he didn't appreciate such duties at all. However, there wasn't much he could do wrong there.

He wouldn't even mind to be in church right now. Better bored and sitting on a hard seat than going through several stages of embarrassment and still having a lot of time for that ahead.

The old classroom would be alright, too. Any lesson.

Or the bathroom. He had to go there badly.

"Come on", Knox commanded impatiently as they were climbing up a winding staircase. Well, he was coming, wasn't he? So what was wrong with it?

Knox answered the unspoken question by grabbing him by the sleeve and pulling him to his side. "Here you go, laddie."

He did not protest in any way, he just pulled the open shirt back over his shoulder. Knox was just the right one to call him "laddie"!

"Feeling sick, are you?" Knox spoke in an easy tone that indicated very much that he didn't care.

Well, not exactly sick… He chose to shrug in response.

And then Knox did something rather unexpected: he put an arm around his shoulders. "Listen, buddy", he continued in the same tone, "only because there's some weirdness about you I'm not giving up on you. Understand? So cheer up, kid. And look forward to what's ahead."

Vivian's laughter at that remark made him do just the opposite.

"Are you tired yet?"

He shook his head. No, he was alright. He didn't need much sleep.

"Good. You know", Knox continued, "I might just need you to be awake." Again Vivian laughed. "Still some time to go. Then you can get some sleep if you like."

Again nodding, he wished Knox would release him. Being so close to the man was not a comfortable feeling.

"Well, I would certainly like to", Vivian put in.

"What?" asked Knox, suspicions arising. "Are you implying you'd like to take him to bed?"

He concentrated on the steps he was taking, how he was continually climbing the stairs.

"No. Don't be silly." Somehow this answer was a disappointment to him.

"There was something between you and Morgan…"

"But not on the first night we met", Vivian reminded Knox, leaving him hopeful.

"See, buddy? You might even be rewarded when you've shown what you're worth." Like an afterthought, Knox added: "Although I don't like it."

He dared a grin at that.

"Go and check if old Springfield's in", Knox instructed. It took a moment for him to realize that this was directed not at himself, but at Vivian, because of the harsh tone Knox spoke it. Clearly anger at having a rival – even though he certainly didn't feel like one. However, Knox considering him as a rival could finally give him some satisfaction. "You, kid, are coming with me."

"Right." Vivian disappeared through a door.

Still with an arm around his shoulders, Knox led him further up the stairs. "You know", he said conspiratorially, "that's the way it is with women. They're practically interested in the same thing as we are, but when it comes to it, they make it complicated. First they shoot risqué remarks at you, then they behave as if they were an allegory of decency. But inside every woman is a great big bitch, boy, mind that."

He answered with a simple nod. Women were not his field of profession. However, he strongly doubted that Knox knew much about women in general.

"Ever had a girl?" Knox continued.

Not in mood to appear ignorant in any way, he confirmed that. He had had a girlfriend at kindergarten, back in Bucharest. That should be good enough for Knox.

"So you'll know what I mean, eh?"

To this he just shrugged. There hadn't be much of a chance to find out about any such things, both of them being five years of age then. Most of their activities together had mainly consisted of playing with bricks and dolls and teddy bears or sitting around giggling. From time to time they had held hands, and once Juliana had even kissed him (which had been rather embarrassing, as everybody had been watching), but that was all concerning his experiences with a girlfriend.

"There's just one thing I'd like you to keep in mind." Knox's voice had lost its conspiratorial tone and acquired a sharp edge instead. "I find you in bed with Vivian, you're a dead man. Got that?"

Trying to appear as unmoved as possible, he nodded. Man, that had actually been a threat. Not the first one he heard, of course, but certainly the most serious one.

If this really were a proper job he was applying for, he thought, it wouldn't work like that. Knox would keep their relationship strictly professional.

And there wouldn't be such strange… trials.

What were Knox and Vivian up to? If not for Benji, he would tend to believe that they were merely taunting him.

Making a decision, he reached for the notepad he had pocketed – which was feeling a bit uncomfortable, because it was way too big to be stuffed into the chest pocket properly – and fumbled his trouser pocket for the pen. Realizing that, Knox stopped, turned him loose and looked at him expectantly. "You have permission to speak", he remarked with a lopsided grin.

Ha ha ha. Very funny.

Trying to hold the pad as steady as possible, he scribbled: Why do I have to go through all this?

Knox read it, raised his eyebrows at him, and finally answered: "We need to know if you're qualified, kid." With this, he was about to go.

Taking the notepad up again, he tried another question: Qualified for what?

Their eyes met. For a moment Knox seemed to wonder if he should outstare him, but he held his gaze, tried to force all the cold and malice he could muster into his eyes. Soon Knox lowered his head, reluctantly admitting defeat. "Don't you know that by now?" he attempted to escape the question.

But Knox had no chance. Now he had beaten him once, and he would beat him a second and third time if need be. It's not a proper job, isn't it? Something you definitely wouldn't try filling in over the newspaper?

"It is a proper job, alright."

I think you know what I mean.

"Yes, I do."

So why didn't he tell them? I'd like to know what kind of job I'm applying for.

"Didn't Morgan tell you anything?"

Nothing. Which is strange. I assume you had him keep it secret.

Knox clicked his tongue. "You're cleverer than I thought."

Fine. He seemed to start feeling uncomfortable. Are you going to tell me?

Again their gazes met, but this time Knox didn't even try to win that way. "Right. I can't keep it from you forever. Come on, and I'll tell you."

Somehow he managed not to grin.

Knox led him up to the top of the staircase, where a bell hang in the tower, and out onto a wide terrace, into the night. For a moment there was silence between the two of them. Then Knox began softly: "Are you a moviegoer? I am. And there's a certain type that has always impressed me. The dark man. The mystery man. Nobody knows who he really is – until it is too late. The dark avenger in the night."

He nodded to that, but Knox didn't heed him. "The man they all fear. Protector to one, nemesis to the rest of them." It seemed as if he were speaking to himself, forming his dark fancies and fantasies into words. "The man in black. The dark angel. The angel of death."

In the silence that followed, the beating of the waves on the shore below was unnaturally loud. And so was his heartbeat. He could hear it hammer in his ears. At once his hands had gone all clammy. So it was true after all, the thing that had occurred to him back at Knox's apartment. So he had guessed right. Licking his dry lips, he looked at Knox, waiting for him to continue, to tell him he was joking or whatever. But Knox didn't speak anymore.

With trembling fingers he took out notepad and pen again. The moon gave light enough to write. The assassin, he wrote. It was not a question, it was a statement.

Knox looked him up and down, as if recovering from a dream. "Yes, boy. The assassin."

And then he believed that his heart missed a beat.

Far away in the sky, a tiny star blinked at him, and its light was cold.