Chapter Ten
Lyra cowered against the wall with wrists bound behind her. The harsh rope chafed at tender skin. Placed in the corner of a dingy room, she tried to determine where she must be, why she'd been taken here. Plaster was falling off walls; the tiles on the floor were broken. She guessed the apartment must be one of the run down buildings in the poorer end of the city. By the eerie quiet, she also sensed they were the only tenants in the building.
The rooms were dark and shadowed. Windows were shuttered against any light, though she could tell night had already fallen. The décor was stark, with a scattering of bottles and broken plates. The gloom of the place was closing in around her. The grime seemed to infect her very pores.
This place…could only be what was once Feryl's home. The thought of him living in such a place galled her. Things about the elf boy suddenly came to light; his fascination with the sun, his ignorance of the world around him. Her heart did a painful roll at the thought.
She was not a stupid girl. Once she'd been captured and taken to this awful place, she knew who this man was, and her purpose for being here. Here was Feryl's master. He was a cruel, imposing man, wearing black and dark brown clothing. For a thief, he was an intimidating man.
The lines of his face were sharp and clear, the angle of his cheek to jaw was sublime. Hair was a bit unkempt, with tendrils falling over deep brown eyes. However, something was missing from those dark eyes. He had no soul, no pity. There was something very inhuman about him. One might not even look twice at him save for the coldness he donned like a shroud.
Crying seemed useless at this point. The effort serving only to cause her to sniffle miserably and soak the cloth gag that man had put in her mouth. He was merciless, smiling when she begged, and laughed when she finally sobbed in utter hopelessness.
"Don't fret so, child." The man chided her with pretended gentleness. "Your misery will end soon. I have all the confidence in the world that Feryl will come to rescue you."
Lyra didn't believe him. There was no doubt in her mind he was not letting her live through the night. In addition, how could he so certain the boy would free her? Wouldn't Feryl rally Master Kendari and others to come find her? Lyra expected the master swordsman to arrive just in time with a hoard of city guard to her rescue.
The man crouched too close, admiring, she assumed, her face long enough before wiping her face of tears. "Such a pretty little thing." He said, tugging off the gag. She could see him more clearly due to close proximity, and made out the shape of brow over eyes, the thin lips on his drawn mouth. The man paused before reaching up to also pull off the servant's cap. "I can see why he likes you."
"Who?"
"Don't play stupid with me, girl. You know who."
Ah yes, Feryl. She cringed as he began releasing her hair to tumble down past shoulders. Rarely could she wear hair loose, being the length always got in the way, but men seemed to like the strawberry blond color and silken texture. That was a reason she supposed she also bound it under the cap, to avoid the looks of men until she came of age.
No such safety here, she thought. This man made no hiding the fact he admired her, but the look was something of that one might find at a marketplace when buying a new horse. He never touched her in any other way. Whatever fears she had of his intention of harming her faded when he moved away, not giving her a second thought.
"What if he doesn't come?" She asked him in a shaky voice. Lyra knew the answer already. Her life was forfeit. Such a pitiless man could not let her live.
"Feryl will come." The man took a seat at the small table in the kitchen, kicking boots up on the wobbly furniture and prepared to wait. "I know him. I know how he thinks. I know his wants." The dark eyes sparkled in glee. "You might say I know his very soul."
Anger sparked. Here was the monster that left Feryl skittish and nervous about everything around him. He'd beaten the boy enough to break bones. He spoke as if he were fond of the elfling, and not a cruel monster that bullied young children.
Her captor snorted a light laugh at her reaction. "You don't think so?"
"No, I do not."
"You think you know him better than I?" He challenged her.
"I know he is a good person." She replied defiantly. "That's all I need to know."
"Typical." A reply spat in sudden disgust and distain. "And Ignorant. Just what I expect from a pretty little thing from you. All you see if is the boy. You cannot possibly imagine the sharp mind, the trained skills, and that certain something that makes him exceptional."
He was correct to an extent. Lyra sensed there was something extraordinary about Feryl but had no words to explain what she felt when she was with him. This was more than infatuation, she knew. Boys fawned over her, men flirted with her, her own attraction to Feryl was undeniable, but there was still something else about the dark elf that went deeper. He was meant to do great things, she thought to herself.
"Ah but maybe you can see it after all, eh?" The man tilted his head as he had been watching her carefully. His scrutiny unnerved her. Here was a man adept at seeing subtle body language and facial expression. Could he also read minds? The soulless gaze bore into her own. "Drawn to him like a moth to a flame. But then, aren't we all?"
Her face pinched into a frown, not understanding his meaning at first. The edges of unsettlement nipped at her sense of right. This man was infatuated with Feryl.
"He didn't tell you about me." The man stated with confidence. "In fact, Feryl never told you a thing about his life here."
Her silence was answer enough. He brushed his hair from his eyes, completely at ease. "You're a fortunate girl, for tonight you will know more than anyone else alive-" He suddenly paused as if hearing something, and the smile widened. "I told you he would come." The man paused, nodding to himself. "And he's come alone."
Lyra could hear the halted footsteps coming up the stairs beyond the door. Her heart nearly stopped when the door opened and the dark elf entered. He wore only the practice clothes of simple tunic and breeches, had no weapons, and had come alone just like the man had said. She had hoped he'd be relieved or smile reassuringly. He gave her nothing. The pensive look he wore slowly turned into a mask she couldn't read. His manner was oddly reminiscent of his master's.
Nekros approached, and immediately Feryl stiffened. Eyes dropped to the floor in submission, as his master circled him. Long black hair had long since worked free of its binding, now fell forward very much like when she first saw him. The same tense scowl settled on his face, now pinched in tension.
"Impressive, isn't he?" Her captor purred, cupping Feryl's chin to force his head up, pulling the curtain of hair to clear his face. The dark elf slowly closed his eyes, enduring the attention. "I had doubts you would bring the girl, so I brought her myself."
Lyra frowned. Her fear was so overwhelming she felt ill. Feryl was supposed to bring her? He didn't seem surprised, and guilt was thick in the look he gave her. No wonder he had acted strangely today.
The way the man moved around the boy was much like a predator. But Feryl's reaction to this was also unsettling. He was accustomed to this behavior, in fact, expected it. Doubts screamed at her, and the girl wondered if her faith had been misguided. Had she been tricked by the boy? Had his behavior been an act?
"Feryl hasn't told you, has he?" The man accused, releasing his hold of the boy to circle him. When he moved behind, he leaned very close to the boy's ear. Feryl's eyes opened to focus again on her, and Lyra felt a tug of sympathy. She sensed it hadn't been an act. "You haven't told her who I am, did you, Feryl?"
"No." Feryl answered dully. He lowered his chin, only to have it yanked back up. Nekros had a first full of his hair, forcing him to look at his 'friend' now bound and gagged on the floor. His voice tightened. "I've told no one."
"Very good." The man murmured, "Tell her now."
She saw Feryl swallow hard, a pink tongue flickered out across dry lips. "He is Nekros." He told her. The statement was abrupt and hit her like a hammer.
Lyra shivered, wanting desperately to crawl into the wall behind her. "No…" She whispered, questioning his words. Nekros…? His master was Nekros! That would mean…Her mind worked furiously to grasp this information. Feryl was an assassin's apprentice all this time! He was no mere thief! She wondered if the boy had ever killed anyone, if he had helped this monster in his work. Somehow, she didn't think so, and yet he stood in close proximity. He obviously knew the monster.
Nekros…The very word struck terror, brought visions of gore and memories of hushed stories to frighten little children. No one escapes. He's faceless. Nekros is brutal and eats souls. Many never considered him human but something invoked from Oblivion. Even he appeared human now, Lyra wondered if this was some sort of guise.
Right now, Nekros was very pleased by her reaction to this news. "Are you so certain now he is a good person?" The man asked her. Even Feryl watched her now, seeing her respond to the news. "See Feryl? She's wondering what crimes you've committed, whose blood you've spilt. She doubts you now. So quickly friendship fades with the crime of association."
The red gaze fell back to the floor in defeat. He looked distressed at her reaction, but still said nothing. He just stood there.
Nekros sighed softly, almost as if in contentment. He was very pleased with having his apprentice back in his clutches once more. He particularly enjoyed the drama.
"This is a special day." He announced, and Lyra couldn't tell if his statement was as directed to her or Feryl. The man moved to the table where several items had been laid out, one of which was a slender dagger. "This night, Feryl becomes a man."
Lyra cringed, turning to Feryl as to why she was suddenly frightened. He was immobile, as if anticipating this all along. They both watched the assassin move with smooth grace over the girl. She gave a small cry when he forced her back to her feet. The grip on her arm was bruising, belying his casual manner as he maneuvered her against the next wall. Her eyes never left the weapon in his hand.
"You see, my dear." He told her gently, the dagger's point casually tapped against her chest. "Every apprentice must endure a test of skill, but also his heart. I fear his time spent with you has polluted my efforts, but hopefully not beyond redemption." The man smiled like a cat that just caught a bird. "Tonight is his first blooding, and a test of his soul. You see, the first step to becoming an assassin is of course to kill without remorse." He cast a strange look at the boy who stood stoic and unmoving. "Some might say that matters little to the victim, and in truth, it matter little even for the assassin, just as long as he can accomplish the deed."
The words, Lyra felt, were being directed at Feryl, and by the lost hopeless spark in his eye, he knew that as well.
"For an assassin," Nekros continued, firmly placing her against the wall to wait. "The first blooding is special. You can't forget your first kill. The moment marks your change into manhood, and remains with you forever."
Lyra glanced to Feryl hoping he'd do something, anything to stop the man from talking. She knew where this was leading to. No, she silently pleaded to him, you wouldn't ..?
The dark elf was motionless, a gray statue in the grim center of the room as he seemed to wait. His face was a mask, showing nothing in the way of pity or sorrow. Had she been wrong about him, all this time? Was her want of friendship so terribly misplaced? Her eyes seemed to tell her that yes, Feryl was the cold-hearted monster as his master was, but deep down, she knew that was wrong. But how? His friendship could be...must be all a lie.
"Feryl." Nekros said sharply, breaking the eerie stillness. "Its time to prove yourself worthy." He extended the dagger hilt first to the boy.
Feryl's red eyes stared at the delicate knife, then back to his master.
Refuse…Lyra prayed, tell him no…
She watched in horror as slender fingers clasped the hilt.
"Feryl…please." Tears began to stream down her face. Nekros stepped away to give him room, and she considered running. With arms bound behind her, she doubted she'd get far, and she had nowhere to go. Knees shook in renewed terror and the girl cringed as the boy she had hoped to call friend approached to stand before her.
With Nekros unblinking stare upon them, she sucked back sobs to face death bravely. Part of her desperately wanted to plead and beg, but pride held the words back. If he's going to kill me, I'll give him no satisfaction. Tears, however, continued to fall.
She closed her eyes, holding her breath. To her surprise, a slight touch brushed against her cheek. Lyra opened her eyes to see him staring at her oddly, wiping tears off her face.
I'm sorry…He didn't have to say the words; she saw the apology in his softened gaze. But so what if he held regret to this deed? Only his killing her was what mattered. She swallowed hard, felt him lean forward, and startled, found him pressing lips against hers.
She jerked at the touch, surprised and indignant he'd dare kiss her before murdering in cold blood. Where once she had imagined his affection with a nervous flutter, now the contact seemed only to mock her. She clamped her mouth shut, heard her muffled protest. The blade by now was at her back, the point ready to slide easily into flesh. Lyra squirmed against him.
His other hand cupped her chin, gentle at first but more insistent when she tried to turn away. Terror mounted at his unspoken demand for her to kiss him. Feryl dared to brush a tongue against her teeth. The lips were remarkably gentle, goading, teasing her now.
Too frightened and knowing of death so imminent, she finally relented. A noise bubbled up from her throat only to as a sound pathetic whimper by his lips and tongue. A strange taste filled her mouth, sweet like honey. Slowly she realized he was pushing something, some substance into her mouth. Struggling the hand released his chin, she felt the effects of the poison almost immediately as legs gave out.
His arm snaked around and held her up as the rest of her body began to fail her. A sharp prick to her side told her the knife had found its target, and oddly, she thought there would be more pain than this. Sucking in air, she meant to scream, only to find she no longer had the strength for it.
Drifting into unconsciousness, she felt one last kiss, this time gentle as if telling her goodbye. Blackness engulfed her.
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The last gasp of air was audible in the small apartment, and Feryl finally let the body slump to the floor. He still gripped the bloody dagger in his hand, feeling the warm sticky fluid stain his fingers.
The girl was motionless, skin was translucent white and mouth red with blood. She'd bitten him, which he had expected when she realized he was going to kill her. He could feel her terror as she realized he used poison, could now taste her fear. Tongue and throat felt numb from the poison he'd used, but he was resistant to such things. Wiping his own mouth with the back of his hand, his tongue rolled the metallic flavor of the wounded lip. More blood stained her dress.
Clapping sounded behind him. Nekros was beaming. "By the Nine Divines, Feryl, you never cease to amaze me." He gasped, "Never have I seen such a dramatic death…"
The assassin moved to check for a pulse at her throat and found none. He lightly trailed fingers along her pretty face. Blue eyes that had once sparkled, now glazed over and staring into nothingness. Brushing aside the curtain of strawberry blond, he closed lids. Now she appeared as if only sleeping.
Taking the blade from Feryl's hand, Nekros grinned. "Welcome home. You've excelled where I thought you'd only pass marginally. I'm impressed."
Feryl remained expressionless, looking at the body at his feet. Strangely, the boy didn't even shed a tear. Nekros refrained from smiling further however, just in case the boy was on the edge of sanity. Death of a loved one could do that to you, he'd heard. He paused considering his apprentice, only now seeing how unmoving he'd become.
Nekros hadn't expected the boy to carry through in bringing the girl. He even thought the task was perhaps a bit much to ask of him. Taking the girl was forcing his hand, and the assassin was going to kill her in front of him. Another test, he thought grimly, to teach the boy that friends had no place in his life. Much to his surprise, however, the boy seemed ready to accept the mantle of apprentice once again.
"Better you than me." The assassin murmured to the boy. This caught his attention, causing eyes of deep wine to flicker up to his face. They locked stares and Feryl realized the man confirmed his suspicions. Nekros was going to kill her anyway, and horribly. The death he'd given her was more humane by far.
Even though Feryl wanted to think the words were to provide some form of solace to the deed, Nekros waved his hand to the body. "Dump her in the river." He stated coldly, "Then return here quickly. We have to discuss how to rid ourselves of Master Kendari."
Nodding, Feryl wrapped her body in her cloak. He had to carry her over his shoulder in order to handle the weight, but the river was a short distance. He had to move quickly. Time was essential to his plan. Once outside, he kept to the shadowy back streets to make his way towards the wharf. To anyone who might see him, he was simply carrying a heavy parcel or perhaps an old rug. This late at night, however, Feryl doubted anyone would notice at all.
He entered the enclosed courtyard of a familiar tavern known as the Dancing Fish. They kept kegs in the back, often refilling the pitchers, but did so on a regular basis. People came and went all the time. Here, Feryl had often enjoyed just watching people, and knew there was a constant stream of passersby.
Gently laying the girl near the barrels of ale, Feryl crouched over her still form, unwrapping her until he could see her face. He waited a few moments, and smiled at the sound of an indrawn breath. The Inera sap he used worked quickly, painlessly, and in small doses, could render a victim into a death-like sleep. He silently thanked the time spent on learning of poisons.
The boy took notice of blood still seeping through the cloak, and knew she'd need help soon. He hadn't struck anything vital, knowing human anatomy well enough to avoid a death strike, but she was still losing blood.
Feryl backed off, running by the door to slam a fist against the wood. Just as the door opened, he was already gone into the shadows.
"What's that? Who's there?" A burly man shouted. The tavern keeper hesitated upon seeing the huddle of cloak and girl near one of his kegs, and approached with uncertainty. "Ho there…oh by the gods…" He knelt over Lyra, lifting her into his arms. "Adrari, fetch a healer! Quickly!"
Feryl stood atop a low roof, and made sure the girl was carried into safety. "Good-bye Lyra…" He murmured softly. Turning, he took to the rooftops to return to Nekros and finish what he started.
This chapter is a bit shorter than the others, but had enough action to merit the length I think. Seems Feryl's study of poison pays off. Tricking his master into thinking Lyra is dead is one thing though, doing the monster in is quick another!