Chapter One ~ In the Shadows
"So, 'ave ye 'eard who 'is latest target is?" A large man sat at the bar, talking to his equally big companion.
The other man nodded and looked around, as if someone might be listening in the shadows. "They say it's 'is Lord Oaklam. One can tell, he got an 'ouse full of guards and ain't notin' else. He's being more careful these days; he's waitin' for 'im ta show."
Both men shuddered and drank heavily from their tankards. Oaklam was much hated throughout the city. He was a slave trader and often took people out of the capital itself and sold them off to other countries. More than one person wanted him dead, but so far, no one got very far.
From the shadows, a woman dressed all in black listened. She wore shiny black leather breeches and a silk shirt of the same color. Her face was covered by a dark veil; only her cold violet eyes were visible. Her hair was hidden and she had on tall black boots which reached her knees. A long ebony silk sash was tied at her waist, a single black Opal at its end. A single large Amethyst dangled on a silver wire and settled in the hollow of her neck perfectly.
She smiled grimly when the two men had started talking; for it was her that they were discussing. She had been the talk of the city every since she had taken her first job, three long months ago. Of course, many thought she was a he. She drained her tankard and reached inside the folds of her sash and took out a silver piece. She let it drop onto the table with a loud clatter.
Heads turned, she ignored them. A shiver went through the crowd and the room was oddly silent. She got up and walked towards the two men who were now wishing they were anywhere but here. "You were right about some things," she told them. Her voice was soft and light, but always seemed to carry a tone of mystery and coldness, but no one could mistake it for that of a male's.
"Do you know him? Lord Oaklam?" She stayed in the shadows, never letting herself move fully out of the dark. But even in the half-light of the shadows, no one that could ever mistake her for a man.
They two frightened men shook their heads jerkily. "N-n-not p-personally."
She smiled coldly, "Well, if you ever see him, tell him that I'm coming--soon. It's only fair to warn him, but it seems he knows already. Good, it's more interesting when they put up a defense."
She turned and left, and slowly, almost reluctantly, the buzz of conversation resumed.
Once she was outside, Alanna sank back into the shadows. She had spent the past seven years like this, she liked it. The shadows that is, not her life. But it was better at least, than the university. With all those stuck up mages and ladies who used their Gifts for nothing but parties, luxury, or pleasure. She suspected it was as bad as the convent.
She bit her lips, thinking of that brought back bitter memories. Stupid, that's what had been, stupid. But just as well, Thom was dead. She hadn't even gotten to visit his grave. No, she shook her head to clear the thoughts. Memories are no help when she had work to do.
She looked up and measured the distance to the roof. It was a low one. She leaped onto a barrel and jumped to the roof from there. The whole city lay open to her, who would have thought, the roofs were an interesting highway. And there was never any traffic, except for the occasional street urchin smart enough to use it to get around.
She flipped to the next platform, higher this time. Silent footfalls seemed to echo in her ears. She knew she wasn't making a sound, but things were queer here.
She made her way upriver, heading towards the lands of a certain Lord Oaklam. She juggled the bags of gold coins she that had suddenly appeared in her hands. This was the money that she had been paid to kill him. But this was not half of it; she could go get the rest when her job was done.
She didn't need the money, no of course not. She could be a good little girl and return to Tortall and Trebond, marry a dominating husband, and live the rest of her days in boredom and submission. She had enough money at home: she was a noble whose family tree reached back to the book of Gold. But she had nothing left back there, in that country of that life. She had lost it when her brother died those long years ago.
She cursed him sometimes, she was angry. But even more, she cursed the Prince, whose live he saved. Yes, he saved the Prince's life, but killed himself in the process. And who did she curse the most? The one who sent the Sweating Sickness in the first place. The very thought of these things made her blood boil.
She tried to rid herself of these thoughts, they only made her lose her temper and that was never a good thing. Instead, she concentrated on her target: Oaklam. She smiled; I could almost feel sorry for him, if he wasn't such a filthy man himself. She was glad she didn't have to kill an innocent this time, but she shouldn't care--not if she was to be a good assassin. And she didn't, not really. But she did heal those that she did not need to hurt.
Like on days when she didn't want to be seen as the 'Hunter', when that rare feeling came up and she didn't want to spend anymore time in the shadows. They were few, but they lasted days. The first time it happened was after her tenth assassination. She had just killed an innocent. Of course she was hired to do so, by Oaklam himself. The man had owed the Lord some money; he couldn't pay it, so Oaklam wanted to get rid of him. He hired the 'Hunter', who he had heard never failed a job.
That was true too, Alanna hadn't quit a job, and she never failed to murder the one she was paid to. But she did regret it when the person she had to kill was innocent--sometimes, not always, but sometimes. And it was times like these when she donned a black wig, dressed as a street girl and volunteered at the Healer's Station. She had the gift, and she had saved many lives. Enough to rid herself of the killing? Maybe. You never know.
They saw the color of her gift yes, it was purple, but they never saw her eyes. She kept her head down the whole time, avoiding anyone's gaze but the patients. And she only healed the ones that were fatally ill. Of course the whole process would leave her dizzy and lightheaded, but it was worth it. Or was it? She didn't now anymore. It was not her place to question right or wrong--but then again, when did she stay in her place?
She smiled in spite of herself and continued upriver through the road on the roofs. Jumping and climbing, always in the shadows. She almost enjoyed it sometimes--she got to learn a warrior's art--maybe not the kind she would like, but she was content with her skills--for the moment. She knew there would come a time when she would crave for more knowledge, of fighting, of this. But for now, everything was fine. Or was it.
She sighed, there was too many questions, she should just leave everything were it was and just focus. She hadn't thought like this since...since a long time ago. She couldn't--shouldn't--start again now.
The sky was now turning a queer shade of pink, making the clouds left around it seem irregular and deformed. Alanna paused and shaded her eyes to look at them. Not tonight she thought as she watched the sunset. She didn't feel like being a hunter just now. She resumed her path, now heading east. Within moments, she was in familiar territory again.
She jumped down from the roofs and landed with a soft thump on the dirt. She scanned the alley for people; she only noticed a black cat, who sulked away the moment she took a step.
She shrugged and headed toward the end wall of the narrow alley. She ran her hand along the smooth stone of the wall, and the opal on her sash began to glow purple. With a quick movement, she extracted the stone from the silk and placed it in the hollow that had appeared in the wall. Almost immediately, four long cracks appeared, forming a box a bit shorter than her.
She pushed gently on the gem, applying just enough pressure needed to make it stop radiating purple light. The stone was absorbed into the wall, disappearing from sight. There was a small click and the cracks straightened and formed a door, which slid back to reveal a room. Learning sorcery at the University had its uses...
Alanna ducked inside it and surveyed the familiar surroundings carefully. A pile of large, embodied cushions were in a corner; a gauzy, expensive looking silver sheet draped over them. The Opal was on a mahogany stand near the door, once again violet light playing across its polished surface. That reminded her; she went back to the door and put her hand over the Amethyst at her neck. She squeezed gently and concentrated on the door. With another soft click, the door slid back into place.
She turned back to viewing her surroundings. She made sure that a large cedar chest was beside the bed of cushions, its gold-violet insignia seal across the lock. In a few great strides, she reached the opposite side of the room, where another, larger chest was. It stood above her waist and was also made of cedar. It was plain with only a small indentation where the lock should be.
She slipped the gem off its chain around her neck and placed it in the dent. The lid pooped open without a sound. Inside lay piles of clothes, cosmetics, wigs, and all manners of things. She chose some lip rouge, a dirt-brown wig, a coarse brown dress, and a pair of worn leather boots. She took them and placed them on the floor beside it, then closed the lid tightly.
Alanna removed the jewel from its place and walked over to the smaller chest. This time, she took the Opal too and slid it into a slit on its lid. She took her Amethyst and placed it on the middle of the gold and violet insignia. She concentrated on her Gift and drew out a single thread, thrusting it into the lock. The chest glowed purple-white and she heard a whirling sound. When the sound finally stopped, everything had stopped glowing.
Removing the Opal and Amethyst, she placed them on the floor momentarily. At first glance, the chest seemed empty, only lined with black velvet. In truth, you could see that black clothes were carefully folded and placed in it. Alanna took the small bags of gold coins out again and lifted the false flooring underneath the clothes. She placed all three bags into the compartment carefully and took out a small, worn, brown leather purse with a few coppers in it. She also replaced her silver-hilted daggers and got out some knives with battered handles that were in truth very sharp. She placed this along with the purse next to the dress and wig.
Satisfied, she nimbly reached up and removed her veil and coverings. She removed the pin that held her coppery locks of braided hair wound around her head and it tumbled to her waist. She stripped off her black shirt, breeches, and boots and donned the rough dress and boots she had taken from her other chest.
She folded the discarded clothing carefully and returned them to the place where they had come. Then taking the mud-brown wig and many more clips, she pinned her hair expertly and place the wig over it. So carefully and quickly was the done, that not a strand of her red hair showed. She applied the lip rouge sparingly, and when it was done, she looked like a regular, poor street girl. She added the final touch by tying the worn bag of few coppers around her waist. But what made her unlike other girls were the knives hidden all over her, professionally concealed.
At last, she closed the small chest and took back her Opal and Amethyst. These she put with the knife in her boots. She dusted off her hands and walked back to the door. She opened it once again and slid out into the dark street, the door sliding shut behind her.
Short chapter? Oh well, I just typed it up. Not much adventure, but it explains a lot. If you have any questions, just ask in your review. I'll answer them in the next chapter. And now, go click the little button that says 'Go' and tell me what you think!
And everyone who wrote a review for my prologue, thanks! I didn't expect to get so many for a 400 word prologue.
~Reaya