A/N:
I wrote this in a 'spur of the moment' kind of mood, so if it's a bit weird that's why. This is a follow on from "Trickster's Queen" and takes place after the raka rebellion/Mithros's and the Great Mother Goddess's war with Kyprioth and the lesser tricksters for the throne of the Copper Isles.
Disclaimer: The characters you recognise and the world all belong to Tamora Pierce.
Prologue
The winter storm continued to inflict its fury on the city below. The thunder was so loud it seemed as though the sky was about to split in two. The streets of Rjamuat were dark, lit eerily by the lightening and apparently deserted with the sensible people all inside their homes. The exception was the lone form of a part-blood raka woman that hurried down the street, leaning into the wind in a vain effort to stay up right. Casting a furtive look over her shoulder the woman hurried towards the palace. It was in sight when she collapsed, falling flat on her face, an arrow that glinted with the remnants of the magic that had kept it on course despite the wind, protruded from her back. The figure of a man dressed entirely in black, with a bow and quiver slung over one shoulder, emerged from the shadows of an alley and approached the body cautiously.
He looked carefully wanting making sure he killed the woman. Certain the woman was dead the assassin proceeded to search the body discarding a number of items before removing an oilskin packet. Swiftly he returned to the shadows and the scant protection form the weather in the alley. Opening the packet he de-coded message with ease, a grim smile spreading across his face. At his command the coloured fire of his gift flared into existence and burned the message to ashes carried away on the wind. He raised a hand to his face a speaking spell glimmering in his gloved palm.
"They know," he told the unseen person on the other side of the spell.
"We're back on track. Everything is now continuing as planned."
"Very well," replied a cold voice just audible over the noise of the storm.
"Get rid of the body. No one in the palace can find out about this."
The spell extinguished itself, and the assassin hurried forward. Grabbing the woman's belonging's, he slung her form over his shoulder carrying it the short distance to the series of moats leading to the palace then dumped everything into the water, watching in morbid fascination as the water foamed, and the carnivorous fish that inhabited the moats removed all trace that she had ever existed. Turning, he hurried back down the street pausing to check the ground for any remaining objects, seeing nothing he scanned the darkness once more before disappearing into thin air, leaving the street as though he had ever been there.
Shivering with cold, a street boy peered cautiously around the corner of the alley to be greeted by a fistful of wind and rain slamming into his face. He hurriedly pulled back into the relative shelter the alley gave from the storm.
What plan? He wondered shivering. He'd hid when the man had appeared; he'd spent far too long on Rjamuat's streets not to know trouble when he saw it. With a shrug he huddled back against the wall, if you wanted to keep your nose you didn't stick it where it didn't belong. Still, you never knew when a seemingly insignificant piece of information like this could come in handy…
A/N:
Well what do you think? Should I bother writing another chapter? (I'm probably going to anyway, but hey…) It may come as a surprise but you can tell me. It's really easy. All you have to do is click the little button at the bottom of the page that says 'submit review' instead of the awfully tempting 'back' button at the top of the page. If you do get round to leaving a review try to be easy on me, this is my first fanfic.