HER NAME WAS ISKIJJI.
Behind her silver mask with its exquisitely fine filigree work, a stylized face that appeared only when light hit it just so, she surveyed the dead before her with mild disgust.
It had been slaughter, with no finesse, no plan nor technique. The Prey was before her, behind doors and locks and security, though it would not matter. She would find a way.
She and her Sisters always found a way.
Iskijji moved back down the hallway, past the carnage the Prey had left in his wake, nodded to herself.
Impressive.
Formidable Prey was always to be sought. There was much to learn.
How odd he was, she pondered, incongruous to what they'd been told, though killer he definitely was, brutally efficient. There must be some honour in him.
She rejoined her Sisters as they came back together. She informed them of the Prey's current location and Sister Aikijji investigated the door. Bypassing the supposedly impenetrable was her specialty.
Iskijji saw her elder sister's mask turn back toward them. The fine work on it was heavier, more intricate. She had Hunted for far longer, knew more of the ways of Prey.
"We wait." She said simply, and lowered herself to the floor with great grace, folding in on herself. Her Sisters followed and did likewise.
Iskijji used this time to center herself, chase her faint doubts.
There must be some honour in him, she thought again, for there is the sour tang of a lie in why we were sent, for why did he come here? What purpose is there in the slaughter of prisoners, the guilty, the condemned? He is no executioner.
She wanted to ask her Sisters, though knew it was not the time. She knew Nihijji would just wait and make no judgements. Aikijji was sure the Prey was treacherous and sly and that circumstances would force him to run again.
If the Prey was as she herself thought, he would soon show himself. Iskijji was curious as to who would prove correct.
She settled herself and drew her quills in, softened them to wait.
I wonder what he will teach me?
