Out Of The Shadows

Chapter Sixteen:

Just Another Day

"Mae'Var said that you'd abandoned him."

Renal lent back behind his desk, some white woollen thing draped over his finger, spinning round. "I am sure he said a lot of things," he said at last. Imoen, who had to remain standing between two of Bloodscalp's humongous 'nephews', was clearly not impressed.

"Of course," he sighed, "you want to know if you can trust me, yes? It's understandable, since we will be seeing much more of each other from now. Maybe even working together."

"Maybe," the redhead nodded.

"A bit naïve, isn't it? I mean, I am a thief. I cheat, I lie, I steal. You don't really believe any of that nonsense about honour amongst us, do you?"

"I think, that Renal Bloodscalp is a fine, well respected, upstanding member of this community who would have no reason to hide anything from little ol'me."

"Then you really are naïve. 'Ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies', that's always been our unofficial catchphrase round 'ere. But, since you do ask, and since I do have nothing to hide in this instance, what he told you was true."

Imoen knew there had to be something more. "And?"

"And, in my own defence, I was young and rather inexperienced back then. When I saw him go down, I thought he was done for. With hindsight, I suppose I should have remembered what a tenacious bastard he always was back then. But, like I said, young and I'm afraid I have to admit somewhat panicking at the time."

"But he thought you'd just thrown him to the wolves, so you could get away. And that's why he hated you ever since."

"Yes. He may have been slightly bitter about me stealing his girlfriend as well. Pity I didn't get to kill him myself, but nevertheless you have upheld your end of our little bargain so you can move into his old guildhall. It'll be a nice little hang out for you and your gang, I'm sure."

"Do… do I have to keep Anishai?"

"Anishai? Why, don't you like her?"

"It's just," Imoen was drawing little circles in her hand, trying to think of a delicate way to put this… then she gave up. "I just can't think of any nice way to put it; she creeps everyone out. She's just… she's creepy. If spiders have a creepiness factor of one, then she's about nine hundred thousand."

"So… you're telling me she's creepy?"

"Yeah… she's a creeping creepy creep."

"I know," Renal nodded and smiled understandingly. "And, yes. You have to keep her. Otherwise though, I've no further assignments for you right now, so just do whatever you like with the place. If it were up to me, I would get lots of these," he said, holding up the knitted woollen thing. "Timmy, what is they're calling these things?"

"Doilies, boss," one of the nephews answered.

"Doily… what wonderful names people think of. You see, Imoen," he beckoned her close with his finger, and started to whisper conspiratorially. "The genius of them is, not only do they make a room look even more fabulous, they stop your furniture from being scratched by other ornaments. And as if that were not amazing enough, some of them can also be fashioned into rather fetching bonnets."

"Um… right," Imoen blinked, "I'll, er… bear it in mind…"

"Yes. Yes you will. And you will go downstairs right now to talk to one of my boys. We just a got a great big wagon load of the things, so they'll set you up. Since I know you haven't much money right, I'll let you pay in instalments."

"Oh. That's nice of you."

"Isn't it just? I'm touched by my own generosity sometimes. And so, I'll be in touch when I have other jobs for you… no doubt it will all go some way to setting up a meeting with the shadow master himself. So, run along."

"You!" A gruff voice barked down the alley. "Assassin…"

Anishai rubbed around her eye sockets wearily. This had become an annual event in her life, although it seemed to be happening more now. Bounty hunters. Their employer was with them too, right at the back of the alley. Pretty young woman; a noble or merchant's daughter, most likely.

The assassin had slipped a few times when she was young. Sparing the children. Now they were all grown up and had spent their whole lives thinking about nothing but revenge. Their whole, short lives.

"Do you remember me," the pretty one said, her voice trembling under the weight of all her hatred. "You left me crying over my father's body, while the house burned around us. Do you remember?"

The assassin shrugged. "Nope."

"Don't lie to me, bitch! I've spent years tracking you down."

"I'm sure you have. I'm sure it all seems very important to you, your father dying, you being left to pick up the shattered pieces of your life and to avenge him, etcetera. But I've killed many fathers. To me, it was just another day, another job. I am afraid there will be no fearful recognition as you stand triumphant over my broken body. Sorry about that, my dear."

"K-kill her!" The young woman barked.

The assassin sighed as a burly man came at her with a sword. Thrust, duck, slash… it had all become such a chore. Arteries severed. He would be dead in two minutes, unless a healer could get to him first, but they wouldn't. She took the crossbow from his back as he writhed and loaded it with her practiced efficiency. They should have chosen their battleground more wisely; the alley meant they could only come at her one or two at a time.

Next one charged with a spear. Aimed bolt at his upper lip. Death was… pretty much instant. Next one came; spear through eye. Again, instant. That just left the woman.

She screamed and fought. Not bad; she'd obviously had some lessons and acquired some skills. But she'd obviously never used them in a real battle before. Couple of well aimed blows and the pain and trauma almost completely incapacitated her. The assassins hands closed around the young woman's neck, squeezing more and more tightly with every breath. Death took about ninety seconds, in which time her expression changed from hatred, to desperation and then fear, and finally sorrow at her own miserable failure. All a bit of a waste, really.

Not much Anishai could do about the corpses. It would likely just be written off as more gang nonsense. She would have preferred dumping them in the river, letting them be washed away. But it was the middle of the day and too many people would notice. Besides, she had another job to do.

She returned to the guild.

The assassin found Aerie stood up on the roof. Alone. Just gazing out across the docks and the sky into the ocean. Although her eyes did keep getting drawn back to the street and all the hustle and bustle down there. It was odd; Aerie clearly didn't like being crowded by strangers, especially not indoors. At the same time, she was clearly fascinated by all these people. She wanted to know the way they think and feel. Maybe she thought if she understood these things, she would have no reason to be afraid of them anymore.

The elf was lost in thought and seemed quite unaware of the assassins' presence. It would have been so easy to just push her over the edge, tell others that she must have slipped due to a sudden gust of wind. Although she suspected Imoen at least would be very hard to convince of such an unfortunate accident occurring. In any case, there was no guarantee even a fall like that would actually kill her. It depended how much she resisted as she fell; being Avariel, there was a good chance she would know not to. She might even be able to get some magic defence up before hitting the ground, or just get lucky and land in something soft, like the empty space between Edwin's legs.

In any case, Anishai simply watched. Watched the sea wind blow the girl's long fair hair back across her creamy white skin and reddened cheeks like the very picture of innocence. She seemed so soft and weak right now, like she could be ripped apart like rice paper and hardly a threat to anyone or anything. But she'd seen that this girl definitely had the will and determination to grow much stronger, if given the time.

"So, how was it?" The assassin asked. The elf spun around, body tense. She had no idea if she would need to fight or not. Not that it would make much difference.

"How was what?" The girl asked after a moment, working hard to suppress her nerves.

"Killing," Anishai said, taking a couple of strides so she was next to the elf. "It's actually very easy, isn't it? Far easier than most think. "But did it make you feel powerful, hmm?" The assassin purred, running a finger gently down the side of the elf's face. "See, most the thieves here, they just take the odd trinket from someone. But you took away everything that man had, or ever will."

The blonde slowly shook her head. "No," she said between breaths, "I-I didn't feel powerful at all… not… n-not after I knew I'd done it, anyway. But, I had to protect Imoen."

"Whatever works for you, dear," Anishai patted her as she turned to face the breeze. "Tell me something; what is it you see when you look out there?"

The elf regarded her curiously for a moment, and finally shrugged. "J-just… people."

"People?" The assassin squinted. "Really…"

"P-people coming, people going, getting on with their lives."

"Yes. They do that, don't they? It can be so thoughtless of them sometimes. Is that all?"

"There's…" the elf took a breath, "there's a man there, waiting. He's been waiting for nearly an hour, getting more and more anxious, so whoever he's waiting for must be late. H-he has a gift with him; perfume. So, i-it's probably a woman. I'm not sure, but I don't think people usually buy perfume for men, do they?"

"No. Not usually."

"There's a woman waiting down there as well. She… s-she's very pretty, but she's lonely. I think she's just waiting for someone to come and talk to her."

"Maybe you should hook them up with each other."

"No… t-that would be cruel to the first woman. There might be a very good reason why she's late."

"Or she's decided to stand him up."

"We can't know for sure, can we?"

"No," Anishai wondered just how many little narratives this girl had constructed in her head in the time she'd been up here. The assassin squinted, but all she could see down there were… people's hearts. "Is that all?"

"No," the elf lowered her head, closing her eyes so she could listen, the corners of her lips sliding downwards. "Between the boxes there's a little girl, crying."

"Children cry often. What of it?"

"S-she's tucked herself away, hardly makes a sound. She's not crying just because she wants attention. I-it's… not that she doesn't, she just knows that no matter how many tears she sheds, no one ever comes to help her. But she still cries, because she doesn't know how to make the tears stop."

"And why does she cry?"

"I don't know," Aerie said, like she'd just woken up, "i-if I did, I would help her. But maybe it's not the little girl… I… don't know…"

"But you see life everywhere you look. That's… very interesting," the assassin said with a weary sigh.

After a moment, the elf asked, "what about you? W-what do you see?"

"Oh… I see life, too. But in a different way," the assassin turned once again to face her, putting one hand on Aerie's chest, letting her fingers trickle, while her other hand she caressed gently around the blonde's arm, turning it other. "I see your heart, here," she said, softly thumping it. Her thumb rubbed gently around the elf's wrist. "Arteries, here. And here," in an instant, she had her hands clasped around the girl's neck, "trachea… hmmm, that's a good word, isn't it? Almost rolls it's way off the tongue."

Aerie felt no pressure on herself, nor was there any. Steeling her gaze, she pulled herself away. "How… h-how many people have you killed?"

"I'm really not sure. I've had many contracts, but I've not kept any record of them."

"Why?"

"Well, it would be foolish in the extreme to have anything so incriminating close by…"

"No. I-I mean, why did you kill them?"

"Because I'm paid to," the assassin shrugged. "It's what I do. What I've always done."

"That's the only reason?" One could almost see the fire burning in her eyes. Blue flame; very hot. Could melt steel. "D-did you know who any of them where?"

"Nobles, business rivals, some poor sod who happened to see something he shouldn't have. Sometimes it's revenge for some slight many years ago… I don't really care to know the reasons, although in those cases they usually insist on telling me anyway," up until now of course, she'd never had a contract to kill someone for something they hadn't done, yet. "I suppose it… is all a bit pathetic when you actually start to think about it. Oh well," she shrugged again.

"Have… have you ever killed someone you thought actually deserved to die?"

"My, but isn't that an impertinent question?" The assassin stepped forward suddenly, and the elf let out a small gasp as she stepped back. There had been a time when Anishai would have felt a thrill at such a reaction, but it was getting more and more difficult. "You are a very curious creature, aren't you?" She said, again running a hand gently across the blonde's face. "You should be more careful what you ask. Asking the wrong questions can get you killed in this world. Or the right ones… it really just depends on your point of view, I suppose, and whether you manage to stay alive afterwards. Perhaps you can answer some questions for me, Aerie, avariel, age fifty six. Don't know what that works out as in human years; about nineteen or twenty, I suppose."

"Er… w… what?" The elf blinked, startled by the sudden formality of the address.

"See, Renal was quite disturbed when he first saw you. He didn't know who you were or where you'd come from. And a man like that, he likes to think he knows everything; he most certainly doesn't, but still, we let him think it. So he's had his own elves do some digging and now he has a whole book about you… about all of you, in fact. It so happens, I managed to procure myself a copy as well," tucked under the assassin's belts were several parchments pinned together, "when he suddenly had to take a little nap. I can copy quite fast, although as it happens he was out all night. Rather disappointing, really."

"Oh… okay."

"Is that it? Okay? You should be flattered anyone would go to so much effort for a mere slave."

"I-I'm not a slave anymore," Aerie insisted, "and, i-it's not like I've ever hidden anything. If people want to know about me, they just have to ask. I've never killed anyone for asking questions."

"Captured by slavers in early adolescence, sold to a circus owner for quite a large sum… although he got a discount after, when they were attempting to transfer you into the wagon, you stabbed your handler through the foot with a nail you'd worked loose, broke his nose with your chains and then bit half his ear off… doesn't really sound like the shy, timid, helpless little thing most people see when they look at you, does it?"

"It… i-it was foolish," Aerie sighed, closing her eyes, "one small, malnourished girl thinking she could take on a small army."

"Yes, I imagine you were punished quite severely," Anishai said with a soft smile. Aerie winced with her eyes still closed. "But they never succeeded in putting all those fires out, did they?"

"What… what is the point of telling me all this?" The Avariel huffed suddenly. "I-I thought you had another question? And, h-how did he find all that out, anyway?"

Anishai grinned; she'd asked a right question. "You see, dear, there are things in here that even you don't know. Such as, for example, the name of the elven ranger who shot you out of the sky, still, it so happens, in the employ of other slave traders to this day. The lieutenants who sat idly by as those in the cages around you succumbed to sickness and starvation, the captain whose whip finally broke you, and the Lord and Lady who profited from all of this. Would you be interested in knowing any of those things?"

Aerie didn't answer. She was frozen, although not out of fear anymore. She was staring straight ahead, her eyes seeming to have suddenly hardened like stones. Or perhaps it was more apt to say that she was looking back. Anishai started to read.

"Amra Nightstalker… one of those rather pretentious elven names. Storn Ironside… a dwarf, I'm guessing. Bran Cutler, Lureene Castle, Sebastian De'Arnise, Thazer Fezim…"

"Their names don't mean anything to me," Aerie announced suddenly. "I-I couldn't understand much of what was being said at the time, anyway. B-b-besides, i-it was a long time ago. Most of them are probably dead or old by now, anyway."

"Then tell me, in your opinion, do any of these people deserve to die?" Anishai lent in close, whispered in the elf's ear, felt her heart beat. It did excite her, the prospect of revenge or what she believed was justice after all these years. "Only say the word, dear, and I'll see to it. No charge… just a… deed done."

"W-why?" The elf gulped.

"No."

"W-what?"

"The answer to your question before. It was no. Never. But before I go I intend there to be at least one, just…" the assassin paused, leaning back. It was obvious Aerie wasn't going to answer her at all; too many thoughts and feelings colliding in that pretty little head right now. Anishai patted her on the cheek. "Well, think about it, won't you? But don't take too long."

"Does it say anything else in there?" Heads turned to greet Imoen, who Aerie had seen return from her meeting with Renal a little while ago. Anishai narrowed her eyes at the redhead, and so the elf then kept hers on the assassin. "Anything about me?" The redhead skipped, snatching the parchment right out of the assassin's hand; Aerie tensed, ready for any kind of reaction from the woman.

"Let's see now," the redhead beamed, "Imoen, twenty one… ohhh… creative and highly intelligent, it says. Well, they got that right for sure. I am pretty darn amazing," she said, beaming wider and wider, but then stopping as she read on. "'Occasionally shows signs of acute narcissism?' What? Who wrote this drivel? This is totally outrageous… they're obviously just jealous of my good looks and irrepressible charm."

"The only word they got wrong was 'acute'," Anishai said. Then, standing with her hands on her hips, started to eye Imoen from her toes all the way up. "Still," she said, winking.

"Erright… Aerie, you come with me. Now. Please. And you," Imoen slapped the parchments across Anishai's chest. "You take your little book and go and stand somewhere fifty or more metres away from me."

To everyone's surprise the assassin bowed gracefully, and left.

"You should be careful around her, Imoen," Aerie breathed out at last, "s-she's not just a bully like Tira. She's a real killer."

"'Ya don't say?"

"Well… y-yes, I do… say. S-she just told me. Just like that… she didn't even try to dress it up like anything."

"Don't worry about her, Aerrers; we've got more important things," Imoen smiled reassuringly, "we've got a guild. And about four hundred doilies, but don't worry about that either."

Aerie groaned worriedly. "I'll be honest; w-when I left the circus, I wasn't really expecting to become a thief…"

"When does life ever turn out like we expect? Fifteen years ago, I was expecting to be a pirate princess with my own castle by now. But this'll have to do instead. Anyway, this isn't just going to be a thieves guild anymore; it's going to be a good guild. A guild that does good things for people."

"What kind of things?"

"Well… any good things that need doing that people need us to do for them," Imoen crunched up her face, trying to make sense of what had just come out of her own mouth. "Ah… anyway, we'll figure out all the itty bitty details later. First," Imoen stood exactly where Aerie had been standing, scanning the streets below, "we gotta let people know that we're here to help. Also got to advertise for a new chef. So come on."

Mere moments later, a little girl who had been crying looked up, blinking as the light suddenly fell upon her face from where a crate had been. In its place were a blonde elf with the biggest blue eyes, and a red haired human with the biggest smile.

"Heya, kiddo," Imoen said. "Seem to have got yourself a nice little den. I used to have a den when I was small. A little place I could curl up in whenever I was upset or angry. So which are you?"

The girl curled up more, her arms tightly holding her knees as she uttered, "can't… c-can't talk to strangers."

"Strangers? What, you don't know who I am? It's me! Imoen!" The redhead announced proudly, but the girl just gave her a blank look. "Imoen? Nothing? Beh… and I thought this place was meant to be civilized."

"No, I don't know who you are," the girl spat out suddenly, "do you know who I am?"

"Well… no…"

"So then, we're strangers, ain't we? Go away."

"We're only strangers until you tell me your name. And since I already told you mine, I think it's only fair, ain't it?"

The girl couldn't refute Imoen, who was clearly well versed in child logic. "It's Jenny. My name is Jenny."

"Well then, heya, Jenny. I'm Imoen, and this is Aerie."

"Why are you crying, Jenny?" Aerie asked softly.

"It's because of my sister. She went away."

"Oh… I'm… I'm sorry…"

"It ain't like she's dead nothing. I mean, no one knows what happened to her. One day she was here, and the next day she was gone. I… I know it's horrible and I shouldn't think it but, some days I… some days I wish she was dead," the girl blurted, now hardly able to speak between the rocking and the sobbing and trying to catch, "be… because now… e-everyday, momma lays a place for her at the table, like she thinks she's going to walk right in. B-but she's been gone for months, so there's no way, right? And it's… it's just… so… so sad. And dad… h-he keeps getting worse as well…"

Aerie put her hand to her mouth; it did almost look like she was biting down on her own forefinger. And Imoen felt her friend shiver, like she'd gotten very cold suddenly. "Momma…" she heard her say.

"Aerie," Imoen nodded back. The two of them turned away a moment. "Y'know, you can go wait in the guild if you want…"

"No," the elf answered positively, "I-I'm fine, Imoen. Do… do you think there's any way we can help her?"

"Well… there's not much that goes in this city that Renal Bloodscalp doesn't seem to know something about. Although I really don't want to ask him for too many favours," she sighed, "we can but try, I suppose."

"Yes… I-I think we should…"

"C'mon, Jenny… let's take you home."