Chapter Sixteen: Wonders

The feeling fled as quickly as it had engulfed her. She had just killed a man – not the assassin, not the lieutenant but her. She was still holding on to the bow, refusing to let go of her murder weapon. There was the blood of the dead archer on her dress and on the floor, and the blood of the guard was also staining the dusty floor a couple of feet ahead. What had gotten into her? For her to kill a man and enjoy it, there was something definitely wrong with her. Whatever it was, she had to ignore it for the moment, for she could not possibly stay there with two dead bodies lying around. The street outside seemed deserted enough for her to just walk out and then run to the bureau. It would be a relatively simple task but for reasons she could not fully understand, she did not feel comfortable leaving the bow behind.

She picked up the extra arrows and the little basket in which they were carried and tied it around her back, like she had seen the archers in the Damascus do. She then proceeded to climb the ladder she had originally planned to use as a means of escape and started walking towards the bureau. She didn't need to do much jumping this time, for the buildings were almost always pressed together so it was not as tedious as the first time. In fact, the only thing that made her first time jumping through the rooftops was the assassin's attitude towards her. Always asking her to hurry and not caring when she got hurt, he was probably the most annoying person to travel with … and live with.

As she approached the bureau, she could almost feel the scolding she would get if Altair had beaten her. She could not think about what to say to Malik when he saw her. Not only did she seem to be dirtier there were light splatters of blood on her caused the body that magically fell from the sky. Who would believe such an excuse? Well, she did have the bow and arrows to prove her story but it was still farfetched.

It was as she stood merely two meters away from the bureau, one little gap away from her and her destination, that the loud bells started ringing alerting the city that an assassination had occurred. The same sound that accompanied her master's death was now ringing in her head again, causing her to almost lose her balance. To the population of Jerusalem the bells told them that one of their most influential men had been assassinated, to her the bells told her to get inside. And she did, she took her last jump and found herself on the rooftop of the bureau.

She would've gone inside right away, but she could see in the distance the white robed man she was so familiar with running towards the bureau with two guards trailing behind him. She was certain that as long as there were people chasing him there was no way he could go inside. Besides, he did not seem to be as agile whilst running as he was during the chase in Damascus. 'It must be his wound, slowing him down' Amira thought and did what she thought might be helpful.

She reached to the basket in her back and got one of the arrows she was carrying. She placed it on the bow, sloppily for she still had no idea just how to properly use her newly acquired weapon. She took aim, hoping she would not miss and released the hold on the strong. The arrow flew in the direction she had intended, a little bit more precise than anyone would have expect. With one hit, one of the men trailing Altair fell backwards, dead on the rooftops. The one behind him stared at the body with shock trying to figure out who had been responsible for such a thing. When he managed to locate Amira, she had already sent an arrow to greet him. Altair, who had not stopped running, joined her soon enough but instead of greeting her he simply tackled her causing them both to fall inside the bureau.

Amira landed on top of Altair who landed on top of the many pillows scattered around the floor. Their bodies where tightly pressed together and, if the footsteps rushing outside had been hushed, the moment would have been a little bit more awkward. When the guards left and their footsteps vanished, Altair pushed Amira off him with all his might. She landed on the floor next to him, cursing under her breath at his impoliteness.

"What do you think you were doing?!" he yelled at her as he got up from the floor.

"What the hell is your problem?!" Amira yelled in return, she had gotten up in an attempt to look taller though, when standing next to him she looked so much shorter than she truly was. "I helped you out, why do you have to be so –,"

"You helped me out? Know your place woman!" he yelled at her, enraged.

"And what the hell would that be?! What is my role to play here, assassin?"

"You are supposed to follow my orders. If I say you stay here then you do just that."

"You have no right to –,"

"Silence!" Malik screamed as he left his usual spot behind the counter, "You are quarreling like children." Annoyed as could be, he continued when they were finally silent. "I gave her permission to leave Altair, and as far as I recall my orders overrule yours. Now, do you really have time to be arguing with her? Shouldn't you be more concerned about other matters right now?"

Altair sighed and gave her a menacing glance before walking into the office. She stared at Malik, with an apologetic look on her face.

"I'm sorry," she whispered but he simply turned around and followed Altair. Oh, great, now he is mad at me too.

She took a seat against the wall of the bureau, still muttering apologies and curses to herself. He was too ill tempered, too impatient, too loud, too overbearing. Not even her father, who was as tall as him and probably more muscular, would raise his voice at her. He could yell at her, beat her and treat her like crap without her complaints, he was her father. But this man was just a stranger, a man who was holding her captive. They were not related and they were not involved with each other in any way. Well, I guess we are involved with each other, in a sick and twisted way.

She still failed at understanding why she was so attracted to him, as if there was a gravitational pull surrounding him – one that was much stronger than the one exerted by earth. Her thoughts, her feelings, all revolved around him in an erratic orbit. She wanted to be with him, but she could not stand being with him. He was overbearing and controlling, flaws that she had never been exposed to. He was distant and cold, a big contrast to her brother and his best friend. Even the lieutenant, who she had coexisted with for far less time, was nicer than he was. Yet, she did not have those uncontrollable feelings towards them. She could not explain, she did not care to explain but she needed to be with him. Needed.

"I am so pathetic," she whispered into the wind, closing her eyes as she realized silence was not going to offer words of comfort.

"You are not pathetic, girly," a voice from the roof said before the speaker decided to invite himself in. He landed flawlessly on the ground in front of her, his face bearing a big, wide smile. "You are just a little bit dumb."

***

"Was that necessary?" Malik asked Altair once they were both inside the confined room. "Was that really necessary? Do you have to strike a fight with her every chance you get?" He was not sounding half as mad as Altair thought he would be, he actually seemed to be more lenient than usual.

"Why did she leave this place? She was supposed to stay here." He said, trying to disguise the discontent in his voice as much as he could. He was not happy with the way things had turned out, not only did his target said – yet again – something cryptic, the girl he was meant to protect had her leash cut loose. He did not know her for long enough to be able to create a personality profile for her, but he had spent enough minutes of his life anguishing about just what would she do next to bring hazard to her existence.

"I gave her permission to leave," Malik said, not bothering to give much explanation behind his words. He may not know the girl, but he knew this man. Even though their relationship had been strained due to previous events, he could at least still tell when he was lying.

"Wasn't that a little bit irresponsible coming from you?" Altair complained, his arms folded across his chest. She knows how to get herself into trouble. I am almost certain she got herself into trouble.

"Unlike you, Altair, I am not irresponsible. I had my men trailing her since she left this place," Malik snapped back causing Altair to frown, ever more noticeably.

"Then, if you ask him about what happened during her little trip, then you would know why I am concerned," he said, now with a softer tone. He was trying too hard to hide the concern in his voice. Concern is weakness, he had told himself many times, and so he tried to stay away from it.

"I will catch up with that soon enough, Altair. But since when do you fear risks? I remember that, a certain occasion back when I was a healthy man, you loved to take unnecessary risks. But now you worry about this woman risking her life. Why, Altair? Is this really your way of showing concern – yelling and cursing? If it is, then I might have to add it to the list of things you cannot do right."

Feeling slightly insulted, Altair placed the marker in the counter, and stared at Malik, hoping he would change his topic of conversation.

"The job is done," he stated blankly, "I shall be leaving to Masyaf tomorrow morning."

***

"I am afraid you won't, master assassin, Altair," said the unexpected guest. He made his way into the room pulling Amira behind him. He was wearing a proud smirk on his face, as though he had accomplished the most admirable deed. Her face, unlike his, was showing utter confusion plus, though Altair was not sure if he was reading correctly, there seemed to be some humor in her face. He was holding her by the wrists, quite tightly at that, but she was showing no pain or no discomfort. Even when the lieutenant punched her, she did not seemed one bit as shaken as she was when they talked the night before. Her eyes focused on Malik, after meeting his for barely fractions of a second, her gaze curious.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Altair asked him, raising his voice to him like he had done with Amira.

Ahmed looked bemused by the frown on his face and so he softened it immediately. The few occasions he'd met with the man were very memorable, for their negative side rather than their positive side. Like Malik, that young man had a habit for contradicting everything he said. He loved to quarrel with him, and he was always willing to disobey his commands. Yet, everyone praised him. They all said how great of an assassin he would become, what a wonderful child he was. Everybody felt that way, even the master at some point, everyone except for Altair. To him, that fellow assassin would be nothing less and nothing more than a nuisance.

"It seems that your friend is a magnet for terrible things," he began to explain, leaning on the door frame. He gave a tug on Amira's wrist and she stumbled forwards, with a very much confused look on her face. She tried to smile at the people in the room but probably after seeing Altair's face, she gave up on the gesture.

"What about that woman?" he knew he shouldn't be too harsh on her, but sometimes he couldn't help it. It was not entirely in his nature to be mean, or cold, but someone like her and a man like him just couldn't possibly go along together. We come from different worlds.

"Well, apparently, Al Mualim is not the only one interested in her. Though I am sure you know that. Some Knights Templar came all the way to this city looking for her."

"What makes you think they are looking for her?" Altair questioned, his mood filtering into his words.

"The one in charge sent you a message saying: "It's time you hand back the girl, assassin." Ahmed replied with a smirk on his face.

***