Oops. I forgot to update. My bad.

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Chapter Fourteen: Preparations

"How did you get in here anyway?" Jacob said, leading the way back into the main room.

"I jumped down through the chimney," Henry replied, pointing to his robes, which now had smudges of black on it. It was going to take a few washes to remove the black marks. Another gift from Jacob Frye. "Wait – did you hear that?" he said, pausing momentarily, raising a hand in the air to call for silence.

Jacob paused. "Yeah, footsteps. Shit. Changeover shift."

"Changeover shift? You could've mentioned that earlier."

He shrugged, faking an apologetic look. "I forgot."

"Of course."

"Don't worry about it."

Raking a hand through his hair, Henry looked at the main door. It was hard to tell by the sound alone how many people were approaching, but he knew a fight was unavoidable. The chimney couldn't be climbed up and the windows had iron bars. Exiting through the main door was the only route of escape and that meant battling those who stepped through.

Jacob flexed his muscles, preparing himself to spring forward. Henry could see the glimmer of excitement in his eyes, and knew the younger Frye had been hoping for his moment. He, on the other hand, did not share the same level of enthusiasm. Allies of the Templars they were, but they were not Templars, and thus were innocent.

"These people are innocent, Jacob. Remember that," Henry advised.

"We're just going to rough them up a little, that's all," came his response. "How else do you plan to escape? Exchange kind words?"

The door flung open. There were two officers – one was a large brute with stern features, and the other a lean male with a monobrow. Both wore the traditional black uniform of the police, but had neglected to put on the helmet. "What the-" Jacob sprung forward, driving his right fist into the smaller man's left cheekbone. He followed up with attack with an uppercut punch then a swift knee to the stomach.

Henry attacked. He threw himself at the larger man, delivering a sharp kick to the shin bone. The man yelped, recovered then countered with a kick of his own. Henry evaded, stepping to the right, then spun around, punching the man in his right eye socket. He howled with pain, one hand clutching his eye, the other blindly striking at thin air.

Henry prepared to strike again, but Jacob tackled the man to the ground before he could land another blow. He straddled the man's waist then delivered two punches to the face then crawled off, rising to his feet. Drawing in deep breaths, Henry looked at the two fallen opponents. Both men were going to be feeling sore for the next couple of days.

The lean male on the floor tried to stand up, pointing a lazy finger at Jacob, murmuring something about revenge, when Jacob silenced him with a kick to the ribs. Knees curled up towards his chest, hands around the legs, pained groans filling the air. Just when Henry thought the battle was over, Jacob walked over to a chair, picked it up and smashed it over the larger brute's head. The chair splintered into pieces.

"That was for earlier," he spat.

Henry grabbed his arm. "Are you done now?"

"Yeah, I'm done."

Jacob threw the doors open and marched out, Henry following close behind. Some lights across the road opposite to the train station had switched on. He could see silhouettes of humans peering through the windows. He pulled his hood down then did the same for Jacob. "Avoid the street lights," Henry said, motioning towards the lights. "People are watching."

Jacob nodded, and darted over to the remains of a wagon, crouching behind it. Henry crept up behind him. "How did you even manage to get inside in the first place?"

"The lights weren't on then. The police must have heard a report from a local and turned them on during the changeover." He gestured towards the residential apartments on the opposite side. "We'll have to a bit. See there on the top floor? We've attracted a bit of attention."

Jacob looked in the direction Henry was pointing at. A few more lights had turned on. One window even opened, an elderly woman sticking her head out through the opening. She yelled a few words Henry didn't want to repeat aloud. Jacob inched forward. Henry grabbed his arm and held him back. "What did she say? A skelpie-limmer? What's that?"

"You don't want to know," Henry said. It had been awhile since he heard anyone use that insult before. It meant a badly behaved child, and he was sure there'd be trouble if Jacob knew what the term implied. He was never one to take insults kindly, seeming to take personal offense whenever one came his way. "Okay, the lights are off. We can move." He gently pushed Jacob forward.

They jogged across the street and made their way towards the bridge. The air was cool and refreshing – the usual aftermath after an afternoon of heavy rain. Once they reached the bridge, Jacob climbed on top of the eastern railing and threw his hands up in the air, eyes alight with mirth. "That was fucking awesome, don't you think?" he crowed.

"We were incredibly lucky. Don't go celebrating yet – the Templars will retaliate."

He lowered his arms, and stretched his right arm forward, moving it across from left to right. "In a few short weeks, this entire city will be ours, Henry. No more Templars. Freedom for all people. Equal pay, equal rights. Slavery abolished. We don't even need a Brotherhood anymore." He jumped down from the railing and strode back towards Henry, head tilted forward, forming a fist with his left hand. "I say, let the Templars come. Let the rivers turn red with the blood of our enemies."

"There's going to be a war."

"We'll be ready for it."

"And the Rooks? Do you believe they'll be ready? Can you trust them?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"I've led men into battle before, Jacob. It's not as simple as you believe it to be. How you decide to make your next move will determine how loyal your men remain." He moved in closer, giving the younger Frye a pleading look. "We can't reverse what damage has already been done, but all I ask is that you plan your next move wisely. One mistake and your cause is lost."

He started heading back to the Seven Bells then stopped to glance over his shoulder to see if Jacob was following. The younger Assassin remained in place, brows furrowed in deep thought. Jacob looked up. For a moment, Henry felt a rush of concern. Had his words hit their mark? "Thanks Henry. I mean it. For tonight. You still have the skills," he said. For once, he actually sounded sincere. Perhaps there was still hope after all.

The corners of his mouth curved upwards into a brief smile. "Good to know. Now come on, we should return before your sister finds us both."

.

Teaching the Rooks was like teaching young children – difficult. She would have their attention for about ten to fifteen minutes then their attention would waver elsewhere, and she'd have to dangle a bag of coins in front of them to hold it once more. They were eager to learn at least, but they didn't seem interested in being lectured.

All the Rooks – a total of twenty including Charles, Abraham and Tiny – sat before her. There were four rows of five chairs. Curious eyes locked on her face, each Rook waiting for her to speak once more. The past twenty four hours had been spent learning names and life stories. More than half the group consisted of ex-criminals. The remaining few worked for Templars, but only because they had little choice.

"Miss Frye, why do you wear a hood?"

Evie rolled her neck to the left, eyes focusing on a Rook called Louis Tomlinson, a dirty blond male who was always last to the breakfast table. "I wear a hood to make it harder for our enemies to recognize me," she explained.

A Rook called Niall Horan raised his hand. His hair was a shade lighter than Louis's and slicked back. "Miss Frye, why are we fighting the Templars? Why don't we become Templars instead?"

Good question. What was the best way to describe to criminals what the Assassins represented? Somehow, she didn't think a brief history of Assassins of the past would make them care much. Hmm. She rubbed her chin, contemplating her next choice of words. She needed to provide an easy example otherwise it would just lead to more questions and the cycle would never end.

"Templars seek to make the gap between rich and poor people wider," she said slowly, so the Rooks would be able to keep up. "Templars own many of the businesses and services in this city. They employ poor people to work for them because they know the poor are in a desperate need of money. However, they only pay just enough money for the worker to survive. The hours are long and hard, and the conditions are filthy. Working for pay is no crime in its self, but the distribution of wealth is unfair."

The Rooks nodded. "That's not very nice of them, Miss Frye," said Louis. "But why can't we become Templars instead?" All the Rooks turned back to face her again, all eager to hear what she had to say.

"The Templars don't just welcome you into their ranks," she started. "You need to swear an oath before the grandmaster and prove yourself worthy if you wish to be part of their Order. Templars seek to control everything around them, no matter what the cost may be. That's why you're here in this room right now – You're helping my brother and I take back this city so we can all be free of their tyranny."

"But how do we fight the Templars, Miss Frye?" said Charles. "We don't have any weapons."

Other Rooks expressed the same concern. These men were not trained fighters like her brother and herself. All they knew was the basic hand-to-combat but that would not be enough. They would need to be trained and tested, to see if they could handle a real battle against the Blighters. "We'll find weapons. We'll visit a Templar stronghold and clean it out."

The question was where were these strongholds? London was a big city. It would take days to search every secret, and there was no guarantee they'd find everything. Maps were required, but that itself was no easy task. The maps were probably stored within a Templar base. "Miss Frye, are you the elder twin?" another Rook asked. His name was Liam Payne, another blond Rook. This one had been recruited by her brother at The Thistle's Crown.

Raising a brow, Evie smiled. "Yes, I am."

"Not that it really matters though because everyone knows age means nothing in the end," said another voice.

She turned her head towards the source and found her brother and Henry standing a few metres away from the entrance. A wave of relief washed over her. Alive and well. "And that will be all for today," Evie said, turning her back to the Rooks. The Rooks all groaned, disappointed. None of them moved from their chairs.

"We want to know how to fight," Louis said.

"Yeah, we want to help you take down the Templars once and for all," said another.

She turned to her brother for support. He just grinned at her. Of course. This was amusing to him. She responded with a glare and mouthed the words 'talk later' then turned back to the Rooks again. For the first time, words failed her. She hadn't been expecting such a strong enthusiastic response, considering half of them had fallen asleep during yesterday's lesson. "We'll talk about fighting."

The Rooks all looked at her with confusion. "Talk about fighting?"

"How does that help?"

Jacob moved forward coming to his sister's side, a teasing smirk on his face. He winked then turned to the Rooks, raising one hand in the air to call for silence. "We'll have a mini fighting tournament. You can all have a try at fighting me. The man who manages to ground me will earn this pouch of money in addition to what you'll be getting paid," he said, pulling out a pouch of pounds.

"But boss, I don't want to hit you," said Liam.

"Yeah, don't you think that's a little unfair?" Abraham questioned. Others murmured in agreement. "It's not like we're going to stand much of a chance."

"You lads need to know how to fight properly – if we are going to withstand their forces, we'll have to beat them at their own game. You won't find a tougher opponent than myself," Jacob explained. "All of you – up. Move the chairs back to their tables and form a circle in the centre of the floor." He then leaned in over to her and whispered, "Henry will fill you in the details."

There was a sea of movement as the Rooks did as asked. Not one voiced a complaint. They were truly like children. Obedient and eager to please. Once the chairs were put back to their original places, Jacob moved to the centre of the room as they formed a circle around him.

"Shall we play a round of rock-paper-scissors to determine pecking order?" Charles suggested.

Jacob shook his head. "No time for games, Charles. Just for that, you can be first."

Evie's eyes met Henry's. She could read him easily. Fun and games now, but how long would the peace last?

.

Bloody Nora slammed a fist on the table. "Gone, gone?! What do you mean 'gone'?" she snapped, fixing her dark eyes on Isaac. The man had a swollen eye and a black bruise beneath it, while his companion, a lean man with boyish features looked like he wanted to go home and cry. "This station was supposed to have been guarded! Where were the officers?!" If they had fallen asleep on the job, then she was going to use them later for target practice.

"We found Caleb and Richard unconscious," Isaac said. "Someone had broken into the cells."

"But no windows were broken," Nora commented. Useless police. Why had she hired them again? Oh, right, it was to enforce the law and help recruit labourers for the Templar cause, but they had been doing a bloody poor job of it! "Assassins. Fuckin' assassins," she cursed. Of course, why hadn't she seen it earlier? There wouldn't be just one Assassin working alone.

"We can still fix this. We just have to-"

Bloody Nora cut him off. "There won't be a next time, Isaac! You don't know how these Assassins work! They work together in the shadows, and they stick together like peas in a pod. One must've come down through the chimney. Your men are to blame for this. If they had been doing their jobs properly and guarding our only prisoner then he would still be in that cell!" she rasped.

That wasn't the worst of it either. The damn criminals had stolen the maps which highlighted where the seven strongholds were found. Now the Assassins would know where to look and which places to target next. Their target would most likely be the Strand next since they would be weakened without their leader. She'd have to send more of her own men to protect the Strand thus lowering her defences here in Lambeth. Bloody fools!

"If you men want to keep your jobs then you will do exactly as I say," she hissed.

"Anything," Isaac replied.

Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she drew in a deep shuddering breath then exhaled. "Robert Strain is dead. His borough, the Strand, will be vulnerable. I believe the Assassins will target the Steelworks Factory there. I've sent word to Thomas Burke and his men to defend the area until my Templars arrive."

"But Thomas will leave Westminster vulnerable."

She poked him in the chest. "You are going to take your men to Westminster, and you will meet up with Mark Thompson and his forces. I can't afford to have your department make a mess of things again. You'll do what you were hired to do – enforce the law in Westminster until Thomas and his men return. Shoot anyone that looks remotely suspicious. The time for games had ended." The Assassins had made the first move by killing Strain. Now it was her time counter with force. She was going to make them regret having come here onto her city.

"You're going to start a war in the streets," Isaac said slowly.

"Templars and Assassins fought a decade ago. The Assassins were defeated and driven out. We can defeat them again because our Order is the way of the future."

"What if the Assassins win?"

So far, luck had been on the side of the Assassins. One high-ranking Templar dead, several more severely wounded, and a number of Templar allies had gone missing. Either their deaths had been unaccounted for or they had switched their loyalties. This required a sweep of the other districts to see who was still loyal to the Order and who would happily turn away if offered a better price.

"They won't win."

"But you don't know that."

She glowered. "The Assassins will think they have won a victory here this week, but a war is not so easily won. They've made the first step, and have exposed themselves. They think they have the upper hand, but history will repeat itself. The Assassins will lose and it will be by their hand own hand."

War was fast approaching, that much was certain. Templars and Assassins would once again come face to face in the ultimate showdown for territory and control. A decade ago the British Assassins had tried to defeat the Templars, but it had ended horribly wrong for them thanks to overconfidence which led to a critical mistake. She had only been sixteen at the time, but she remembered the murders as if they had happened yesterday.

"Do you remember who attacked you?"

"Jacob Frye and an Indian man. Quiet as an owl, and moved so fast, he was almost a blur."

So Henry Green was still lurking around in London, even after all these years. Curling her fingers into a fist, she did her best to control her anger. Henry Green, the traitor, the undercover agent. He was supposed to have been working for the Templars, but the entire time he had been selling their secrets to the British Brotherhood. Assassins and Templars were supposed to be working together to build the world's first underground tunnel.

That alliance ended the day Henry Green killed her father, after believing he had uncovered a Piece of Eden. That's what triggered hostilities to arise. Nora claimed the seat of power of the Templars by forming the gang, the Blighters. Out powered and outnumbered, the Assassins were forced to retreat, thus leading to the demise of the British Brotherhood.

"It seems I haven't done my job as well as I had thought," she said, now talking more to herself than to Isaac. "Your men may still be of use to me yet after all, Isaac. Now go, rally your men and head to Westminster. I'll summon for you when your services are required." She shooed him off. He and his companion left the room without a word. They knew better than to argue. At least they listened well.

Soon, the rivers would run red with the blood of the enemy.

.

"Who are you going to take out with a hit like that?" her brother demanded, standing over the fallen tired body of a young Rook. There were now six men on the floor, all battered and bruised, thanks to Jacob's teachings. The remaining four Rooks all look terrified – her brother hadn't even broken a sweat. "Try again."

While Jacob busied himself with the Rooks, Evie and Henry put their heads together to formulate a strategy. The maps of seven boroughs were laid out on the tables, each one circled in black ink. Evie laid a finger on the Strand. "This should be our next target area. Robert Strain was its leader. Without him, they'll be weaker and much easier to take over for the taking." She glanced down at the circle. There was a factory nearby.

"You'll be able to recruit many men and women working in the steel factory," Henry pointed out.

"We'll have to be careful. There'll be a lot of innocent people here, children included. They could easily get caught in the crossfire."

"Two entrances inside the factory. Your brother could lead the bulk and distract the main guards, and you can enter through the back and take out the leader while the others are distracted," Henry said. He brought his finger to the factory and dragged it to the right. "I've walked past it before. There's a back door entrance through a narrow pathway. Let your brother and the Rooks take care of the threat, and you can sneak in."

"He'll enjoy that," she said, sparing a glance in her brother's direction. He was yelling orders at a young Rook who looked hesitant to strike the boss. Jacob shoved him roughly into a table and yelled a bit more. One of his words must've struck deep because the Rook fought back, throwing a wild punch. Jacob easily defended himself against it, but he seemed impressed, giving the boy a clap on the shoulder. She turned away back to the maps.

"At least they haven't broken anything," Henry said. "Yet," he added as an afterthought.

"Let's just hope it stays that way otherwise the Rooks will be staying here and cleaning up instead," she replied dryly.

He gave a light-hearted chuckle then his expression grew solemn. "Tomorrow will not be an easy task. Everything will depend on your brother and the Rooks getting the job done correctly – timing is of utter importance here. Strike too early and you'll miss your chance."

She nodded then glanced up. "You're going to stay here then."

"Someone will need to help Paul prepare the bar for your arrival." He then gestured to the map again. "This map is missing one thing – the location of the main borough of Bloody Nora. We know it's in Whitechapel, but whereabouts? I will look into it while you and your brother carry out your tasks. Perhaps we will here of gossip as well."

She watched her brother again. Now only one Rook remained. The Rook was doing his best to strike at her brother, but he was missing every punch. Jacob waited until the man tired then struck back, tripping him over onto the ground with his right leg. He threw his fists up in the air. "Someone really ought to teach him a lesson," she said.

Henry raised a questioning brow. "You wish to see your brother lose?"

"It could be good for him. It'd be good for the Rooks as well. They need a morale boost after that defeat," she said, drawing Henry's attention to the fallen Rooks on the ground. She turned her head to face him, an idea forming in her mind. "Why don't you have a go?"

"You want me to fight your brother?"

"You'll need to test your skills. If the Blighters learn we're stationed here, they'll come. You said it yourself – we're responsible for these people and this bar now. We have to protect them from harm."

"Are you implying that I might be rusty?"

She smiled. "Maybe."

"You are a cruel woman, Evie Frye," he said, attempting to sound serious, but failed to stop a smile spreading across his face. "Your brother does owe me a few pounds after last night's incident."

Pleased, Evie walked over to Jacob and tapped him on the back. He spun around, and instinctively threw a punch. She ducked, narrowly avoiding a collision with his fist. "Shit, Evie. Don't do that. You know I hate it when you sneak up on me like that," he said, lowering his arms. "So, what's happening in that head of yours?"

"How about I tell you afterwards? You haven't finished here yet."

He frowned. "Yes, I have. No one was able to win the prize." She rolled her head towards Henry then turned back. Jacob raised both eyebrows. "Oh, come on. You can't be serious. You want me to fight Henry?"

"Is that fear I hear in your tone?" she teased.

"I'm not frightened."

She sighed. Once again, Jacob missed out on the sarcasm. "Settle down, brother. It'll be good training for you – besides, the Rooks look up to you. You're their leader, remember? You need to show them you can handle anything." Playing to her brother's ego always worked. He would never choose to turn down a fight if it gave him the chance to show off a little more.

"Fine."

"Great. I'll judge the match and set the rules."

.

No eye gouging. No head butting. No chair throwing. No cheap hits below the belt. No hair pulling. No spitting. And of course, no brass knuckles. Evie had drawn a line through almost every fighting technique he used. She wanted it to be a 'fair fight'. He would've laughed if she didn't look so serious about it. A fair fight. Such a thing did not exist. When in a fight, you had to use everything you had your disposal to gain the advantage. There were no rules in a brawl.

The Rooks had all climbed to their feet. Some of them grabbed chairs to sit down, while those who hadn't sustained too many hits stood. No one wanted to miss this. Even Paul and Clara had come over to watch. Clara was sitting on the counter while her father remained behind. Henry stood opposite to him, his expression unreadable. Evie stood to the right next to Liam and Louis.

"Remember, no cheap hits. Keep it clean, boys." She took a few steps back, and motioned for the Rooks to do the same as well. The circle around them was at least four metres in diameter, giving them more than enough room to evade, tumble and roll. "All right, you may begin."

The last Assassin he had fought in battle had been Evie, and he had hoped she would be the last. Fighting against other Assassins was unlike fighting in a brawl in a dark alleyway. For starters, brawlers lacked the speed Assassins possessed. Common street thugs also lacked awareness. Assassins were able to predict moves and counter or evade, whilst the average thug took the hit.

Henry circled him, knees slightly bent, eyes fixated on his face. Jacob hadn't seen much of Henry's fighting skill set since the man seemed to avoid combat as much as possible. He knew better than to believe he had the advantage – Henry might have avoided combat in recent years, but he was a few years older and a Master Assassin of the Indian Brotherhood. It was best to be cautious.

Henry leapt forward, swinging a horizontal punch. Jacob pulled back then countered, throwing a punch of his own which Henry easily avoided. This was the testing stage. Henry was testing him, and Jacob was doing the same in return. This time, he made the first move. Curling his fingers into a fist again, he sprung forward, and swung his right arm.

The elder Assassin sidestepped to the right, allowing Jacob's punch to fly directly past him. He countered quickly with a punch, but Jacob expected that, and rotated his body just enough to evade. He acted quickly and made a grab for Henry's arm to deliver a strike at the elbow joint. A hiss of pain left through Henry's lips. Still holding his arm, Jacob pulled him close then brought up a knee, drilling it into his friend's stomach.

"Is this all you have?" he taunted, drawing back to allow Henry to recover. A part of him was curious to see if this was just an act, or if this really was it. If it was the latter then he at least wanted Henry to get one strike in to make things interesting for the spectators.

Henry straightened, drawing in a few deep breaths. He dove forward, but instead of aiming a punch, he dropped to the ground, and used his legs to attack, bringing them around, to sweep him off his feet. Jacob jumped, bringing his knees up high to avoid Henry's legs. Henry climbed to his feet quickly, and leaped forward. Jabbing a fist forward, he hoped to hit Henry during his recovery phase, but the man rotated out of harm's way, then countered, coming up behind to kick behind the knees.

"Come on, Henry!"

"Go boss!"

The Rooks were cheering. He expected them all to be cheering him on since he was their leader, but some of them were rooting for Henry instead. A foot struck him in the back of his right knee. With a hiss, he spun around, and attempted to kick Henry aside, but the man rolled out of range. He climbed to his feet. It then dawned on him Henry was still testing.

"You're not as slow as I assumed you'd be," Jacob said.

Henry grinned. "Never underestimate your opponent."

The man sprung forward again, using his right arm to drive a fist forward. Jacob dodged, spun around and kicked him in the side, throwing his opponent off balance. Henry staggered forwards a few inches, recovered, then turned around just in time to throw his hands up defensively to block another jab.

Lifting a leg, he kicked forth. His foot connected with Henry's stomach, pushing him back a little. Henry toppled over and landed on his back. Usually at this point in the battle, his opponent would be feeling exhausted and frustrated, but Henry was showing no signs of either, despite being the one on the ground. Perhaps he was in better shape than he originally assumed. No matter, he told himself. He could still win this.

All he had to do now was hold down Henry on the ground for long enough to win the match. If he couldn't get up, then he couldn't fight. "It's been a fair fight, Henry, but I win this round." Jacob stood over Henry then sat down, straddling his waist and pinned both arms to the ground. "Evie, start the countdown. He has ten seconds."

Henry tried to force Jacob off him, but he didn't have the physical strength to overpower, especially not whilst both arms were pinned to the floor. Five seconds passed by. He lessened his grip just a little since Henry didn't appear to bother trying to fight back. Three seconds left. He thought the battle was one when Henry did something unexpected – he brought his head up and rammed him in the forehead.

It was enough for Henry to push him off and gain the upper hand. With a growl of fury, he threw himself at Henry once more, and tried to pummel him into the floor with both fists. Henry brought a knee up in time, striking him squarely below the belt. That was unexpected. He rolled to the side, clamping his jaw shut, trying hard not to show any form of weakness before his recruits. "Session over," he managed to speak through clenched teeth.

No one argued. No one even spoke. He heard shuffling, and knew they were leaving. Good. Right now all he wanted was to be left alone. Losing the fight was bad enough, but to lose in front of those he led was even worse. Lying motionless on the ground, he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will away the nausea that gripped his mind.

.

Henry glanced at Evie. "Well, that is settled. Now we can look towards the future." Jacob remained on the ground, motionless. When he recovered, Henry suspected the younger Frye would be in a sour mood. Fortunately, Evie was there to stop her brother should he try and create any conflict. He felt a rare pang of sympathy for Jacob. Jacob had a natural ability to be annoying, but his heart was in a good place.

Evie looked back, a rare smile spread across her face. "You know he's not going to give you any coin."

"That doesn't surprise me, but it is of no concern. Coin isn't my motivation." He drew her attention to the maps still lying spread out on the table. "Put them away. We don't want unwanted eyes stumbling across them." Evie nodded, and moved over to the table to recollect the maps. She folded them up and tucked them within a pocket in her coat.

"Something has been on my mind," she said, sitting down.

Henry sat down opposite to her and frowned. "What is it?"

"Clara mentioned something about a Templar called Lucy Thorne earlier on."

"You're referring to the Pieces of Eden."

Evie nodded. "Yes."

"That look in your eyes tells me you want to seek Lucy Thorne out and question her yourself." Which would be a bad idea leading to truths he didn't want being shared about his own role in the war between Assassins and Templars. The time wasn't right yet. He wasn't sure if it ever would be either. "We should be focusing on planning for tomorrow, Evie. Lucy Thorne isn't a threat to us. She might be a Templar, but she's not a Blighter."

"She's still a threat, Henry. What if the Blighters are just a distraction from the real problem? If the Templars obtain these Pieces of Eden then we'll lose this fight. As skilled as I am, even I wouldn't be able to stop them." She rubbed her chin, her lips pressed into a thin line. He knew that look all too well. Evie was troubled. "What if this is the reason the Templars are even here in London? They heard there was a Piece of Eden here and they came to retrieve it. That's why the Brotherhood established a base here."

Her thoughts were wandering into dangerous territory. She was smart – sooner than later, she'd pull the pieces of the puzzle together and realize it was Henry who had caused the fight to happen. "We can worry about the Pieces of Eden afterwards. Your brother is leading the Rooks into a warzone tomorrow, and he'll need your help. You can't be off searching for the Pieces of Eden and leave him alone. You know how that ended last time you left him to wander on his own."

She pushed back a strand of loose hair behind her right ear and sighed. "I know. It just troubles me to think of the Pieces of Eden falling into the wrong hands. When business with the Blighters has died down, I'd like to find Lucy Thorne and speak with her."

"Will you bring your brother along?"

Evie cast her brother a glance then shook her head. "No. He thinks they're just artefacts of a myth. He'll have no interest in coming with me to pay Lucy Thorne a visit. He can stay here. This is something I must do on my own." She rose up from her table and started heading towards the kitchen area when Henry stepped out in front of her path.

"You're not thinking of leaving now, are you?"

She shook her head. "I'm going to speak with Clara, and see what else she knows then I'm heading to my room. Sleep well, Henry. I will see you tomorrow morning." She moved past him. Henry turned around and watched her leave. Knowing Evie, she'd successfully find Lucy Thorne and learn things he didn't want Evie to know about. If she learned the truth, how would she react and would she ever trust him again?