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GOOD. STAY ON TRACK. I'M UPLOADING THE DATA INTO THE HELIX, STANDBY.
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OKAY, YOU'RE ALL SET. GOOD LUCK IN THERE. BECS SAYS CONTACT WITH MULTIPLE PIECES OF EDEN. YOU WILL BE SEARCHING FOR THEM THROUGH THE LIVES OF TWIN ASSASSINS EVIE AND JACOB FRYE. WE ARE DROPPING YOU IN AT THE STAMP OF THE FIRST RECORDED INCIDENT.
O.K.
BE CAREFUL.
… … … … SYNCHRONIZING WITH HELIX … … … …
… … … … INITIATING MEMORY SEQUENCE … … … …
The train jerks under Jacob's feet as he paces in front of the window, staring out into the rain, hardly listening to George and Evie discuss the plan of attack over a hasty drawing on a scrap of paper. It leaves him to his excited thoughts. He's finally going out into the field – with a mission, a target. Real assassin work.
…But nerves are as equally overpowering, and now more than ever, he can't stop his mind from cycling to a night – five, maybe six years ago, when he and his sister had watched an assassin draw his blade over his own throat.
It'll be different, of course. But what else has he to compare something like this to?
"We're almost there," George says, catching his attention and snapping him out of his thoughts.
"I have a plan," Evie replies eagerly, scrambling to her feet and dusting herself off.
"Good. Then let's go."
At the older man's words, Jacob pulls his cap off, tucking it into his coat as he pulls his hood over his head, and with that, the three assassins leave the train car. George and Evie are the first to climb to the top of the next carriage. The wind assaults him as he follows suit, catching his balance as he begins to move along the roof.
In careful silence, they creep onwards. Jacob can now see the faint outline of a factory roof rising above the trees ahead. Evie slows as they pass through stacks of boxes tied down in one carriage, all marked STARRICK INDUSTRIES. Jacob can't stop his lip from curling as he scans the red stamps, and when he catches Evie's eye he finds the same look reflected back at him.
They press forward, hunched forward against the whipping wind, granted a brief respite by dropping down into one of the half-empty coal carts. Good – they're getting close to the front of the train now. Suddenly, the coal mound shifts in one corner, and Jacob tenses, his gaze snapping towards the movement –
It's a woman and a man, clutching a small child close between them. He stops short, confused, caught between instincts for half a second too long. Wanting to kick himself, Jacob relaxes his wrist – the woman flinches as the hidden blade retracts with a sharp snnk.
"It's not safe here," he says urgently, approaching them, hands raised reassuringly outwards, trying not to appear too intimidating.
"Don't turn us in, please, sir." The man begs, his hollow, exhausted eyes bearing into Jacob. "They'll send us to the lab."
"We'll – we'll be on our way, 's soon as the train stops…" The woman's voice wavers.
"Make sure you do," Evie replies sharply, suddenly at Jacob's side. "You won't be received well where this train is going. You'll have to find your own way off."
A flash of inspiration strikes Jacob, and he catches hold of his sister's arm. "Wait. I have a better idea."
She arches an eyebrow, but follows without question as he scrambles up the coal pile, balancing precariously on the edge of the carriage before hopping down to the following one. It's a tight ledge, but both George and Evie follow him, gripping tightly to the new carriage.
Jacob crouches, casting a critical glance over the coupling. Can he pry it apart? He takes ahold of the metal, giving one hard yank. It doesn't budge.
Evie drops down beside him, leaning forward to help him as she realises what he's trying to do. Jacob readjusts his grip and the two of them tug together. It resists, at first, but quickly pops open, and the metal groans, suddenly released but still holding on. Flashing a grin at his sister, he rises, balancing on the precarious ledge, raising one foot…
With a well-placed kick, the coupling snaps, and within minutes, the detached carriages begin to lag behind.
They've reached the yard, and in the commotion over the lost carriages, manage to slip off and scale to the top of one of the warehouses. Wasting no time, Jacob keeps low, taking up the rear as they find shelter from the rain – and any potential eyes – beneath an awning built around a window.
Jacob catches his breath, and Evie points down into the yard. "Look."
He follows her gesture far below to see a man – it's not hard to see why he caught her eye, given that the bright, patchy emerald overcoat he wears is like a beacon even in the downpour. He's all but sandwiched between two guards who haul him across the yard. Jacob's gaze continues past them – and there. A gathering of people.
Evie takes that as an opportunity to move forward across the slippery roof, and Jacob hurries after her. The two of them approach the section of the roof under which the odd group are sheltering, and as they come within earshot, they hear a man's voice protest, "I need two more weeks with the device – at least! This is delicate work; it cannot be rushed—"
"Your questionable practices are beginning to draw unwanted attention," a woman's cold, clear voice cuts through the dull air like a knife. "You have been given more than enough time to achieve results, Sir David…"
"I was unaware you expected me to perform like a cocker spaniel!"
The twins flatten themselves against the roof as the guards suddenly round the corner and drag the man forward, and out of sight.
"Who are you?" The first man's voice demands.
"I was merely promised a tour of the premises, m'lords," comes the timid response. "J-Just ask who's in charge here – they'll tell you!"
One of the guards growls. "He's one o' Green's spies. I seen him around London."
The man's attempts to convince them otherwise fall on deaf ears as the woman speaks again. "Sir David," is what she repeats icily, cutting off the various voices. "I will return tomorrow."
"Miss Thorne—"
"If you have not unlocked the device's secrets by that time, then you may forget your dogs. I shall leave you to the wolves. Do you understand?" She doesn't wait for a reply. "Good day."
The woman emerges from beneath the roof then, obscured by a waterlogged parasol. One of the guards hurries to open the door of a waiting carriage for her, and as the carriage clatters away into the darkness, the man – who Jacob assumes has to be Brewster – barks out an order – "Get… him over to interrogation. Then to the lab."
Brewster storms off and enters another building in front of them, flanked by three guards, while the other two march their prisoner off in the other direction.
"We'll split up here," George says, suddenly behind the twins. "Jacob, Evie – you two find a way into the laboratory. With any luck, Brewster will lead us right to the apple, and we can complete both of our missions here today in one fell swoop. I'll take the guard quarters and we'll rendezvous here."
"We ought to help that bloke," Jacob says quietly.
"No deviations from the mission," Evie retorts, her eyes flashing. He opens his mouth to respond, but is interrupted by George laying a hand on his shoulder. He gives them both a tight nod.
"Good luck… assassins."
Off they go, silent and rapid as they scatter. George disappears into the cold rain, and the twins steal their way towards the far end of the yard, watching their feet on the slippery tiles, keeping low. All of the buildings are rough, imposing and indistinct – how they're going to figure out which one the laboratory's hidden in, Jacob has no idea. But then again, Evie looked at the map – she'll have to know.
They're arriving at what seems to be a less populated area of the yard – all of the guards seem to have retreated inside, away from the rain, into various quarters. The roundhouse looms before the twins, silent trains standing in the gathering darkness. Evie straightens, scanning their surroundings.
"The laboratory has to be in there," she tells him in a low voice. "Let's go and take a look."
They drop down from the top of the building and hurry across the yard, pressing themselves against the wall of the roundhouse as they edge towards one of the grand doors, still open. Voices reach them, and the twins duck down, keeping low now as they move from cover to cover, the trains providing it easily.
Evie glances over her shoulder, back at him, and suddenly moves, grasping his arm and pulling him forward. They all but throw themselves down into the indent of the tracks, and Evie keeps a hand on his shoulder, still tracking something behind them.
Jacob lifts his heads fractionally.
"It's Brewster," she hisses in his ear. "Don't move, we're too exposed here."
They still, and Jacob strains to hear the multiple footsteps that, alarmingly, seem to be heading straight for them. But maybe the rain makes it too difficult to make out their dark forms in the shadows, because the footsteps veer away, and a door slams open. The footsteps pass by on the other side of the train.
He can see their boots – three people – and finally the men themselves as they continue their hurried march to the far end of the roundhouse.
Evie gives him a rapid tap with the flat of her hand, and the twins scramble to their feet and begin to shadow after the scientist. The voices return, louder, annoyed, and as Jacob passes another hulking train, he catches a glimpse of who they belong to. Brewster, telling off two guards standing at a massive iron door. He seems to tire of this and waves them off, drawing a key and opening the door. With a heavy clank, it locks behind him and his two companions, leaving the guards standing there, rebuffed.
"That has to be it," Evie whispers.
"We need a key," he points out. Evie's brow furrows in concentration as she stares at the door, trying to come up with a plan, no doubt.
"Yes," she says, finally. "I will go and see if I can find anything. You look for another way in."
Jacob nods with a grin. "Have fun."
"Don't die," she responds shortly, rapidly retracing their steps, leaving him to his task. Jacob glances up – the rain patters mercilessly against the glass of the roof far above. If there's any place to start, it'll have to be there. Casting an unhappy glare at the guards blocking the door, Jacob slips out of the roundhouse and walks around to the side of the great building, trailing his hand against the wall, craning his neck to try to find a path up to the top.
Evie ghosts along the wall, holding her breath. She encounters very few guards in her path, and manages to duck into cover whenever any pass by too close for her liking. She wanders carefully through one of the buildings, straining to listen to any guards that might let slip of anything. Instead, she hears shouting.
She tenses, ensuring the coast is clear before scaling to the upper floor, stepping over the rickety railing, trying to make out what the voices are saying.
"Come off it! Give us an honest answer, or you'll regret it."
A quieter voice responds. "I don't know what you're talking about, mate."
A great clatter startles her ahead.
"Pick him back up," sneers a voice. Evie creeps closer to an open door where the voices seem to be coming from.
"Talk. Or you won't like making friends with these pliers, hm?"
Evie inches into the room, taking cover behind a stack of boxes and peering out into the room. Three guards stand around the man in the green coat from earlier, one with a pair of pliers clenched in one meaty fist.
"I can talk if you'd like," the man says quickly. "What would you like me to talk about? How about the weather, or—or my dear old mum! I'll tell you all about—"
The great big hulking man smashes his fist, with the pliers still clenched in it, across the unfortunate prisoner's face. The chair tips, but the other two men quickly take hold of it to stop it from falling a second time. The man lifts his head, disoriented and stunned, opening his mouth to speak again when his captor steps forward, grabbing one of his bound hands and fitting the mouth of the pliers around a fingernail. The man's face drops. "Wait, wait, wait-!"
Evie doesn't wait. She unhooks a small ball from her belt and hurls it towards the men – it bounces off the far wall and explodes into a cackling hissing spit of sparks, startling the men. She rushes forward, sweeping the biggest man's feet out from under him, her blade flashing out silver and returning red. She turns on the next man before her first victim has even hit the ground, and the blade flashes once more, making him stagger, clutching his stomach. The third man shouts out, reaching for his gun.
Evie ducks to the side just in the nick of time, and the bullet streaks past her in a terrifyingly loud burst of sparks and metal, embedding in the floorboards. Evie panics, withdrawing a throwing knife from her belt and hurling it without thinking. It hits him in the shoulder, forcing his next shot into the floor dangerously close to his foot.
The other man, his hands bloodied from the wound in his stomach, lurches at her, grabbing her coat collar and dragging her backwards, forcing her off-balance. Weeks of practice lacking, lack of experience of what this is like when your opponent is actually trying to kill you, it all comes together. But Evie desperately plunges her blade into his sternum, and then into his throat. He staggers back and falls. The third man is recovering. Cursing at herself, Evie springs towards him, slashing her hidden blade across his throat.
The room is silent. Evie stands there, panting, blood dripping from her leather glove, staining the pristine metal of her blade. The mens' twitching abates.
"Ah! Thank you kindly," the captive's voice makes her jump. She turns to him, the blood dripping from her hand. But the man doesn't seem to care. "I was in ever such a squeaky fix. And then what do you know – you rescue me."
She stands there mutely for a moment, relaxing her wrist and allowing the blade to spring back into its place. She tries to speak, but nothing comes out. Embarrassment makes her flush, and she turns away, angry and disoriented and realising she has just taken her first victims.
"M'lady? Perhaps you'd do me the favour of untying me?"
"I must go," she says in a strained voice, shaking hands withdrawing a white handkerchief which she dips in the bloody pool surrounding the biggest brute.
"Are you looking for the hidden laboratory?" The man asks hopefully. "Maybe I can help you, too?"
Right. The mission. Evie curses herself again and steadies herself, turning and squaring her stance, schooling her expression to neutral. "Perhaps. Where is it?"
The man leans forward as far as the ropes allow him, a spark now in his posture. "Well, I'm glad you asked! Untie me and then we can parley, m'lady."
"You offered," she points out, crossing her arms. It occurs to her that this is the first conversation she's held with a stranger in months beyond grocery shopping. "And I'm pressed for time."
The man lets out a sigh. "Fine. It's underneath the roundhouse. Requires a key. One of the guards nicked my double, cheeky sod."
Evie keeps her expression carefully neutral, though a flash of irritation rises – she's guessed that, and now she's wasted precious time here. At least now I'm sure. "Thank you," she forces out, turning away.
"Er—now untie me?"
"You got yourself in," she says brusquely. "I trust you can get yourself out again."
"Not to worry m'lady. I still recall a couple of tricks from my carnival days."
"Charming."
She turns away once more, but hardly makes it more than a few steps before she sighs, listening to him tipping the chair back and forth pathetically. There's no loss in helping him, she reminds herself, regretting being so curt. But when she turns around, the chair is empty, the ropes abandoned on the ground.
She rolls her eyes, and leaves the room, making her way down the stairs and around to the outside.
Jacob does one circle around the glass roof, occasionally pausing to try to pry open one of the heavy panels – with no luck. Besides, he grumbles to himself, it's far too high from here. There'd be no way to get down to the floor safely. He crosses to the opposite side of the roof, wincing at a soft creak underfoot, and is decidedly grateful to have his feet back on solid brick, even if the climb down is hardly appealing.
Taking a moment to shake back his hood to get the water off, he makes quick work of scaling down, landing heavily in the mud. Trailing one gloved hand across the bricks of the wall, he walks quickly alongside the back end of the building. No entrances. No secret alcoves that provide another entry. He turns to make the rounds one more time, but freezes as a boof scuffs across water and pavement around the corner. Whirling, Jacob braces himself to pounce in the split second he has to prepare…
And that's exactly what he does when the guard rounds the corner. Jacob clamps his hand around the man's mouth, pulling him back around the corner, away from the potential of a stray glance. The hidden blade activates, held to his throat, and the man kicks out in a desperate attempt to free himself, to scream –
But he only succeeds in impaling his own throat on Jacob's blade. It takes a moment to register in the sudden pause, but when it does, Jacob lurches backwards in shock. The man crumples to his knees, clutching at his neck as if he thinks he can stop the bleeding, blinking hard, staring uncomprehendingly at Jacob, a wet gurgle spilling from his lips.
He needs step forward to finish the job, end the poor sod's suffering. But he can't move, can only watch as the man collapses and convulses on and on, each minute dragging by as the life drains out of him.
And then, just like that, it's over.
With shaking hands, Jacob wipes the blood off his blade and steals away into the rain.
Jacob drops down beside her, and she tenses, sharing a glance with him. His glove is stained with blood, too.
"Whatever happened to 'no deviations from the mission?'" He manages.
Evie rolls her eyes, and they are themselves again.
"I was informed that the captive had information regarding the whereabouts of a key. I'm off to retrieve it now. Any luck for you?"
"I know where the laboratory is," he replies. "Let's get this key."
The twins steal into the dim light, Evie once more leading the way, filling each other in on their findings in the meantime. "Some guards have been talking about how mad Brewster is," Evie says softly as they enter a building, creeping around the edge of a train stopped within.
"Bloody well seems like it," Jacob remarks. "Sod's got this place well-protected, though."
"What're you doing?" An unfamiliar voice demands further down in the building. "Keep that key in your pocket, else Miss Thorne'll have your guts for garters."
"Then let's have a butcher's downstairs. I wanna see that artefact."
Evie gives him a nod, and the two break off, Jacob making his way to the top of the train and moving forward slowly, Evie coming up silently behind the guards.
"Oi," Jacob says to the two as he gazes down at them from the top of the train. Their attention snaps to him immediately. "I seem to've lost my way; any chance one of you lads could give me some direction?"
The cry of "intruder!" dies on the first one's lips as Evie sweeps his feet out from under him and plunges her blade into his throat. The second one crumples under Jacob weight as he leaps from atop the train. This time, the man's death at her hands is swift, and there are no mistakes.
Evie holds up the keys. "Shall we?"
Jacob's grin is strained, but it's a grin nonetheless. "Let's."
George should be at the rendezvous already. He's not. Jacob paces restlessly on the roof, ignoring Evie's third warning that he'll slip and break his neck on the soaked tiles. Finally, though, he spots the older assassin moving through the rain below and beckoning for them to come down. The twins obey immediately.
When they reach the ground, George grimly wipes blood from the corner of his mouth and sighs. "I'm getting old," he bluntly waves off their concern. Still, he doesn't look badly beat up, so Jacob sets those thoughts aside, and the trio press on.
Into the roundhouse, sneaking past the guards. It's Jacob who kills the man standing at the door – it's almost easier to brush it off, now, and his heart clenches as he briefly considers what that means. But with Evie and George at his side, he has no choice but to push on. Evie quickly slots the key into the keyhole, and with a heave, pushes the door open.
The three assassins slip in – but this is no laboratory. There are only piles of rubble and signs warning of workers overhead, and in front of them, some sort of elevator. They step into the rickety old thing, and George palms the large, crusty button. It groans to life, jerkily lowering them down, down, down…
Jacob clenches his fists nervously as it clanks and creaks down, but no host of Templar henchmen greet them when they reach the lower level. The hallway is deserted. They don't test their luck, and slip into the shadows, moving quickly.
The hairs on the back of Jacob's neck stand on end and he tenses, something pulsing in time with his heartbeat. Every part of him is on edge, and he instinctively looks to Evie, a mirror of his own expression on her face. The artefact, she mouths at him.
They press forward, but find the door to what Jacob assumes is the laboratory locked shut. Evie tries the key they'd nicked from the guards – no luck.
"Through there," George points to what appears to be a worker's hall of some sort. Not wanting to waste another second, the three assassins head for the opening. They're getting closer – and it's making his skin crawl.
"George," Evie whispers. "This doesn't go to the lab; it can't. We'll have to find another way. What about through there?"
Jacob looks to where she's gesturing. It certainly is no path, but if he squints, he can just about see a door or window further down amidst the chaos of the intertwining pipes. They don't need to speak. Instead, they start to move again, carefully weaving through the maze of piping, hopping over the gaps, and trying not to look down into the murky depths of the water below. It's probably not deep, but none of them have a mind to find out.
Soon enough, they make it to the opening – Jacob's initial impression of it from afar had been flattering. It's no door, simply a broken panel in the thick grating. Still, it's an opening nonetheless, and he ducks through it, squinting in the sudden light. He feels Evie's hand on his shoulder as she points to the other side of the room; his heart sinks. They have to get across the bloody place, with guards below them arguing heatedly.
Evie takes the jump first, landing almost catlike with barely the scuff of a boot. None of the guards look up, and she flows from her frozen balancing pose, lightly leaping across to the other side. Jacob's next.
Though he's loath to admit it, it's his father's meticulous teachings that keep his feet light as he lands just as silently. The guards directly below him aren't alerted. He glances up to give Evie a smirk before continuing on. After that, it's easy to make it across, and George soon joins them.
"Let's go," Evie whispers.
They make their way further into the laboratory, listening to the shouts coming from somewhere in the vast room.
"But, Sir David, it'll destabilise—"
"Miss Thorne wants results now!"
It's then that Jacob catches a brief glimpse of the two men through barriers and grates. They're on the level below; Brewster and an assistant, who scurries over to a hulking wall of wires and levers, and with a great heave, pulls one down.
Every sense that Jacob has screams out, making his head spin as a pulsing hum that he's only noticing now ramps up, seeming to reverberate through his entire body. He looks to George, uneasy. Then a bright light nearly blinds him, and he has to blink several times before he can suddenly make out a small orb above the two scientists. He shields his eyes, and it's only when the three assassins emerge above it that he realises he's been seeing it through the walls.
He's given no time to muse on that – something is happening now. Metal bends with a scream of protest, and suddenly Jacob is finding it extremely difficult to keep his balance. A piercing ache drives itself through his skull –
He hunches over, squeezing his eyes shut, trying not to fall—
Even despite that, he hears George slip. Even despite that, when his eyes snap open he sees Brewster, the assistant and several guards immediately whip around, shouts of "Assassins!" bouncing around within the cacophony of noises. He has only just begun to feel the fear in his chest, only just managed to grab George's arm before the older man falls, but Evie –
In a dark blur, Evie streaks past him, springing from her post on the pipe. Time almost seems to stutter, and suddenly she's on top of Brewster and Jacob can see the blood–
Cold.
Evie eases Brewster to the ground, the ground that simply is not there, yet he lays there, blood soaking his shirt collar and pooling beneath his shoulders, oozing out onto the whiteness.
What is this?
Evie looks around – they are alone.
No one else is here. She glances up; Jacob and George are gone.
"You will not stop Starrick," Brewster's strained voice echoes from everywhere around her. His eyes are wide, his chest heaving for air that is not forthcoming. "Miss Thorne has already found another piece of Eden, more powerful than the last."
She stares down at him. "We will take it. We will find a way."
He seems to accept this, the corner of his mouth turning upwards. "All I had… left to discover," he breathes, gazing up at the empty nothingness above.
"I will continue your experiment," she tells him gently, a pang in her chest. "I am sorry it came to this."
He does smile now. "We fight to gain what we cannot take with us. It's in our nature."
His face is pure calm. He has been clutching her forearm since she caught him, and his fingers tighten fractionally before his form begins to relax.
"Perhaps," he rasps. "I ought to thank you, for opening my eyes one last time, in such a… beautiful place."
"Where are we?" She asks gently.
"In God's Kingdom," he breathes, and he is gone. She takes his limp hand and crosses it over his other hand on his chest, dozens of questions unanswered. The ethereal whiteness begins to dissolve…
–Jacob is moving even before Evie straightens to face the guards alone. Before he can realise that none of the guards are even looking at his sister. He lands heavily on the ground and clenches his fists, rising to stand beside Evie, who's pale and unfocused. A thump behind them tells him that George has followed suit.
"Come on!" George shouts. "It's going to—"
He doesn't finish that sentence. An deep groan heaves its way through the air, rattling his skull. George shoves them both forward.
"Go!"
Jacob's blood roars in his ears as they sprint away from the body of David Brewster. The guards have had the same idea, but it's at the moment that the three assassins reach the massive doorway leading away from the room that the piece of Eden explodes. A guard in front of him is engulfed in a searing light and doesn't even get the chance to cry out before he collapses, twitching, leaving Jacob to hop over his body – dead or alive, Jacob has no idea.
There. There's a door ahead of them. Hope kindles. Evie points towards it with a shout that's lost in the fray, and Jacob is aware of George somewhere behind him.
But the floor beneath his feet jerks – and disappears.
He plunges into the water, the grating that had served for the floor spinning atop him as if desperately trying to drown him. He kicks it away, his head spinning, and makes for the surface.
He gasps, spluttering, the second his head breaks the surface and sweet, sweet air is drawn into his lungs.
"Come on!" His sister shouts to him as she kicks strongly for a pillar to climb. George is behind him, pushing him forward.
"We have to go," the mentor urges him. Reassured that they're all still here, Jacob follows Evie.
Finally, they're back onto the walkway, but the delay has cost them precious time that they don't have. George is now shoving him forward. Evie has already slid under rubble into what once must have been a passage, and Jacob follows suit – and the noise floods his ears, explosions shaking the world, and they're plunged into darkness.
open . spotify playlist / 4g65tjQPQOt1AQXXxIULui?si=0c0632b397694b4c
^^ Spotify playlist for Chapter One!