I don’t know whether it is my thought or theotherthat now resides inside me, but I remember what Aggie said about the commenia tree. One cannot thrive without the other. It feels so easy now, to reach where my power once crashed through the assassin, almost like walking a well-worn path. This time, I don’t send a raging typhoon, but instead a small, trickling stream.
The assassin visibly stills, his eyes going wide.
“What are…why are you doing that?” Hope and despair mingle on his face.
“Because I saved your life. I don’t wish you to live it in pain.”
“What do you mean you saved my life?” he asks, nostrils flaring. “As I recall, you tried to drown me on dry land.”
“It’s true,” Shaw says, stepping to my side. I can feel his questioning eyes on me, wondering where I’m going with this, but I don’t look at him. He’ll have to trust me. “I was going to finish you off and she stayed my hand.”
The assassin mulls this over. “So, I owe you a life debt, do I?”
I shrug. “It’s not my custom, so the choice would be yours.”
The assassin looks momentarily stunned, as if the direction of the evening has taken him entirely by surprise. After a pause, he says, “I will tell you what I can as payment for the debt.”
“Wait,” Shaw interrupts, “what of those you work for? Are they going to be hunting you down for spilling their secrets and failing your mission? And us, too, for harboring you?”
The assassin looks annoyed. “I work for no one but myself and whoever pays the highest. And I don’t believe anyone mentioned anything aboutharboring.”He crumples his face as if the word is distasteful.
Shaw narrows his eyes. “You work for no one? Who trained you then? Or were you born knowing how to split your soul and make men bleed?”
The assassin looks more thoughtful than offended, as if he is reassessing Shaw. “The same person trained me that trained all of us. A bloodthirsty beast that cared for nothing but their own power. Does it matter the name or which particular brand of beast?” He runs his gaze down Shaw, his eyes lingering on the latter’s chest. Where, beneath the layers of his shirts, lies the gnarled scar his father gave him.
Shaw snarls, but before he can move, the assassin shifts his attention back to me. “My name is Avedis,” he says, bowing as best he can with his hands tied together.
“Mirren,” Shaw warns as I move toward Avedis.
Avedis holds up his bound hands, a sign of surrender. “Don’t worry, my friend, I have no interest in having sea water shoved into my lungs again. Once was enough for a lifetime. I don’t think I’ll even be able to step foot in the Storven after this adventure.”
Shaw’s face turns mutinous at being called ‘friend’. I press my lips together to keep from laughing as I slice through the assassin’s binds. “I won’t apologize for drowning you,” I tell him, taking a step back with the dagger still firmly in my grip. “I think you rather deserved it at the time.”
He bows his head in agreement. “I’ll make no argument there,” he concedes. Now that he isn’t a snarling monster brandishing a sword, he’s downright charming. His tone is polite as though he were raised in a fine house, rather than whatever violent pit actually spawned him. “What is it you wish to know?”
Shaw steps forward and Avedis shakes his head. “Ah, ah. Not you, friend. I owe you nothing except perhaps a sword to the gut as recompense.”
“Call me ‘friend’ one more time and the lady’s well pled mercy will be forgotten,” Shaw growls, his face twisted in a terrifying sneer.
Avedis tilts his head innocently. “Are we not all friends here? I was under the impression that we’re just good chaps, exchanging a bit of Dark World gossip.”
I fight the urge to laugh at Shaw facing someone possibly more obnoxiously arrogant than he is, but instead I say his name quietly.
His burning gaze flicks to me and I look at him meaningfully. After a moment, the raging inferno tempers. “Very well,” he bites out and goes to stand by the door, crossing his arms and leaning against it in that assured way of his. The one that says even when relaxed, he is fully capable of tearing out your throat.
I turn back to Avedis. “You were hired to kill me.” Not a question. Avedis inclines his head in agreement. “Was it Jayan?”
His eyes are so dark, the pupils are practically indistinguishable from the irises. But they are no longer cold, instead seeming insatiably curious as he regards me. “Jayan. Unsavory little man. Power hungry with no actual power to back it up.” He states this lightly, as fact rather than conjecture. “No. I used him solely as a means of distraction. I told him of the Chancellor’s abduction and the prophecy and knew he would use it to try to seize power. Coups are generally very good distractions.”
“How did you know of it?”
“The wind told me,” Avedis replies with a deriding smile.
Shaw scoffs loudly. “Who hired you?”
“I never met them. They used various go-betweens, all high born Gireni, and never the same one. Whoever it was did not want to be connected to the job, which isn’t uncommon. I was told it was retribution for a political deal gone wrong, but what I’m told isn’t always the truth.”
“And you accepted?” Shaw spits disgustedly. “You work for yourself and yet possess no qualms about murdering helpless women?”
