Chương 19: Chapter 20: Close Call

There's no time to think. Once they enter the catacombs, even if they don't see me, the dogs will smell me. Unless I hide myself so well they can't find me. But I don't know how much power this will take, how much energy it will drain. I haven't had enough time to expand my own power center, to reinforce my conduit channels. There's so much I don't know yet. This better not go horribly wrong. Backtracking, I huddle into the corner of the stone path. It's dark and on the south side of the entrance.

With any luck, they might not even come this way when they enter. Right now, despite how quiet I can be, despite the very nature of being an assassin and blending in, there is no way to get past those hounds and their handlers. The corner is made of stone that extends at least twelve feet up above me. Bits of rock and debris litter around the exact spot I wedge myself into. I stand as still as I can, back into the corner, my hands out in front of me against the walls to either side.

Splaying them out so I give myself breathing room. Then I reach my awareness out, beckoning to the stone, practically begging. I allow my power to flow through me, to suffuse both myself and the stone around me. And then I plead. Please conceal me. Envisioning the corner smoothed out with the stone extending up in a diagonal across where I am standing, I push that image into the plea. It's such a small area. I'm asking for much less space than I used to bury those bandits a while ago.

Theoretically it should require less energy. Definitely less chaos. I can feel the way it tugs on me, against the stone, pushing and writhing. Pulling through me, grating against the channels that were raw but a few days ago. The ground rumbles ever so slightly, and my breath comes in gasps. It leaves no room for me to practice my controlled inhalations. And suddenly, there's a stone wall at the edge of my fingertips. It's a tight space, but the seamless corner now sits about two feet from my face.

Not quite enough to trigger my own fear of small spaces. It has to be very tight for me to get worried. Since I can no longer see with my eyes, I have to rely on the feed from my link to the rocks and earth around me to funnel me information. I'm feeling so tired right now, but I'm not in pain like I was after defending myself and Xan from the bandits. This felt controlled, of my own volition. I can feel the footsteps approaching. Two sets of two legs, two sets of four.

Their voices come into focus—half hollow through the stone, distorted with the overlay of the sound carried on the air.

"Did you feel that?"

"What, the rumble? We're right next to the damn waterfalls."

"It wasn't that sort of—""Stop making shit up and direct your hound to sniff out the catacombs." I can hear that speaker doing something, shuffling a coat perhaps.

"We need to make sure this area is clear."

"I know. I know." There's a pause.

"Since when are the walls that smooth?" I can feel the proximity of another person right in front of me. With only the layer of rock wall less than ten minutes old to separate us, I can practically feel their heartbeats. It's all I can do to control my stomach. It's like now is the time it wants to announce its hunger. And the hunger is so bad I can feel cramps. I can hear the dogs scraping close to the wall; hear their snouts sniffling up against the stone. Breathing. In. And out.

It takes such effort to control it and not give into the panic that is very successfully trying to crawl up my back.

"Odd wall. Can't say I've noticed it before. Then again, I don't usually come this way when we turn in for our usual patrols."

"Right. Maybe I'm just jittery. The whole city's on high alert. Mayor Ryan isn't impressed." Ryan—the mayor is who spoke before my target took the podium. If I have the voice pegged, he's also who spoke to Aarron earlier. I'll have more time to analyze events once I'm out of here. Their voices begin to move away from me, their footsteps echoing back through the tunnels as they move. After what seems like an age, I allow myself to gulp in air.

"Thanks," I murmur, patting the brand-new stone partition in front of me. A small section of it crumbles away at the side, enabling me to squeeze out. If they're scouring the passageways under the city, it should take them at least an hour or two. Maybe even more. That's enough time for me to make it out and lose myself and my scent in the forest. I'll have to push myself, but I'll be fine. I've performed contracts with less energy than I have right now. But each step I take feels like it's trying to argue with me.

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Sap the remaining energy out of me. It's only a short walk to get back to where I was, and I head on the straight path to get out. Finally, I step out from the catacombs, and into the wide-open air at the basin of the waterfalls. It's right where the water gets partitioned off to run under the city. I clamber up the bank, encouraging the earth to erase my steps as I do so.

This is the wrong side though, which means I need to get to a good diving point. Both my pouch and my pipes are well attached and will withstand the water well. I secure the contract in with my vials too. It should be ashes, but something tells me whoever did this was counting on that rule. My body aches with fatigue, but if I don't cross to the other side now, I'm going to add hours onto my journey. The water bites into me as I cut through the surface.

Cold rips through my leathers, sucking them to my skin, weighing me down. Water is one of the elements I'm not sure about yet. There's something there, but it feels distant to me, like a soft muttering just out of reach. I don't know if I have the ability to communicate with it yet. It's more like a presence. Slowly, subtly watching—and waiting. I'm not sure I like how that feels. I swear it takes me longer to reach the other side than usual, and I drag myself onto the bank.

Heaving great breaths, I pull myself up, trying to ignore the shivering. Bone-deep weariness is starting to sink in. Luckily, I didn't overdo it, but at the same time, I wish I could lie down right now. I should have enough energy to make it back to the Enclave. Maybe even enough to hide myself if needed. Trees scatter around the outskirts of the basin, behind the mountain that forms the backbone of Korrien. I don't think I've ever been so relieved to see the backside of anything.

The density of the trees becomes thicker the farther I walk into the wood. Finally, in here, I feel like I can let my guard down. Even slightly. Here, where the earth and trees are all around me, up the side of the next mountain over, I feel at home. Soil beneath me feels softer. Leaves around me are crisper. Everything is more alive, seen through my lens now. I reach out, soaking in a minimal amount of energy, allowing myself to breathe. This much nature will warn me if I'm in danger. It knows me; it can feel me.

As much as I want to just let it cocoon me in a warm soil bed, I know I have to make it back to the Enclave. Another several miles of a hike up and toward the waterfalls will do it. I can't see the moon through the trees to tell what time it is. But from the reaction of the life teeming around me and my internal clock, about three hours have passed since the assassination. Who commissions a contract in a closed building for exhibition purposes? No one.

Whoever did this, they wanted the actual assassin to get caught. Hell, if I didn't have my abilities, I would have been caught. They searched everywhere I could have gone. And why was Aarron one of the observers? Was this set up to catch him too? Did he know how it would turn out? That contract was a death trap. A setup. And as soon as I get back to my room and into warm clothing that isn't waterlogged, I'll start figuring out who it was, and why they targeted me. Maybe I'll sleep some of this off, too.

I have a lot of questions for Aarron. It's still a good couple of hours back to the Enclave, even at a steady pace. My brain is tenacious about all trains of thought. I find myself hiking through the forest trying to piece together the puzzle of the contract that almost caught me. Exhausted as I am, my mind just won't stop. It wasn't I who was targeted. Whoever ordered this, with such specifics, they wanted the assassin to be caught. Any assassin. It didn't matter who.

Because if they catch the assassin, then they prove the Nightshade's presence in front of the Court for no one to refute. Sure, everyone knows we exist in that back of the alley, dagger-in-the-dark sort of way. But just because the Courts use our services all the time doesn't mean they like that they the Order is beyond their control. It doesn't mean that people want their eyes to be opened. Considering the exacting nature of this contract including the map, the sketch, the precise timing of the death?

That was a very specific and deliberate plan. A plan that, despite my penchant for following the order's rules, I haven't burned yet. While I'm sure I'll be reprimanded for going against protocol, I still have the contract on me. In my waterproofed pouch of potions. Can't risk rain or blood contaminating my poisons. The fact of the matter is that this was a meticulously planned attack on our guild. And I screwed it all up for them. I'd do it again too. Anyone other than me would have been caught.

I have no doubt of that. It takes all my restraint to not break into a jog, knowing that I don't actually have the energy to do it. I'll just collapse and pass out if I push myself too hard. Any reserve I had crumbled with the wall when I got out of my hiding place. Xan is gone on assignment with Minx for a few days, which means the only person I can confide in is Lennick. Backtracking several times, I cover my tracks to confuse anyone attempting to follow my trail.

I request the leaves and the earth to conceal my presence. I lay several red-herring directions just in case someone managed to follow me through the water and out the other side of the lake. When it comes to the Enclave location, I can't be too careful. Fatigue washes through me again, threatening to send me faceplanting into the soft earth beneath me. I'm sure I can draw strength or healing. It's certainly felt like I've done that before. But I'm so tired, I don't want to accidentally explode the ground.

I wonder if I'd have to ask the earth to catch me, or if it'd do it because it knows I could ask it. It's not much farther now. The ground begins to firm, more mountain than soil. My energy is gone, and I slump against the entrance door, activating the secret knock. Late night means we have someone standing guard duty. My stumbling draws the eye of Ellir from his guard position. He opens the door, allowing me in, and approaches me cautiously.

"Taria?" I can hear the concern in his voice, see the confusion in the way he holds himself. We do occasionally lose people from our Order, but we don't generally turn up looking half dead. I must look a sight.

"Contract completed, but there were complications. Barely got out. Just a bit tired," I manage to mumble. I'd expected Aarron to be here, waiting for me. Angry with me. But then again, he's probably still subject to interrogation. I mean, that Ryan person knows him. He's obviously aware of Aarron's actual identity. Perhaps the Prefect was attempting to distract them from searching for me in the capital. Maybe whoever orchestrated this is holding him for questioning.

Change of plans as I finally make it to my quarters. No shower. There's no way I'll stay awake long enough to finish. I'll take one when I wake up. Hefting the door closed behind me, I strip off my still-damp clothing wishing we had a material that was as versatile and dried faster. This is still wet, but my pouch is waxy, sealed, and safe. I have enough faculties left to set it in my side table drawer. Locking it, I clutch the key in my fist and slowly climb into bed.

The covers are soft as I pull them over my head, touching on tired skin, letting my head fall onto the plush pillow. Thoughts swirl in my mind, doubts eating at them. My eyes close even though I want to go over the night's events just one more time. No matter how much I want to stay awake, sleep tugs at me, and I let it lull me into slumber, my thoughts abuzz with one very specific question. Just who would benefit from the whole continent believing that Nightshade was in cahoots with the Blood Sect?