Chương 20: Chapter 21: Discoveries

"Taria…" The voice doesn't sound familiar, but that could be because of how groggy my head feels. It's heavy and strangely close to what I believe a full-blown night of imbibing on alcohol would result in. Pity I don't have the revelry as a prize.

"Taria." This time it's more forceful, and I sit up in bed, realizing two things. First up, I've still got the key clenched in my fist, and it's oddly difficult and painful to open my hand. Secondly, I only have a shift on. Pulling my blankets up to my chest, I glower at Lennick, who stands in my doorway. I must have forgotten to lock it. From what I can tell, the sun has only just begun to filter light through to the world. It's evident from the weak stream shining in through my wall slit.

"What?" He smiles hesitantly.

"Did you report to Aarron after your contract last night?" I blink at my mentor and all the events of the night are suddenly crystal clear and back in my head.

"No. Last night wasn't…" I'm unsure how to express what I want to say.

"Give me a minute." Lennick obliges and I shut the door in his face. I pull a light set of dark linens on, not wanting to take the time to bind into another set of leathers. Finally, I pry the key out of my hands and fish my pouch out of my side table. Tugging my door a little too hard, it swings open abruptly. I overbalance slightly, and need to lean on the bed. The fatigue isn't so bad today, but I can still tell I haven't built up enough resilience yet.

Using this power yesterday drained me regardless how careful I thought I was being. However, my shoulder and thigh muscles are protesting loudly. In my defense, though, I didn't expect to have to climb down a dumbwaiter shaft.

"He's not back yet, is he?" I phrase it as a question, despite knowing the answer. It's evident from the whispers in the stone walls. Everything feeds through to me now.

"No." Lennick walks by my side as we make our way down the halls toward his office.

"I thought you might have known why?" Well, that's just it. I do, but I have to sort it out in my own mind first.

"Last night was chaos. Is everyone out on contracts?" I ask suddenly realizing how empty of life the whole Enclave feels. Lennick nods, clearing off his desk and the chair in front of it.

"Most of us. Ellir, Sevrin, Keliar, and some more of us are still here. Yourself included, of course." So the Enclave was emptied of most of our contract executioners on the night that Nightshade was practically set up. That's not a coincidence either. Is there a way to manipulate the scrying readings that I'm not aware of? How would someone even do that? And how much can I really trust Lennick? I mean, I've confided the most important thing in him, and I am quite certain he's trustworthy. But we are assassins.

How do I know what his personal code is? Taking a breath, I grab my pouch and gently open the foldings that help keep the contents safe. It's a design my father used to keep his tools dry even when it was pouring rain. Waxed leather, folded in a complicated series of folds, so as to protect the insides. My vials are all still perfectly preserved in their small individual padded sections. The kill order is also dry. I can't deny my sigh of relief.

"I didn't burn my orders after reading them," I say, not focusing on Lennick, not wanting to see the disappointment.

"This contract was complex, with maps and sketches, and well… see for yourself." Pushing it over to Lennick, I cross my arms and weight for him to read over it for himself. It's some of the longest minutes of my life. Will he feel the need to chastise me or have me punished for not following our rules? While he peruses it, I go over the scrying chain. Person receives information via scrying. Once received, it's transcribed.

Aarron's assistants are members that aren't cut out to be assassins who've been trained in helping the Prefect with his paperwork. After they refine the information, they pass the list to Aarron, who delegates the contract. Just how could this detail have escaped us?

"Was there another reason you kept this and didn't follow protocol?" he asks, pulling me out of my thoughts. His tone isn't judgy; it just sounds like he usually does.

"No. Well…" Perhaps saying no is a lie. After all, I did have that feeling that something was up.

"I had a gut feeling. It just felt like an abnormal number of details and instructions. The time stamp wasn't even a time but a specific point in a speech. It just felt different, sort of off."

"Detailed instructions this in depth aren't unheard of, but definitely not a frequent thing." Lennick bites his lip, and I wish I could read the thought running through his head. A frown creases his brow, and he lets out an exclamation I can't really give a name to.

"Tell me everything that happened." It takes less time to impart everything than I'd thought it would. When I was living the moments, time crawled. And yet Lennick sits with his hands clasped together under his chin, drinking in every word. All the while the sun rises higher in the sky. It must be almost seven in the morning.

"We do sometimes get highly specific contracts. That's not the problem here." He pushes himself up and leans on his desk.

"You're the only one of us who could have escaped, from the sounds of it. No one else knows that, though, and the method was almost tailor made for you. If Aarron had sent anyone else on this specific mission, there'd be an execution in the city square today—of that I have no doubt."

"Tell me something I haven't figured out myself," I quip, tired and irritated. Especially since I know the door is about to open.

"You'll both have to come and talk in my offices. Last night was a mess of revelations, and I'm not happy about any of them." Aarron is standing in the now-open door, his arms crossed and his face thunderous. His hair stands out like he's been hit by lightning. From the circles under his eyes, he's also sleep deprived. I'm not sure why, but I feel a sense of relief that he's back and we didn't have to come and break him out of a holding cell.

On the other hand, I want to know what he and the mayor were even talking about before everything went awry. Because it was highly suspect. And I want to know if Aarron had even an inkling that it would go down this way. Lennick nods and ushers me out of the room in front of him. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Aarron's stride is long and quick, and we're inside his office before I know it. Even the walls aren't being quiet.

They're worked up—something has them bothered, but they're not revealing what. I need more time to connect to my gift, to enhance it. To get enough respect from the elements that I can demand information from them and understand what they tell me. These glimpses are so frustrating, just a taste of what I'll be able to do once I get this under control.

"That contract was a setup." Aarron's anger boils just beneath the surface. His facade is cracking.

"We know that much. Why?" Lennick asks, beating me to it. I want to stand and observe, feel the way the air surrounds us, listen to what it whispers to me.

"Wait a minute." Aarron organizes a few things on his desk, pushing several piles of documents, leafing through one of the others. There are two sets of footsteps coming down the hallway. I allow myself a chance to relax. Aarron obviously doesn't want to repeat himself. Lareny and Dougrant let themselves into the room wordlessly, nodding at our Prefect.

"From what I surmise, as you've obviously already figured out, the contract was meant to accomplish a couple of things. The plan, as far as I can see, was to execute the target in a demonstrative manner, and have the killer trapped inside the town hall with no avenue of escape. Once they had an assassin captured, it would have allowed them to detain me. With myself seized, it means they could have ransacked our city headquarters both here and in other cities."

"Why would they want to do that?" I ask, only belatedly realizing it might not have been the best idea to interrupt him.

"Technically the Order of Enforcement needs storefronts." Aarron's gaze is unsettling, intense.

"It would allow them to find any slipup. Anything that might break our flimsy disguise for the public."

"Why would they do that?" I can't help the questions. It's this thirst, this need to know so I can figure out how to respond to it. Aarron purses his lips.

"To do what the Court has wanted to do for hundreds of years. Bring Nightshade under their command." There's more I want to ask, but Aarron holds up his hand in a silencing gesture. He watches each of us in turn as he speaks, but his eyes end up resting solely on me.

"You saved us a lot of trouble, Taria. Exactly how did you manage to get out?" There's a hint of suspicion under his words. Maybe he's lost trust in me. It could be that he thinks I'm in cahoots with all my questions?

"I initially thought to escape the same way I got in. But once in the rafters, I realized there were patrols everywhere. Before they reached my hiding spot, I managed to get into the dumbwaiter and made my way down to the cellar storage area, where I dropped into the catacombs." Not one lie told. Only information omitted. A flash of surprise crosses Aarron's face.

"That was surprisingly astute of you. Especially since I feel like the instructions meant scouting out earlier wasn't necessary. Again—a trap. How did you know to escape through the cellar area?" He leaves the question hanging in the air. How did I know the way out? How did I manage to get out of there in the tiny window of time I had?

"I remembered the entry to the catacombs from our Novice field trip." Lareny actually laughs.

"Now I have proof that my field trips are worth it." She pats me briefly on the shoulder and nudges Lennick.

"Although, I don't think anyone else would have remembered it with map-like detail." I shrug. It's a little disconcerting having the eyes of a few of the best assassins in the order focused on you.

"Thanks to your quick thinking," Aarron continues even though he doesn't sound thankful at all, "and my prominent visibility during the incident, no one was caught, and no one could produce the assassin." Lennick reaches forward and places the orders on Aarron's desk. The Prefect's eyes go wide at first; I can practically feel his anger before it suddenly calms. He rereads the orders, goes over the map and sketch again, and now he's fuming. I wish I knew what he sees that I don't. All I knew was that it felt wrong.

Perhaps tampered with? Perhaps too perfect. I can't really pinpoint it. But I know with certainty that Aarron recognizes something about it. Maybe he was in a rush when he approved it and sent it out. Perhaps it only made it as far as his assistants. At least this rage isn't directed at me.

"Lareny, can you run an analysis on the scrying room and the instruments? I realize a few days have passed, but see what you can find." He glances at several stacks on his desk.

"Dougrant, take over Lareny's classes for the time being. I need you to increase patrols and guards. Utilize the Novices, Initiates, anyone you need." Dougrant and Lareny leave the room, and Aarron seats himself at the desk. His hair is disheveled, and despite the way he carries himself, I can tell that he's tired. They must have had him up all night. There's a dark aura around him, palpable from the proximity he has to the stone walls. He's not telling us everything.

Considering what I witnessed in Korrien, he's not telling us a whole lot of things.

"Those darts of yours, Taria—we need to figure out a way to manufacture them en masse." The Prefect rifles through his drawers, his expression perturbed. It makes me wish my gift let me read minds.

"Why? Not that it'd be difficult to teach. It just requires an extremely steady hand." Aarron doesn't answer for a moment, leafing through several documents he's pulled out of his desk, "Any assassin without a steady hand shouldn't be one. We need to experiment with less traceable delivery systems so you're not the only one we can send on certain missions." He focuses back on a document he pulled out of one of his piles. Lennick clears his throat.

"Prefect?" It's one of the first times I've ever heard Lennick call Aarron by his title.

"Apologies. I was detailed, and it was questionable." He shakes his head.

"Got a lot to think about and absolutely no sleep." He's scattered. There's something about this truly bugging him. And I want to ask what, I want to shake him and insist he share what he knows. The trust I had in him? Wavering like a snapped branch about to break free of the tree.

"Sir. Is there something you're not telling us? We might be able to assist you."

"There's a lot I'm trying to piece together right now. I don't want to say anything before I'm certain. Speculation doesn't help anyone."

"Right now, being in the dark, isn't helping anyone either." I say it quietly, almost surprised at myself for speaking up. Maybe I've taken it personally. They tried to catch me. Without my ability, I'd be dead. Power floods through me, as if it can feel my anger, tugging on me, coaxing me with its intoxication. I calm myself, breathing as we were always taught here. Like my father taught me to when hunting. Aarron still hasn't spoken but is concentrating on several reports like his life depends on it.

When he looks up, his composure is back, and I can't help but wonder at whether I lost the opportunity to understand what happened. Not that I can control his lack of an answer. I don't have truth serum on me. He clears his throat and tidies the files in his hands.

"It's fortunate you kept a clear head enough to get out when you did, Taria. It's with good reason your instructors placed you on the Adept track." Compliments don't affect me the way I think they do others. Of course they placed me on the Adept track. I've been exemplary. I will continue to be so, because it's the easiest way to my end goal. Maybe my lack of response angers him, I'm uncertain.

"Next time, destroy your orders. Even if you get an off feeling about them. But if you get that gut reaction before you leave—bring it to us immediately. Don't wait." That particular phrasing almost startles me. Just how much of what Lennick and I talked about did he hear, and how did he hear it? My own abilities warned me he was approaching, and he wasn't close enough to have overheard. Could Aarron also have a type of gift too? Are there more magic users hiding because they don't know how to show themselves?

"Yes, sir" is what I answer instead of asking the ten thousand questions bouncing around in my head. I need more confidence in my own abilities first.

"You may go. Lennick and I have things we must discuss." I nod and take my leave, despite not liking the tone in Aarron's voice. Instead, as I leave, I filter a tiny sliver of power like a thread, attaching it to the stone, wanting to know what it is they're talking about. They don't begin speaking until I've turned the corner and am well on my way to my room.

"Why were you so harsh on her?" Lennick's tone is warbled by the stones I'm asking to listen.

"I don't understand how she got out." Aarron doesn't sound disappointed, just suspicious. I'm not sure what would be worse. Lennick chuckles.

"You can't have it both ways. If she'd been caught, you would have been caught, and Nightshade would be doing damage control. We're lucky she's quick on her feet." There's a pause before Aarron speaks again.

"But is that really all it was? Something isn't adding up. From the contract to the escape… nothing is clicking." I finally make it back into my room, and pull the door closed behind me. Diving immediately into my hiding place for my books, I fish out the new ones Lennick gave me before I went on my mission. A couple of minutes later, I realize I'm not hearing anything else from the office. Which is odd. That can't have been all there was.

I try to track the thread back to them, to make sure the stone around me hasn't just flitted off to the newest thing. But it's gone. At first, I wonder if it's like Lennick's door. After all, he'd mentioned something about activating a privacy seal, but beyond that, I know nothing. Maybe it's a magical remnant and all main offices have it once the door is closed. But no. The sliver of my power is just gone. That means someone or something severed the power trail I attached there. A chill runs down my spine.

That practically proves I'm not the only one with magic.