Page 12 of Shadows and Flames
The body below me was releasing faint grunts and gurgles while I dug my knee into his chest. The ebony blade, its touch now more familiar than any other, was embedded in his throat. The last guard, defending the man whose life we came to claim, fought till the very end. While we cut down every single one that lined the carpeted halls.
A nobleman’s son, given everything in the realm he could ever need. Home equipped with guards armed to the teeth, felled by two females with fewer than five weapons between them.
I sighed, the guard beneath me no longer twitching, and pulled my blade from his throat.
Settling on my haunches, I dragged my tongue against the flat of the dagger and hummed at the rich taste. The robust, earthy flavor coated my tastebuds as I licked my blade clean.
When the screams continued, however, I huffed and looked over to the overstuffed bed and the two forms writhing amongst the blankets and furs. The chill outside was all but a whisper in the extravagant home, and the nobleman’s son, we found, slept in the nude while piled under extravagance.
“Some might say the gift of a killing blow is an honor,” I called over but, from my position on the floor, could only see the edge of her profile. Her black leathers and hood that matched my own.
“I had a better idea,” she giggled, and though I groaned, something akin to excitement bubbled in my stomach. A mirage that I limped toward as I stood.
Blood fell across his palms and down to his wrists that were strung to the posts of the bed. Muffled plunks rang as Tana worked on another finger.
She rested on his stomach, thighs restraining his convulsing torso. The cloth she’d stuffed in his mouth barely muffled the volume of his wailing.
The bed was high enough for me to lean a hip against it and watch my cousin work. The contract specifically required his death, a few fingers as proof of kill. “Those could’ve been removed after, you know. So we would be spared his whingeing.”
Tana made a quick, swift cut at the knuckle of a meaty thumb, and, proving my point, released a torrent of his tears and the foul smell of urine. I straightened and watched a pool grow beneath the man marked for death. And a little round of torture, it seemed.
She removed three, and after collecting the digits in her own gloved hand, Tana sprang from her perch and stood back with me. Admired her handiwork.
The light cutting in from the moon washed the room in silver, and I saw the pride in her emerald eyes. The hunger for blood in a way she’d never felt before, now sated. Her staff, lined with delicate etchings from the nomadic Savyan people she bought it from, held remnants of her magic’s light. A dazzling white manifestation of aether that withstood strike after strike as we fought our way through the manor.
“How much would you like to wager that his wife is awake right now?”
I thought it over, cataloguing again her absence in their marital bed. Of course, our employer had stated they’d make sure of that part. At the time, we’d assumed it meant there would be no one in the home besides our mark and his guards.
The cluster that’d been protecting another bedroom proved wrong that theory. We’d cut them down too, but left that door closed and continued until we ended up here.
Upon Tana’s question, the man took up his noises again, mumbling something, fighting through his own agony. Whatever he was asserting, he said again, head lifting from the pillow soaking in blood, staring right at us.
With a shrug, I stepped closer to pull the fabric from his mouth to hear what he was so intent to tell us. If Tana was insistent on dragging this out, so be it.
Wasn’t like I had anything else to do. Anything to look forward to.
“P-please. Please. Take them both. I can give you c-c-coin. More than you’d know what to do with.”
I scoffed, regretting my decision immediately, and gagged him once more.
Tana was already walking away, throwing open the heavy door and prowling up the silent hallway. I listened as another door opened—urgent murmurings, quiet crying and confusion.
I stood, stock-still and staring past the man lying in his own piss. The beat between battle, between blood and blade, was… a fog. Outside of myself, I watched my body stand on the ruined wool rug, breathing and humming the melancholy lilts of an unknown but faithful song. The same I would sing while weeping on the banks of the Ralthan river.
My eyes cut to the door as Tana reentered, this time with two new people. One who barely glimpsed at the figure on the bed and started wailing.
Wincing, I looked to my cousin for any indication what the fuck was the purpose of bringing the child and future widower into the room. But, she gazed at me worriedly instead of following through with whatever plan plan she had in mind.
I sighed and pulled back my hood, revealing my face to the midnight light. Wasn’t as if there was true concern for concealing my identity in this human village on the far reach of the continent.
“P-please,” the wife croaked, dry voice breaking. The child, just over the line of adolescence if I had to guess, remained silent, staring at their father lying in his own waste. Fingerless hands pointed toward the ceiling.
“He will die tonight. Whatever words you would like to say, now is the time.”
Dressed in a flowing pink nightgown, the wife gaped at me, then Tana. Tried to hide the child behind her while she sobbed.
“Pleasedon’t hurt them. They cannot speak. T-take me.”
