Rollan nodded a greeting as they approached. He was a big man with messy yellow hair, about ten years older than Tristam. “That’s all of us. Kyra, give us an update.”
The men gathered around. “Ashley’s a low-ranking member of the Guild,” said Kyra. “If he keeps his patterns from earlier this week, he should be home. He’s a good fighter, so be careful.”
It had taken Kyra considerable time to track him down. After the Palace pardoned Kyra’s crimes, she’d agreed to help Malikel track down the rest of the Guild and bring them to justice. The first assassin, a taciturn man named Jason, had been easy to capture. But as word of Jason’s imprisonment had spread, the rest of the Guild went underground. Kyra found nothing for weeks, until finally she’d run across rumors of Ashley hiding in an old house in the beggars’ sector.
“Kyra, scout the house,” said Rollan. “Brancel, go help her.”
Kyra kept her head low as she and Tristam set off down the street. The streets here were narrow and dirty, with the upper stories hanging over the lower ones and blocking the light. She could sense the handful of loiterers and beggars on the street giving them suspicious looks. The Palace folk stood out here despite their efforts to blend in. Their clothes were too nice, and they carried themselves too straight. Well, it was too late to do anything about that. She quickened her steps and turned into an empty alleyway.
“You’ll be climbing up here?” Tristam asked quietly.
Kyra nodded, pleased that Tristam knew her habits well enough to anticipate her movements. “Give me a boost?”
He checked over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching, then joined his hands to form a step for her.
She pushed off him and pulled herself over the edge of the roof. The old wooden shingles felt as if they’d come apart if she bent them hard enough, and she was glad she had gloves to protect her from splinters. “Thank you. You’re a decent stepladder.”
“You know,” came his voice from below, “in some circles I’m known for my combat skills and quick strategic mind.”
“And here I thought it was your pretty face,” she said under her breath.
Kyra looked down from the roof to find Tristam’s mouth quirked in a mischievous smile. “You think so?”
Their gazes met for a moment, and the flutter in Kyra’s stomach was not at all convenient for running a mission. She scowled and traced the line of the rooftop with her gaze. “I’m off, then.”
This entire street was lined with cheaply constructed boarding-houses, favored by landlords who often rented out each room to a different family. Kyra had to use a soft step and watch her way carefully so she wouldn’t tread on any rotten tiles. There was far more creaking and shifting underneath her feet than she would have liked.
The assassin, Ashley, lived in an attic apartment. These rooms had windows that protruded out of the roof under slanted eaves, and Kyra counted them as she climbed over each one, finally stopping at the fifth. Though the shutters were closed, there was a thin gap where they met. When Kyra put her eye to the crack, she could make out a man sitting on the floor, doing some work with his hands. She had only seen Ashley once or twice during her time at the Guild, but it was definitely him.
Her target found, Kyra crept to the very edge of the roof. About ten people walked the streets below. Though they all could have seen Kyra easily in the afternoon sun, Tristam was the only one looking up. His eyes met hers, and then he walked casually away.