It was every single one of our lessons rolled into one.
Five sipped wine with one hand and grabbed the target Ruby held out to him with the other. Two took hers, glanced at the name, and pocketed it. I pulled the last slip from Ruby’s fingers.
“Your group has been above average in both mortality and ability during these auditions, and several mass events narrowed the playing field.” Emerald settled back in her chair. “Which leaves us with you three, and considering all your indiscretions, we’re not holding out hope for clean, good kills. But understand this: I don’t care how you do it, but you will not get caught and you will not kill anyone else—not a hair on their heads disturbed—or I will end you.”
Emerald, as always, managed to terrify and impress me all at once. I wanted to be her, and I never ever wanted to be on her bad side.
“The names and descriptions on your paper represent three minor people who have either caused unrest, committed violent crimes, or supported the instigators in the north.” Ruby let out a long bored sigh.
Amethyst continued Ruby’s speech. “They need to be eliminated quietly and quickly. These are not to be public executions. Do not treat them as such. Understood?”
“Good.” Emerald didn’t wait for us to agree. “Your marks are all in Willowknot for the next three days, and we will take into consideration the speed of your success. If you are caught, you are on your own. If you insinuate that this was part of auditions for the Left Hand, you are on your own and dead. Bring us proof of your kill that won’t arouse suspicion.”
Five finished eating and glanced at the slip of paper. While sipping tawny wine, he shifted, and I caught sight of an extra knife in his boot. It didn’t change anything, his true history. Just meant I knew which memories to drag up to hurt him if need be.
“Any questions?” Amethyst slid from her chair as we stayed silent. “Then you’re dismissed.”
We all waited till the Left Hand stood—I knew that much at least—and Five left the room with a bow to each of them. Two left with less show.
She was too quiet. She could kill me and I’d never be the wiser it was her. I needed to finish this perfectly and avoid her and Five at all costs.
Thirty-Nine
Maud wiped the cosmetics from my face and folded the nice clothes on my bed, fingers shaking the whole time.
“How’re you so nervous?” I pried my slip of paper from the coat pocket and shook out my arms. “I’m the one who could die.”
Maud straightened the collar of my shirt, lips pursed and face carefully blank. She patted my arm. “You die, I don’t get promoted.”
“Of course.” I swallowed. No point in embarrassing us both with emotions. “I’ll be sure not to die then.”
“I appreciate it.” Maud grinned—barely—and handed me a cloak.
“I look boring?” I threw it over my shoulders and fixed my hair, face cold without my mask. I was going into Willowknot, and I’d need to make a friend fast to find my target. “Presentable?”
“Passable.” The thought of me wandering out into the world looking “passable” washed away whatever she had been feeling, and she raised her hands to my hair. “If you’d let me—”
“No, passable is what I want.” Meant I was forgettable, and I could live with that. It meant no one would remember another person in the crowd. I pulled off the last bit of gilt that marked me as more than a traveler and handed Elise’s ring to Maud. “I don’t come back, tell Lady de Farone I’m sorry. And I won’t fault you if you try to wrangle a better paying job out of it. Sure she won’t either.”
Elise’s attendant was probably too busy getting ink and charcoal stains out of her clothes to do anything else.
Maud tucked the ring into her pocket. “I will. I promise.”
“I know. I trust you. Which is why I want you to have the bounty for Grell da Sousa. I killed him, and I won’t need it if I’m dead. Amethyst seems nicest. Talk to her about it.”
She opened her mouth, and I thrust my slip of paper into her hands.
“Just accept the money and go get your siblings.” I could read it—mostly—but I had to be sure. “What’s it say?”
She stared at me for a moment too long. “Thorn da Tonin, nineteen hands, shaved head, runes on forearms and back, scar across left side of mouth, lives in Willowknot, runs Quick Silver.” She wrinkled her nose and handed it back to me. “He’s one of yours.”
I checked all four of my knives and pulled on my gloves. “Mine?”
“Street fighter, gambler.” She leaned against the tub. “Alibi’s this old gambling house. Dimas bans all the new workers from going, but the soldiers still show up beaten to bits every few nights, and it’s good money. Thorn tried to buy it out, but they never gave in, so he opened up Quick Silver across from it. Stole half their business.”
“And you know all of that how?” I asked. “Don’t strike me as the gambling type.”
“I was looking for work.” She crossed her arms, wincing. “The Triad help whatever poor souls he’s got working for him now.”
“Well, Our Queen’s helping them at least.” I tore up my slip and handed it to her. I was Sal again—dressed for a job in mostly fitting clothes and pleasantly buzzed with the thrill of it all. Finding people was easy and getting to them easier. No different than robbing a house. “Remember, Lady de Farone.”
“Yes, yes.” Maud shooed me away. “I did exist before you walked into my life. Go be Opal.”
I grinned all the way to Willowknot. The streets were different by lantern light, sharper and louder. Crowds moved from building to building, shouting through tavern doors, and I slipped my hood from my head while watching them drift from bar to gambling table to bar again. With so many workers flooding the city, the shops were thriving.
I followed a group yattering about Alibi—best place to get dirt was from your target’s competition. The place was flush with people.
Igna soldiers drank around the bar—their coats thrown off and weapons gone. A large crowd of women played drinking games I’d never heard of and cheered in one of the western languages from over the Blue Silk Sea that I didn’t know. A couple at the back whispered to each other with the telltale harsh accent of Berengard from over the eastern mountains.
“Weapons to the bar,” the person behind me said in Alonian.
“The bar?” I spun around, gripping my side, and eyed the older woman trying to herd me to the counter.
“No weapons inside. Drop them on the bar, you’ll get a number, and they’ll keep them locked up till you leave.” She smiled, suntanned skin crinkling like the lines on a river map, and led me to a seat. “Check your weapons and have a drink or see yourself out.”
I obeyed and traded my two knives for a ribbon with the number 247 looped over the end.
“You from down south?” my companion asked. She fixed herself a drink from the bar, winking at the barkeeper.
The barkeeper tossed a candied lemon slice at her.