The Forgotten (The Sighted Assassin Book 2) Read online

  “You would find me eventually. I wanted it on my terms.”

  I flicked my gaze around, looking at the street, the sloped entrance to the Durven, the dark haze hanging around the buildings. “You would choose this?”

  She shrugged. “You are not at a complete advantage here. And I—”

  She cut off just as I grew alerted to a change in the shadows. No longer were we alone.

  I slipped in front of the woman, pushing her behind me as I sent two small darts flying into the alley. I unsheathed my sword, preparing for the possibility—rare as it was—my darts had missed.

  Moments later, bodies crumpled to the stone with a soft thud, coxberry taking effect.

  I stepped back against the rough planks of the building, waiting, looking carefully out at the street and up to the rooftops. Nothing else moved.

  I turned, half-expecting her to have run off.

  She stood near the Durven, slinking close to the sunken stone, watching me. Silent. Eyes still touched with a hint of green were wide. Clearly, she still called upon her abilities. I wondered if she Read me as I watched her. She blinked, the green fading. A useful trick.

  I sheathed my sword, studying her carefully.

  Her demeanor had changed. Before she had seemed confident, as if knowing I would not kill her. Now she shifted, eyes flickering up and down the alley. The tension in her cheeks seemed more pronounced and her lips drew tight. Slender fingers pulled at her dress, twisting the fabric in her hands. I could smell the nerves upon her, biting through the sweet floral perfume she wore.

  “What am I to do?” I asked her. “I can’t let you live. Not if I want to stay in Eban. And I’m not sure you’ll let me kill you.”

  She blinked, green flaring in her eyes before fading. “Do you want to kill me?”

  I sighed, uncertain what it was that I wanted. Conflicting emotions ran through me. But which were mine and which did she place there?

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “I am no one.”

  I snorted. “No one?” I took a step closer and watched. She tensed but her eyes never changed. “There are few Readers outside Elaeavn. But you’re something more than just a Reader.” She started to look away. “Why did you leave?”

  She leaned toward me, filling my nostrils with her perfume. I became aware of how her neck pulsed with each heartbeat. My own quickened. A long finger swept her hair back almost delicately, tucking it behind her ear. I had a sudden vision of Orly tossing the bottle of wine into the fire, discarding it simply because he could.

  “There are few enough of the Sighted within Eban. But you are something more.”

  She leaned closer and I smelled her breath. Hot and with a hint of mint.

  Her eyes flared again and slid to the side. Pulling another dart from my pouch, I flicked it up toward the rooftop, not waiting this time for it to connect. I unsheathed my sword and pulled her into my arms, spinning as another shape separated from the shadows.

  The time for me decide had come. Those with skill had arrived.

  Coxberry wouldn’t be enough now, not if I wanted to live, and not if I wanted to keep her alive.

  She tensed but I held her tightly, sweeping the sword in an arc as we turned. I was aware of each of her curves as we moved, more so when she began pressing into me.

  We moved, shifting, dancing a deadly dance. She knew where I would go, sliding into just the right place, never obstructing the movement of my sword. I carried her down the street, away from the Durven, into the darker shadows, killing a half dozen as we moved.

  Finally we stopped.

  I was breathing heavily and so was she. Her chest heaved into mine but she made no effort to move. I could not have pulled away had I wanted to.

  In some ways, she reminded me of what I’d missed out on with Talia. She had been a friend, but there had been a part of both of us that had longed for something more. Had it been another time, or had Carth not called her away, I didn’t know what would have happened with her. But she had responsibilities and was skilled in ways I didn’t fully know.

  The same as what I detected from this woman.

  Could I kill her?

  “What now?” she whispered.

  I could finish this now. Twenty gold. Take proof to Orly, perhaps take a few of the other assassins with me for additional coin.

  But we both knew I would not.

  I didn’t know whether she used her influence or not. Or was it the memory of another I longed for? Did it matter? I couldn’t really kill one of my own, one with such obvious abilities.

  Even that was not an honest answer, not really.

  Taking a deep breath, I reluctantly stepped away from her. The look on her face almost made me step back into her, take her into my arms, kiss her deeply…

  I sheathed my sword more firmly than necessary, my head clearing. “If I’m to help you, that must stop.”

  She blinked and my desire faded but did not disappear completely. Around her, I doubted it would ever completely disappear. A sad smile twisted her mouth. “You will help?” The hope in her voice seemed real enough.

  The answer to her question was more than helping her. It meant pitting myself against Orly. I’d done that before, but I’d had help that time. This time, it would be only me.

  What other choice did I have?

  “The Great Watcher forgive me,” I said. “But I will help.”

  4

  I crouched in the small room within the Durven, rolling a dart between calloused fingers as I stared at the heavy oak door, unable to completely dispel the nerves I now felt. Tucked into the room as we were, I didn’t feel particularly protected. Especially not here. I had already seen how quickly word of the woman’s location spread. Now I was simply another target.

  I grunted. Five gold on me. For now.

  What was I doing opposing Orly? I knew the consequences—he’d already promised to put a price twice that of the woman on my head. Five gold was incentive enough for most. That didn’t make me especially nervous; I knew the skill of my competition in Eban. But once Orly learned that I was working against him, helping the woman, the price would change. Forty gold would pull assassins from all over, and I was not the only assassin with abilities. If he managed to coax the really skilled assassins into getting involved, I doubted I’d be able to do anything to keep us safe.

  There was but one way in or out of this room. Useful and risky at the same time. Walls were simple wood paneling. A small bed was tucked into the corner. A table sat at the end of the bed, a stack of paper spread atop it, ink bottle unstoppered and leaving me wondering what she’d been writing. Near the door was a lacquered trunk with intricate painting worked along its sides. I knew this was her only possession from home.

  “You don’t need to do this, Galen,” she said.

  I turned to look at her. I wondered when she first learned my name. The way she spoke it—so different than Orly and all the others I’d met in Eban—reminded me of home. Pale eyes showed none of the green, but I didn’t doubt she used her abilities. I’d seen how she managed to Read past my barrier as if it was nothing.

  Did Orly even know the extent of her abilities? Was that the reason for the price he put on her?

  “I don’t even know your name,” I said.

  “Cael,” she said.

  I didn’t need to watch her face to know that she spoke the truth. I heard the soft inflection, the comfort she had in saying the name, to know it was real. “Gather what you need quickly, Cael,” I said. “This room provides little in the way of protection. As you’ve seen, Orly is nothing if not over prepared.”

  I heard her breathing, smelled the hint of mint with each breath, the undertones reminding me of my first mentor, a woman I’d left behind years ago but whose lessons remained with me in everything I did. Keeping my mind steeled, I was careful to maintain my focus, understanding how easily her manipulations could sway me.

  “Why do you do this, Galen?”r />
  I shifted on my feet, the small dart pausing between my fingers. “I’m not sure,” I answered. It was as honest an answer as I had. “Orly wants you gone because you’re a Reader. Perhaps you influenced me. Both are reason enough.”

  There was more, but I didn’t dare share it. Did I admit to her how she reminded me in some ways of a friend I’d lost years ago, and with it, a chance for a different kind of happiness?

  Cael slid over to the trunk and leaned forward, glancing at me as she did. I couldn’t help but stare.

  “I know why you’re here now,” she said.

  I dragged my eyes up to her face. Her eyes burned a soft green, just hinting at her ability. A flush rose in her cheeks, giving a contrast of color to her pale skin.

  “Why are you—”

  “A killer?” I asked.

  She blinked slowly. Her eyes did not change.

  “You’re the Reader,” I answered and turned away.

  “There are some things even I cannot Read,” she said. “They are places buried so deep they’re like a different language to me. To go there and to understand would damage us both.”

  I shifted my focus to peer around the room, taking in the shadows. Light from the lantern flickered. Motes of dust hung in the air, mixing with translucent smoke. Even the walls had a certain glaze to them.

  “You wonder if I enjoy what I do.”

  I looked over at her. The darkly lacquered chest was open. Pale blue light washed out. Her hands froze in the act of rustling through its contents, but not before sounds of her sorting reached my ears. I heard clothing mostly, but there were other sounds mixed in. Coins. Clank of wood. A strange jingling. Mostly I wondered about the glow.

  She nodded once. Her lips tightened and lines drew around her eyes. Nothing else about her moved.

  “Can you tell by Reading?” I asked softly.

  Her eyes flared darker green, darker than my own. I didn’t look away. I felt a sense not unlike that of a gentle breeze that seemed to blow through my mind, leaving a startling clarity, as if a layer of dust had been disturbed. Light seemed to shimmer, the lantern surging, and shadows slipping under the door shifted.

  Cael finally shook her head.

  I smiled and stood, the dart working between my fingers, rolling across callouses before coming to rest on my fingertips.

  “Sometimes I do,” I admitted.

  Then I flung the door open and flicked the dart, sending it far down the hall. I heard it strike and pulled the door closed quickly. A trio of thunks struck the door as I closed it and readied another pair of darts.

  Cael took a sudden step back, gasping softly. Interesting. With her focus directed at me, she had not sensed the others outside the room. At least there were limits to her abilities.

  “Gather quickly what you’ll need.”

  I shifted my stance, pulling my sword from its sheath while I palmed a few darts, pausing to dip them into the small vial of remaining terad toxin. Now wasn’t the time for coxberry. With more time, I’d prepare additional toxin, but as it was, I had to rely on the terad toxin I’d previously readied. Left long enough after mixing, it lost potency. I couldn’t guarantee these darts would kill, but at least they would slow any who might be after us.

  “There are too many,” Cael said.

  “Can you disguise yourself?”

  “Such focus leaves me vulnerable,” she answered.

  I didn’t fully understand but didn’t push, curious what she felt as she read. Did she know that the people below were likely dead? With each worth five gold, there was little incentive to keep any alive. Were any of the women down there actually Cael’s friends?

  “All of them,” she whispered.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, knowing I shouldn’t be surprised by how easily she Read me. The emotion in her voice told me she had not experienced much death.

  “That’s why you searched for me outside the tavern.”

  There was no anger in her tone, just acceptance. I admired how quickly she adapted. “We should hurry. Word spreads quickly in Eban. Others will come. It doesn’t matter to Orly who completes the job, only that it’s done. For twenty gold, he’ll want proof.”

  “There’s only the one door.”

  I smiled. “That’s what they’ll expect. They haven’t learned that you have help.”

  “And when they do?”

  “We should be long gone by then.”

  I saw the flicker of green and knew that she Read me. Her eyes widened, color fading. I’d not seen another from my home with eyes quite like that.

  “Galen?”

  I didn’t answer, pulling the door open and throwing myself to the side.

  Three slender knives sunk into the door. Unadorned lorcith.

  Damn.

  Rumors of another assassin had come to me recently, a man named Lorst working in Cort with skill that rivaled mine, and one who used lorcith knives. He was rumored to have been exiled, much like me. I hadn’t expected him to reach Eban, or so soon. Cael’s glamour would not provide any protection against him.

  “Galen?” Cael said.

  I ignored her as I glanced down the hall. The corridor was empty except for a figure lying on the ground at the far end of the hall. A small lantern hanging halfway down the hallway burned with a sooty flame that darkened the ceiling. A shimmer of smoke hung on the air. Three other doors lined the hall, each closed. I wondered briefly if the rooms were empty.

  Leaning back into the room to grab Cael, I froze.

  A man—I presumed Lorst—stood across from her, slender blade in hand, wrist set to strike. Dark haired and more muscular than myself, but just as tall. He was dressed in a thin black shirt and tight-fitting pants. A small dark pack nested along his back, just the glint of the handles of his knives visible.

  I flicked a dart, anticipating his speed. I did not anticipate what he did next.

  Lorst simply vanished, flicking out of existence, reappearing three steps back.

  Damn.

  Sliding. Incredibly rare and an ability I’d never seen before, facing the Hjan with Carth. I hadn’t known Lorst could Slide. Probably how he travelled so quickly between Cort and Eban. A useful skill, especially for an assassin, and explained how he snuck into the room.

  “Galen,” he said, turning and smiling. “There’s enough coin in this for us to split.”

  The fact that he knew my name meant Orly really had sent him. “I need supplies.”

  Lorst frowned and Slid back a step. I saw it as a flicker of movement. A slight shimmer bloomed just as he Slid back into view, barely noticeable.

  “And I need the coin,” he said.

  His knife sliced straight toward my face. I turned, slapping it out of the air with the back of my sword. I dared not touch Lorst’s knives with my bare hand; like my darts, I suspected toxins coated the surface.

  Behind me, Cael gasped. I wished she’d have the sense to drop to the ground and get out of view. Lorst was quick and I didn’t know when he’d send one of his blades toward her.

  I heard the soft rustle of fabric as she went to the ground, and smiled.

  I flicked another dart toward Lorst.

  He was fast and Slid to the far corner, reappearing with another pale shimmer, and flung a knife at the same time. It came at my shoulder and I spun, slashing with my sword and knocking it to the ground. I flicked another dart, this time aiming in front of him, anticipating the Slide.

  I saw the faint shifting of light as he Slid back into view, dart impaled in his arm at the same time I felt his knife slice through my cloak. I didn’t have time to check if it cut flesh. I would likely be dead soon if it had.

  Lorst dropped in a heap. His breathing slowed, growing harsh. At least the terad toxin remained effective.

  “You did well staying low,” I said. “I’m not sure why Lorst hesitated when he first Slid into the room, but you were lucky.”

  She looked over at a smear of blood on the floor and nodded. “You’re cut.”


  “Maybe. But not dead. Come,” I said, pulling her up.

  She swayed slightly as she stood. Pale green eyes were wide and her breathing was heavy. As I felt the pull of her, I suddenly realized the control she exerted for me not to desire her constantly.

  She watched Lorst but I heard his breathing fade and knew he had little time left. Another time, I might have mourned him. There were few enough of our kind living outside of Elaeavn, and he and I might have more in common than most. But I wouldn’t mourn him now. Cael bundled her belongings into a small bag, tying it tight.

  I noticed the soft blue glow at the bottom of the bag, vowing to learn what she hid within. “There will be others.”

  “Like him?” she asked.

  I glanced over at where he lay. My dart stuck out of his forearm and the skin around it had grown an angry red. Had he moved? Prudence was the only course with an assassin like Lorst. I readied another dart. It was my last.

  “Not like him,” I said. “Skilled nonetheless.”

  I suddenly sensed a shift in the shadows behind me and spun, flinging the dart just as the door began to open. I heard the man gasp as it struck his hand, sinking through his wrist, and he fell without another sound.

  “Galen?” Cael whispered.

  I turned. Lorst was gone.

  Damn.

  Had the toxin sat too long, its effect fading? Terad could be touchy, and I had been in a hurry preparing. Either way, I’d lost him. He’d recover, the terad toxin having no real long-term effects, and come again. Little unsettled me, but the idea of him hunting Cael made me nervous.

  Worse, Orly would soon know. Once my price was set, I would be hunted along with her.

  “We must leave now,” I said.

  In the hall, we had to step over the man lying there. He was dark skinned and short and wore a pair of long knives across his back like swords. Another knife had fallen to the ground in front of him. The hilt was covered with intricate scrollwork. The fact that I didn’t recognize him worried me.

  I kneeled next to him and checked his neck. He still lived. Given long enough, he might wake to chase us. He had a look of competence about him. I took his knife and plunged it through his back. He died without a sound. At least the toxin worked well enough for that.