The Immortal Chronicles | | b o o k 2

8. mademoiselle

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IMMORTAL CHRONICLES : BOOK ONE : vene aminoff

. . .

Though nearly alone in her current position, Vene Aminoff had colleagues associated with Cape Iticus Academy. Alumni from the Academy were everywhere, hidden in the shadows, preforming their own work or the dirty work of others. Either way, she knew where to find them and who, specifically, to find when she needed them.

While Eastvale was filled with sorcerers, Matalivens was crawling with vengeful people, individuals hiring assassins left and right to try and get the upper hand on their enemies. With the civil war conspiring, their was more loathing and hostility than before, because when the war concludes, political parties will rise. Men of power feel threatened, constantly, because everyone seemed to know someone they'd prefer dead rather than alive.

But what—or more likely who—Vene was searching for wasn't quite that far west; she began her search for this particular fellow where the mountains divided and protected Eastvale from the civil war. There, she hunted for her close friend within the shadows of Edinmar's condensed city before her destination of Ravenwood.

Edinmar was built into a wide valley in the mountains, but the valley proved to be too small for their increase in population. So, they took to the rocky inclines and fashioned narrow, small buildings where expanding families built up rather than across, and were close enough to their neighbors to reach out the window and open the one on their right.

If it was possible, Edinmar was Vene's favorite city to visit. Quite simply, Edinmar was a humble city that still took to using candle-lit street lamps. Most of Eastvale had already transferred to electric-powered lights.

As Vene strode onto the streets mounted atop Delle, her steed with a pointed white patch splitting his head in two between the eyes. Under the cover of nightfall, Delle appeared to be completely comprised of a thick black fur coat accented in charcoal grey. From afar, the two of them were a single, unified shadow until they passed underneath a street lamp.

With a gentle pull of the reigns, Vene steered Delle off the streets—he tossed his head a tad, aggravated by the past day spent constantly on foot, without so much as a carrot to eat. She coaxed him with a nudge in the side and, once dissolving into the shadows altogether, she dismounted and guided him from a few steps ahead. The two of them navigated the alleyways until Vene recognized the familiar brick exterior hidden among businesses and houses—completely inconspicuous.

She stepped over to the metal door, her boots clapping against the shallow puddles between the cobblestone. Delle stood behind her, his nose exhaling hot breath on her neck as she knocked three hard times on the door.

The slot on the door—approximately eye-level with Vene—slid open. Warm, orange light highlighted the edges of the metal, but silhouetted the individual on the other end of the door. "Name."

"Amin Wiltshire. Is Ros seeing anyone right now?" Vene asked as she began to hear the chink of metal against metal. There had to be at least a dozen locks on the door.

"Yeah, an' it ain't you. You'll have to wait half an hour or so," he told her just before unlatching the door and swinging it open. "I'll have one of my men take your horse around to the stables."

She didn't respond to that, except to give Delle a final pat on the nose before disappearing around the edge of the metal door. Ros' security man shut the door behind her and followed closely at her heels as she descended the stairs. There were two other fellas sitting around at the top of the stairs, and she recognized each of them from the last time she visited her friend. If she hadn't had her hood up, she was certain they'd recognize her—they were the best at attaching names to faces.