Into the Heart of a Killer: Memoirs of an Assassin

Chapter Nine

"You look really tired all the time, Jae," Tane said, tilting his head back to look at me.

"Yeah, I work really hard."

"In the bakery?"

"Yeah," I mumbled my response. It was a blatant lie and I didn't like lying to him, but it was something I'd given up on trying not to do long ago. Some lies were mandatory to protect him and Ma. I'd do anything to protect him and Ma, even if it meant I had to kill someone. I'd never killed anyone before and I wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible, but I knew that wasn't something I had control over.

"Bakeries don't seem like they'd make you work very hard," Tane said, looking across the river.

This was our favorite spot. We'd talk about everything. He'd tell me things Ma said to him that he found amusing and I'd spin him wild tales about assassins. He thought I was just a creative thinker. He had no idea the stories were true.

It was better that way.

"I've gotta run errands and stuff," I said. "Like, in and out of town."

"Isn't the bakery outside of town?"

"Yeah," I said. "Which is why I look so tired all the time. I've gotta run into town, grab what we need, and hurry back to the bakery. Bakeries don't have horses, y'know? So I gotta do it on my own."

"Oh," Tane said. "I hadn't thought about the whole... distance thing."

"It's okay, though," I assured him. "It isn't too bad. It keeps me in shape."

"Sounds cool," Tane said, and I looked at him with a curious glance. "I mean, to have a job and stuff. We're only nine."

"Dad needs extra money," I said, cringing inwardly at calling Ceseth my father. It had gotten easier over the past year, but it still made me sick to my stomach. I'd kill the man if he really was my father. "And they don't let me bake anything. I just run errands."

"Maybe I wouldn't like that then," Tane said bashfully. "I don't really like running. But I like to—"

"Swim," I finished for him, smiling brightly. It was one of the things Tane loved to do. He'd always ask me to swim with him, but I didn't know how to swim. I didn't want him to know that, though, so I always said I was too tired. Sometimes he'd get into the water and I'd sit on the bank and watch him. He'd splash water at me and we'd laugh and joke until sunset, when we both had to head back.

Looking at it now, the sun was beginning to set.

"Mhm," he said softly. "I love to swim. I hope someday you'll swim with me."

"I will," I lied.

"Promise?" he asked, looking hopefuly.

"Promise."

It was a promise I knew I could never keep.

~*&*~

I lunged forward and slashed. He, as usual, sidestepped me easily. Frustrated and covered in sweat, I tried again. Again, he managed to evade me.

"Is that all you've got?" he asked, looking like he was going on a leisurely stroll. I was uncomfortably drenched in sweat and my hair was plastered to my face. My mouth was dry and I was gasping for air. It had to have at least been two hours in training with him, and I hadn't hit him once. As for me?

I was covered in blood and bruises. We used practice swords, so he couldn't actually slice a limb off or anything, but the hard wood still hurt anyways. When hit hard enough, it was more than enough to break skin. Ceseth kept telling me to get used to pain.