KINGSLAYER

♕ 6 | 3 ♕

Nearly faster than my eyes could follow, he took another shot. Jaylah and I ducked beneath a wide gambling table as screams arose from hiding hostages. I was unable to tell whether he approached or held his ground. Under my example, Jaylah followed me as we dove behind a statue of a naked man, crouched near the floor the entire time. The statue's head was blown to bits, and I ducked against the falling plaster.

Shoving several shaking men in suits aside, we snuck behind the shadow of the false waterfall. It was impossible to see through.

"You will not get out of this one, Khan," came the assassin's booming baritone. "And neither will anyone else if you do not hand yourself over." His accent was one I could not place.

My mind raced. He was threatening to kill everyone just for me. Not afraid to go to extremes, but also not afraid to have any witnesses either. Eyes narrowing, I pressed myself against the wall, listening.

"Ah," I heard him say quietly, not directed to me this time. "I see we have our first sacrificial lambs." There was a scream cut short and I knew he'd killed at least one victim, perhaps more from the continued whimpering. It was not the last, as I heard a scuffle and a thud. He was cutting them down like stalks of grain. Like they were nothing.

In those terrible moments of uncertainty, I looked to Jaylah. But her gaze was ice cold. "He will kill them," she said, one hand on the outline of the locket. "Let him. He will come to us." No mercy.

I said nothing. And as I did, I realized I did not want any more blood on my hands. I wondered if my stepfather was amongst the slain, my last words to him brought to life as some sick prophecy.

"I've done my research, Khan." The voice was closer now as he kicked tables and chairs aside. "I've been watching for weeks as you struggled your way down the continent. I know how you act, how you move, how you entrap your prey. I've studied you." A chill doused my spine. "I have learned from your example. There is only room for one of us, and I want your title."

Of course. Of course he was after my prestige, my name. I could demand ridiculously high prices, sign the most profitable commissions. Save Daggen, no one I worked for ever saw my face. This man could be the next Deathrender and no one would know.

He was dangerously near now, so I began to go through a checklist of options I had. All of them could easily be combated by his revolver, however, which gave him a very unfair advantage. So I began to devise a plot to create my own advantage.

Though his footfalls were purposefully silent on the carpet, he could not hide his shadow as it passed over the gold waterfall. I watched it slide forward, liquid in its movement.

Then I attacked. Ripping through the sheaf of golden water, I crouched low enough to avoid the first prepared swing of his blade. It soared through the air before my throat. Bending back, I kicked upwards to disable him, but he feinted the other direction. It gave me time to become steady on my feet and remain close enough that the gun would be of no use.

Coming up from behind in his blind spot, one of the gamblers motivated by my bravery smashed a chair against the assassin's back. He was quickly stabbed to death, but the assassin was outnumbered for a split second. When he came back around to stab me, I kicked his gun arm the opposite way, causing him to slice into his own flesh. It was shallow—barely even a cut—but it was a mistake on his part.

I rammed my fingers into the widening gash and forced the gun into my own hand.

He went to hit me but it was too late. I swept to the side and shot him as quickly as I could in the shoulder. The trigger felt foreign under my fingertip, but there was always time for me to learn.

I held the revolver still in my hands for a beat too long, making the assassin dive for it despite his wound. With one of his thick arms around my throat, I dropped it.

His smile grew as I went completely frozen under the cold of the barrel on my forehead. Jaylah's gaze was burning into the side of my head. Without hesitation, he pulled down the trigger.

Nothing.

His waning grin fed my triumph. I let the four remaining bullets slide out of my sleeve and threw them into the waterfall's basin.

Once the gamblers within the building saw the danger was over, they began to flood the exits. The three of us were jostled away from each other in the crowd. I watched as my stepfather was one of the first to leave.

"This is a testament to the difference between our legacies," I shouted to the assassin, whose chest was blooming red as he clamped a hand over it. "I am still at the top. And I do not even know who you are."

Through the throng of hurried people, his eyes burned with malice. "No," he agreed. "But I know exactly who you are."