The Rebel Assassin

Chapter 2: Thief, Diplomat, Assassin

The meeting hall of the thieves' caverns, where Ysmay held court with the rest of the Phoenix leaders, was cool and shadowy. The curving walls melted into a low ceiling overhead. The long table lined with chairs took up almost every inch of space. It was claustrophobic, but least today it wasn't crowded.

I hovered over Nemia as she settled into a chair by the door, farthest away from the Phoenix leaders at the other end of the table. I was all too aware of the way they were watching her — differing combinations of greed and fear in their eyes as they tracked her every small movement, pushing her hair back and opening her book, leaning back as if she didn't even notice them.

It was a convincing act, but I'd watched her perfect it for so many years that every movement rang false.

I hated them for making her feel that she had to act this way. Hadn't she had enough? Everyone in the castle, from servants who scurried past without making eye contact to nobles who sneered all the more around her just to prove they weren't scared, to the guards who tripped over each other not to have to be her dueling partner — no one there really knew what to do with an assassin in their midst. It should have been different here, in Maenar, where half these people had blood on their hands.

But I knew they only saw her as a weapon. They just wanted her to kill the king, no matter what the cost may be to her. She'd already suffered for what she did to Jaden, and had anyone even noticed the guilt she was staggering under all those months?

No one cared for the Assassins, not at any time in Solangian history, and we had the misfortune of being born during this time in particular. Lucky for Nemia, I thought bitterly, that we now knew who really was the Assassin.

I left Nemia and squeezed past more chairs to the other end of the table. Ysmay watched me approach with her usual disapproving gray stare. I may not like how the others looked at Nemia, but I trusted them (to a certain extent, at least) because Ysmay anchored them, an unfeeling boulder at the head of the table.

"I hear you caused yet another ruckus in the capital," she said by way of greeting. "Don't you ever grow tired of leaving destruction in your wake?"

I rolled my eyes. "The only death count was on the royals' side. That hardly counts as destruction."

She only crooked a finger at one of the women at the table, moving on. "The capital rebels that came with Laerhart?"

"All settled into their rooms. I'm still figuring out what roles they can play here."

"Figure it out faster. You finished questioning them?"

She nodded. "But they weren't able to give me much more information. They're sure Aiden is splitting from us, and he retains a handful of supporters. It seems that Darhra has joined him."

"Good riddance," I muttered.

Ysmay narrowed her eyes. "Aiden is a formidable mage, and Dahra is rare leader. There is nothing good about the two of them colluding. This is a big mess, not that I'm surprised by that, since you were involved."

Fine, it was a mess, but I thought it had been an inevitable one. Dahra was too proud to rejoin the Phoenix, and Aiden was too ambitious to submit to Ysmay's authority. They were always going to be a pain.

I changed the subject, as gracefully as I knew how. "Can we talk about what I wanted to talk about now?"

Ysmay slapped down her quill as if I was too much to deal with, but flipped one hand for me to continue.

"In the capital I met a friend who had information about us — the Guardians, I mean."

"Relating to the prophecy?" One man blurted out, glancing at Nemia.