Black Belt Anthology

Reunion Festival

Once the last of the workers passed them, he slipped into the back of the group. Sybil did the same, tugging on her hood out of habit. 

As they walked, the stone castle decorated with banners and Reunion Festival flowers grew larger and larger in front of them. Merek thought of Princess Isolde inside, preparing to rule Wulfhaven as her parents, the king and queen, grew older with each passing day. He almost felt a pang of sympathy that she'd never get the chance.

Merek smelled the sewers before he saw them. He wrinkled his nose as they rounded a corner, coming to a thin walkway right along the edge of the murky, revolting water. Chunks and foam drifted across the surface, causing him to look away. Woe to the person who falls down there.

The group stopped in front of a nondescript wooden door, and a bored-looking guard let them through one by one. It was just as the stable boy had said. Merek glanced at Sybil, who kept her head down in an effort to blend in. He followed suit, watching the feet of the person in front of him. He thought of the knives he and Sybil had hidden in their clothing, suddenly fearing the guard would somehow discover them.

But the guard barely looked at Sybil before waving her through. She walked through the door, shoulders slumping in relief in a way only someone who had spent years fighting alongside her would recognize.

Merek focused his eyes on the ground as the guard assessed him. When he stepped back and gestured toward the door, Merek hurried through. He didn't want the guard to change his mind.

He entered a sweltering kitchen, the heat of cooking fires and dozens of moving bodies causing sweat to bead on his forehead. He quickly found Sybil, and the two walked up a narrow set of stairs that led to the main floor.

The architecture alone, with soaring stone arches and stained glass windows, made Merek want to stop and gape. But Sybil forced him to keep walking, never once lifting her head to enjoy the beauty around them.

Every time the pair rounded a corner, Merek feared that one of the guards standing watch would arrest them. But no one did. Soon enough, Sybil stopped in front of another staircase. Unlike the one that led down to the kitchen, however, this one had three guards posted in front of it.

Sybil tried to walk up the stairs, but a guard stopped her. He put his hand on his sheathed sword. "This leads to the royal family's living quarters. No one is allowed up there without proper identification."

Merek took a few subtle steps toward one of the other guards. Sybil glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, undoubtedly understanding his message, before looking back at the guard with a frown. She fiddled with her cape. "I know it's somewhere."

Instead of producing identification, however, she pulled out a knife and twisted it into the man's gut. Before he could cry out, she snapped his neck. On cue, Merek sprang onto the guard he was standing beside, taking out his own knife and slitting the man's throat. He gurgled before going slack, collapsing to the ground. Merek turned to take out the third guard, but saw Sybil already standing over his body. She gave him a wild smile, one that made her eyes gleam. This was what they lived for.

They bounded up the stairs, a group of guards racing down to meet them. Sybil slipped past one and stabbed him in the back before whirling around to block another one's blade with her own. Before he could react, she'd already slashed him and moved on. When a group of guards surrounded her, she backflipped and landed behind them, slicing their spinal cords. No matter how many times Merek fought by her side, he always found her graceful movements absolutely captivating.

Merek dispatched one guard and caught his sword, leaving him with two blades instead of one. He plunged the weapons into two of the men's hearts, their hot blood spurting onto his arms. He took down guard after guard until the only people left standing were him and Sybil.

Sybil darted the rest of the way up the stairs, and he followed. They entered an ornately decorated bedroom, and, before Merek knew what was happening, Sybil sprang onto the bed and pressed a knife against a woman's throat.

"There's no use in screaming, Princess," Sybil hissed. "We already took out all your guards."

Princess Isolde's face transformed from fear to confusion as she looked up at Sybil. Merek realized with a start that Sybil's hood had slipped down, leaving the top of her head exposed.

Sybil realized it, too. Instead of fixing it, though, she yanked it off completely. Her delicate blonde hair shimmered in the morning light. Merek had never seen anyone else with hair like hers, but, standing in the castle, he finally did. Princess Isolde's hair was the same golden color, as was her parents'. Their parents'.

"They said you were kidnapped," Princess Isolde said, "but you weren't, were you?"

Sybil ignored her younger sister's question and inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. When she opened them again, any hesitation in her gaze was gone. She cut a clean line across Princess Isolde's throat.

"Happy Reunion Festival, sister."