The Ambassador's Mission

her eyebrows rose and she relaxed.

“Well, well. I haven’t seen you in a long time. What must it be? Five years?”

Cery shrugged. “I told you I was getting married.”

“So you did.” The assassin leaned against the side of the cubicle and tilted her head to one side, her dark eyes as inscrutable as always. “You also said you were the loyal type. I assumed you’d found another, shall we say, side interest.”

“You were never a side interest,” Cery told her. “Life is too complicated for more than one lover at a time.”

She smiled. “Sweet of you to say so. I can’t say the same in return – but you knew that.” Then her expression grew serious. Stepping inside, she pulled the panel closed. “You’re here for business, not pleasure.” It was not a question; it was a statement.

“You always did read me too easily,” he said.

“No, I just pretend to. Who do you need killed?” Her eyes flashed with eagerness and anticipation. “Anyone annoyed you lately?”

“Information.”

Her shoulders dropped with disappointment. “Why, why, why? All the time they want information.” She threw up her hands. “Or if they want the full deal they coward out of it before I can even get my knives sharp.” She shook her head, then looked at him hopefully. “Will the information lead to the full deal?”

She enjoys her work far too much, Cery thought. Always did. It was part of what was so exciting about her.

“It might, but then I’d rather do the job myself.”

Terrina’s lips formed a pout. “Typical.” Then she smiled and waved a hand. “But I can’t grudge you, if it’s that personal. So what do you need to know?”

Cery drew in a deep breath, bracing himself for the stab of pain that would come with what he was about to say.

“Who broke into my hideout and killed my wife and sons,” he said quietly, so none of the other patrons would hear. “If you don’t know for sure, then any gossip you’ve heard will do.”

She blinked and stared at him.

“Oh,” was all she said. She regarded him thoughtfully. The gossip of assassins rarely spread beyond their ranks. All accepted that it could be bought, for a high price, but if it led to another assassin losing trade or being killed the seller would be punished severely. “You know how much that will cost?”

“Of course... depending on if you have the information I need.”

She nodded, dropped into a crouch so she was at eye level, and stared at him earnestly. “Only for you, Cery. How long ago did it happen?”

“Nine days.”

She frowned and gazed into the distance. “I’ve heard nothing like that. Most assassins would have put it about by now. Getting into a Thief’s hideout is impressive. He’ll have tried to kill you there because it proves he’s clever. Tell me how he did it.”

He described the unbroken locks, the ambushed guards, but left out what the lockmaker had said about magic.

“I suppose they’d keep their mug shut if they were paid enough. It would cost. So the client is rich, or has saved up a long time. Either that or they did it themselves, or it was someone close to you who knew the way in – but I suppose you’ve looked into that. Or...” Her gaze snapped to him. “Or else it’s the Thief Hunter.”

Cery frowned. “But why would he wait until I went out and then kill my family?”

“Maybe he didn’t know you’d gone out. Maybe he didn’t know you had a wife and children. I didn’t tell anyone you were getting married, though that was ’cause I didn’t believe it. And if you hid them well enough...” She shrugged. “He got in, they saw him, he had to kill them ’cause they could tag him.”

“If only there was a way I could be sure.” Cery sighed.

“Every killer has their leavings. Signs. Habits. Skills. You can tag ’em from those, if you’ve got enough killings to compare.” She sighed and stood up. “I’d tell you the details about the Thief Hunter, except we’re keeping them to ourselves for now, in case one of us is the killer.”

Cery nodded. When Terrina said she would not give any more information, nothing could charm it out of her.

She looked at him and shook her head. “Sorry, I haven’t been much help. Can’t do anything but get you spooked about someone you already know about, and I can’t tell you anything useful about.” She looked away and frowned. “Can’t really charge you much for that.”

Cery opened his mouth to start bartering over the fee he’d offer her for the trouble of meeting with him, but she looked up suddenly.

“Oh, there’s one thing I can tell you, because nobody’s taking it seriously.”

“Yes?”

“People reckon the Thief Hunter uses magic.”

Cold rushed through Cery. He stared at her. “Why do they say that?”

“I thought it was because he was so good, people thought he must use magic. But I had a chat to a guard at a bolhouse once, who used to work for one of the Thieves that were done, and he says he saw a streak of light, and things flying through the air. Of course, everyone says it was the knock on the head making him see things, but... he was so sure of it, and not a man without a bit of good sense.”

“How interesting,” Cery said. It could be nothing but fancy and rumour. If I hadn’t seen for myself the lockmaker’s evidence I wouldn’t believe it. But added to other rumours of magic occurring where it should not, he was beginning to wonder how much truth there was in it.

If it was true, then either a Guild magician was getting involved in things he or she shouldn’t be, or there was a rogue magician in the city. Either way, they could have been involved in the murder of his family.

He suddenly thought of Skellin’s obvious desire to hire his own rogue magician. If this Thief Hunter is a rogue, he’ll have no problem getting close to Skellin. Hmm, should I warn Skellin? But surely he’s already heard of the rumours of magic... Ah! Maybe that’s why he asked about magic. He knew I’d had connections to the Guild in the past and was testing me to see if I still did. Which would mean he suspected I’d hired the Thief Hunter.

Then another possibility occurred to him.

Had a Thief come to this conclusion and sent an assassin to kill me, not realising they’d hired the very same magic-wielding assassin they fear so much? He frowned. At least I know it couldn’t have been Skellin, as he wouldn’t have arranged to meet with me and sent an assassin to kill me in my home at the same time.

He shook his head. The possibilities seemed endless. But here was this mention of magic again. It had been used to open the lock of his hideout, and it was believed to be used by the Thief Hunter. Coincidence? Perhaps. But it was the only clue he had, so he may as well pursue it.

Every time Sonea entered the Administrator’s office, memories wormed their way into her thoughts. Though Osen had rearranged the furniture and kept the room bright with globe lights, she could still remember how it had looked when Lorlen was alive. And she always wondered if he was aware there was an entrance to the secret passages of the University behind the panelling.

Lorlen didn’t know, so I doubt Osen does.

“Tell me how you came to be at the Nameless?” Osen asked of the two young magicians standing to the left of his desk.

All turned to look at Reater and Sherran. Sonea had been dismayed to realise the two magicians found at the house were Lorkin’s friends. The pair glanced at each other, then at the floor.

“We were given a slip of paper,” Reater said. “It gave directions to the best new playhouse in the city. There’d be free things for the first fifty customers.”

“And it was in the Inner Circle, so we assumed it was safe,” Sherran added.

“Where is this slip of paper now?” Osen asked.