Weapon of Fear (33 page)

A
pair of workers exited a swanky shop ahead carrying a rolled rug between them,
and the foot traffic bunched up.  Someone jostled Mya from behind, and she started,
her hand going to the hilt beneath her bodice.

Calm
down!  Not here…he’s not going to attack in a crowd…

She
turned to cast an admonishing look at the tall gentleman who barely
acknowledged her glare.  She took the opportunity to scan the street, the
buildings, the rooftops, but saw no sign of Hoseph.

Where
are you?

The
men moved, and people surged, forcing her eyes forward.  She strode on, tapping
her parasol and suppressing the chill up her spine. 
Just a proper
gentlewoman out for a stroll, not an assassin in fear for her life. 
She
continued up the hill, thinking of one familiar place where she might be able
to lose her deadly escort.

“Where
are you going?”  Hoseph watched Mya turn the corner from the street of the
teahouse and head toward the Heights District.  He doubted she would be staying
in the most expensive district in the city.  Alone, without resources or support
from the guild, how could she afford it?  No matter; there was nowhere she
could go where he couldn’t follow.

From
the top of the building across the street from the teahouse, Hoseph scanned the
nearby rooftops, picking out a nice flat roof next to the street Mya had turned
onto.  He faded into the shadows and reappeared exactly where he wanted, on a
level spot far in from  the roof edge.  The now-constant headache and dizziness
made falling a real danger, but standing on a flat roof hardly required
preternatural agility.  Also, this was the only way he could be sure that Mya wouldn’t
spot him.

He
leaned forward just far enough to view the street four floors below.  If he
fell, he might have time to invoke his talisman before he died.

Scanning
the shifting crowd, he picked Mya out easily.  All of her clever disguises
could not fool a high priest of Demia, sorter of souls.  He could pick out her
particular soul anywhere.  She paused with the crowd as some menials moved a
carpet across the walkway.  Someone jostled her, and she turned, looking
around, probably watching for Lady T’s assassins.  The guildmaster had been
right; Mya was careful.  He leaned back until he could barely see her over the
edge of the roof.  Finally, she moved on.

Six
more transitions through the shadows left his head feeling like daggers had
plunged into his eyes, but he remained stoic.  Mya had ventured deep into the
district, and turned into the one place he never thought she would go: the
Drake
and Lion
inn, the very place she and Lad had stayed.

“Returning
to the scene of the crime?”  He wondered how she could be so foolish, but then
considered his own reaction to her coming here.  He certainly hadn’t expected
it.  Could she be so bold?  “Your arrogance will be your undoing, traitor…”

Hoseph
settled down to wait, rubbing his temples as he watched the inn.  He had never
been inside, so couldn’t follow her using his talisman, but this might just be
a ruse, too.  Mya was nothing if not wily.  He would wait to be certain this
was truly where she was staying.  If it was, he would have Lady T find out
which room she was in.  From there, he would find a way in to kill her while
she slept.

Patience… 
Sweet shadows of death, sooth me…  Patience…

There
were four armed guards stationed beside the doorman at the
Drake and Lion
. 
They gave her a cursory glance, but a frumpy gentlewoman evidently didn’t
warrant a confrontation.  Granted, most of the swanky inn’s clientele were much
more elaborately dressed, but she didn’t look like a commoner, which was enough
to get her past.  The doorman nodded to her and did his job.

The
inn wasn’t very busy, but nobody gave her a second glance as she strode
purposefully forward, using the age-old practice of looking like she knew where
she was going to avoid questions.  Picking a bellboy of about the right size,
she stepped into his path.

“You
there, young man.  I require your assistance.  Follow me.”  She crooked a
finger and started for the stairs.

“But,
ma’am, I’m busy with another—”

She
fixed him with an intolerant stare. “
Must
I report your disrespect to
the manager and have you fired?” 

“Um…no,
ma’am.”

“Good. 
Now, follow me!”  Mya ascended the sweeping staircase, and he fell in behind,
conditioned by a lifetime of subservience to simply do as he was told.  At
least she hoped so.  At the fourth landing he was out of breath.  She hurried
down the deserted hallway to the last door and stopped.  “I’ve lost my key.  Open
this.”

“I
don’t have any keys, ma’am.  I’ll have to go check with the manager.”  He
turned to go.

Whether
he was telling her the truth or had keys and wasn’t about to open a room for
someone without approval of his boss, didn’t matter in the slightest.  Mya
struck him carefully just at the juncture of his neck and shoulder.  The blow
didn’t quite snap his neck, but dropped him like a steer in a slaughterhouse. 
She caught him before he hit the floor, and lowered him gently to the floor,
senseless, but still breathing.  Pressing her ear against the door, she
listened.

Nothing…no
voices, no breathing, no heartbeats.  Good.

Mya
gripped the shiny brass handle and twisted hard.  The lock gave way with a
crack, and she pushed open the door.  She’d chosen well; the room was small,
ornate, and unoccupied.  She dragged the unfortunate young man inside and
closed the door.

Work
fast, Mya
.

She
stripped out of her dress, shoes, and wig, and scrubbed the makeup from her
face with her pettiskirts.  Next, she stripped off the man’s uniform, and put
it on.  The shoes were too big, but she stuffed his socks into the toes and put
them on anyway.  Next, she bundled her clothing into one of the bed’s sheets,
tying the corners tight.  Her daggers she secreted under her dapper bellboy’s
jacket.  She lifted him into the bed and tucked a pillow under his head.  He
was going to wake up with a splitting headache and quite a story to tell, but
probably wouldn’t be able to identify her.  Mya picked up the bundle and hurried
out, confident that Hoseph would never spot her dressed like a hotel employee.

Hoseph
materialized on yet another rooftop and pressed his thumbs to his temples to
scour away the pain.  If it got much worse, he would have to abandon his
pursuit or risk falling to his death.  He blinked and focused, edging close to
the tenement’s roof to watch Mya enter yet another inn.  This was her third
since leaving the meeting with Lady T.  The woman truly was paranoid, changing
first into a bellboy’s uniform at the
Drake and Lion
, then back into her
dress at another inn.  Now this unassuming place only a few blocks from the
river.

He
sat down to wait, muttering a prayer to help ease the agony inside his skull. 
If she left this inn under a new guise, he’d have to try to follow.  Hoseph
knew his own limitations, and he was far too fatigued to try to kill her
today.  He would have to wait.  He’d long considered his strategy, knowing
firsthand how dangerous she was.  He had one weapon that would give him the opportunity
he needed: the invocation of soul searching.  Intended as a means to show
sinners the errors of their pasts, the invocation also had the effect of momentarily
overwhelming the recipient.  Hoseph had used the magic to great effect before,
once against Captain Norwood, and again in the palace dungeon.  He didn’t know
why it hadn’t worked on Lad, but that creature was more magic than flesh
anyway.  It had, however, knocked Mya to her knees, and should do so again.  If
he could get close enough to render her senseless, he could send her soul to
Demia and be done with it.

He
spotted two children slipping out the inn’s servants’ entrance and up the
alley.  One was almost tall enough to be Mya in disguise, but neither possessed
the assassin’s peculiar twisted soul.  Moments later, two more children left
the inn.

What’s
going on here?

Curtains
moved in a top-floor window, but not enough for him to get a glimpse inside. 
In fact, in every window above the ground floor, the draperies were pulled
closed.  On the first floor, slatted shutters blocked his view.

Patience
…

Hoseph
waited.  Two more children left, then one he hadn’t see before returned, then
an old man—the first adult he’d seen—left through the front door and strode up
the street.  Another rough-looking child approached and entered the inn again
by the back door.

Is
this some kind of school or home for street children?

Regardless,
though many had come and gone from the building, Mya was still inside.  This
appeared to be her refuge.  Hoseph would have laughed if he’d possessed
anything resembling a sense of humor.

She’s
hiding behind children?

Mya
must truly be desperate if she had resorted to recruiting the dregs of the
Downwind Quarter for cover.  Hoseph smiled through his pain.  Now that he knew
where Mya lived.  He would get a glimpse inside when the next person came or
went.  Then he would use his gifts to slip inside and kill Mya in her sleep. 
Not tonight; his fatigue hung too heavily on him. 
Perhaps tomorrow.
  It
was only a matter of time, and he could wait.

Dee
held up the bellman’s jacket Mya had stolen, suppressing a grin of admiration. 
The disguise had been quick thinking, and had probably saved Mya’s life.  Good
thing she had the slim figure to fit into the uniform, and short enough hair to
pass for a boy.  He hung it in her clothes press, thinking it might come in
handy later.  He’d take in the seams here and there to make it fit better, and
add some padding to hide her feminine curves.

“I
don’t know if Lady T was just trying to scare the shit out of me with this, or
if I’m just good at disguises, but I’m still alive.”  Mya bit her lip, pacing
as she removed her disguise.  “I must have lost him at the
Drake and Lion
.”