Chapter 43
A elrie opened her eyes. She’d fallen asleep last night in Fyn’s arms and woke because there was a knock at her door. Fyn roused and kissed her forehead. “Stay here, I’ll get it." He sat up and pulled on his pants.
“Shikra.” It was Kestrel’s voice at the door, sounding slightly surprised. “I came looking for Sparrowhawk, but it seems I’ve found you here too.” Her tone hinted at more, but her words gave nothing away. “The mistress requests both of you.”
There was a pause. “I suggest you bathe first, but don’t take long. You know it’s best not to keep her waiting.”
Less than an hour later, Fyn and Aelrie were standing before Mistress Valeria, bathed, freshly clothed, with hair neat and hers up in her signature ponytail.
“Shikra. The wayward son returns home. Where is the payment I sent you to retrieve?”
“Here, Mistress Valeria.” Fyn handed her a leather pouch. It looked like it weighed a good amount, full of gold coins.
“And why am I receiving this just now?” Her tone was never harsh, but the subtle tension in the air was distinctly felt.
“Forgive me, mistress. I came back late at night.”
Valeria’s eyes moved to Aelrie. She then frowned. “I see.”
Fyn shifted a bit but then remained stationary.
The mistress walked closer to the two of them, but she fixed her gaze on Aelrie.
“I will inform Sparrowhawk of your mission, Shikra, for she should know it too. You see, a messenger arrived just after you came to us, Sparrowhawk. From Alfheim. In the message, there was a request for the assassination of a certain Light Elf councilor.”
Mistress Valeria paused for a moment before continuing. “The same councilor who ordered the assassination of the high priestess.”
Her mouth opened at the revelation. This was it! She might get her answer.
“Who?” Her voice was small, but her entire body tensed, awaiting an answer from the mistress.
“Vainir Neverwinter, I am sure you have heard his name before.”
Vainir … Vainir Neverwinter…
Why would Councilor Neverwinter want Lindana dead? He was popular, well-known for his benevolence, generosity, and good looks. All the young girls talked about him, swooned over him, and most elves trusted him and respected him.
A memory then came to her. When she ran from the temple to chase Fyn after Lindana’s death, Vainir had been there, outside near the markets.
He hadn’t looked stupefied or in shock like the rest of the elves that day after an assassin crashed through the marketplace, chased by the temple guards.
He’d been waiting, watching. And she’d been so na?ve.
When Aelrie cleared her head, she looked over to see Mistress Valeria staring at her with a curious gleam in her red eyes. Fyn was standing beside her, wearing a frown. She’d shown too much, been too affected by the mistress’s revelation.
“Did you know they were lovers?” the mistress then said matter-of-factly.
“Who?” It was all she could ask at present. Her body still shook from the previous statement.
“Your high priestess and the councilor, child.”
Her head spun. She was too dizzy to stand, but she couldn’t show weakness, not here. “I … I …” Her voice came out weak and cracked, her throat dry.
Mistress Valeria didn’t wait long enough for her to stutter out a response. “It seems these events all revolve around you, Sparrowhawk. What a coincidence … This will be your first outside mission. Fail, and you will be killed.”
Valeria then turned to Fyn. “Shikra, you will accompany Sparrowhawk to Alfheim. It is her job to get you inside the city. It is your job to make sure the objective is completed. If she fails in any way, you are to kill her. If she runs away, you are to hunt her down and kill her. Do you understand your mission, Shikra?”
Turning to Fyn, she searched his profile as he faced Mistress Valeria. He was silent and did not respond .
“Answer me. Tell me the truth.” It was another command from the mistress. The power of blood magic.
“Yes,” Fyn then answered. “I understand, Mistress Valeria.”
She shivered at the confirmation.
“Oh,” Valeria sighed, and then a subtle smile cracked across her faux saddened face. “Sweet love, how oft it turns bitter.”
She turned to Aelrie. “Let the story of Vainir and your high priestess be a lesson for you.”
Valeria addressed both of them. “Collect your weapons, eat a meal, do what you must, but meet me here in an hour. You will leave immediately after.” They were dismissed. The blood magic tugged at her body, telling her to leave the sanctum.
“You knew Vainir came here?” She turned to Fyn once they left, and the blood magic relinquished its hold on them.
Fyn answered her this time, no need to hide the truth from her now, as she was embroiled in it.
“I saw him once. He visited not long before I left for Alfheim, and he dined in private with the mistress. He was the only Light Elf I’ve seen come to the manor.
Most clients, if they are not Dark Elves, I go to the surface to meet on behalf of the mistress. ”
“A Light Elf came here to Myrkheim?” she gasped. And not just any Light Elf, a councilor … to a house of assassins, House Nightshade. It would be nothing short of treason to the Elven Council if they were to ever find out about it.
“We have a private entrance to the surface. ”
“Who did you meet when you were gone for those few days?”
“The same elf who let me into the temple. I met him halfway to Alfheim on the outskirts of a Light Elf town on the road.” He was answering her plainly now.
There was nothing left for him to hide from her.
Or maybe … he didn’t want to hide things from her anymore.
Whatever it was, this change in him, she appreciated the honesty.
“Nerilion Silvercoin,” she spoke more to herself than to him.
Was he the mastermind behind this? He had always seemed to her a polite yet distant elf.
His visits to their temple from his temple, the Temple of the Eternal Truth, were always officially sanctioned and documented, but he was free to roam and do what he wanted while there.
Did he have eyes on the Temple of the Starsun?
Also, what Fyn did earlier still hung heavily in the air between them. His vow to Mistress Valeria was to kill her should she fail.
“We will talk after we leave,” he whispered to her. “When we are alone, without prying ears.”
Kestrel walked up to them. “Sparrowhawk. Shikra.”
Fyn eyed her. “Kestrel.” His tone was even, casual, but his jaw tightened.
Kestrel lifted her chin and nose into the air. There was a slight change in her temperament. Was an emotion peeking out that she had hoped not to show?
“Sparrowhawk needs a weapon,” Kestrel said to Fyn, but looked at Aelrie.
She had the short dagger she took from Falco, but that wasn’t enough to get her through the wilds.
“Sparrowhawk, which weapon do you excel at the most?” Kestrel asked her, now directing the question solely to her.
“The bow,” she answered. “But a short sword will do.”
Kestrel frowned, a slight downturn of her lips. “Assassins do not duel. Strike fast to kill quickly and disappear back into the shadows. I will give you a dagger for close combat. Follow me.”
She snuck a glance at Fyn before she followed Kestrel to the armory, which was located beside the training grounds outside.
Kestrel searched through rows of daggers.
The black daggers Fyn had now, he got in Sintal, and they were custom-made.
He probably paid a lot out of pocket to have them forged quickly.
But the weapons in this armory were simple, with no magic enchantments, and, not only that, were plain and unappealing to look at.
“Shikra will assist you on your mission. Usually, we work alone, but since you are new, he is accompanying you. You are not to engage in combat unless absolutely necessary. But do not worry, Shikra will be there to protect you. He is … efficient. But the target is yours to kill, so don’t expect Shikra to do it for you.
Make your way to your target, get close, kill quickly, and escape. ”
Kestrel handed her a dagger. It was a stiletto, and unlike the other daggers in the armory, it was delicate looking, ornate, and silver with a swirled hilt. She looked out to the training grounds once Aelrie took the dagger from her. “Practice with her a bit and see how she handles.”
Aelrie sat on the edge of her bed after she got done training with the stiletto.
Its blade was thin and sharp, like the stinger of a bee, and it was only good for striking, not slashing.
But it was easy to carry and use, almost weightless, it was so light, and one strike to a vital was all she needed for a clean kill.
Now she just had to kill a councilor with it.
Vainir Neverwinter and Lindana Goldenbough, was there strife between the families? She’d heard nothing of the sort, but what would she know about such things? She was merely Lindana’s personal guard and not a noble lady from a powerful family privy to these dangerous secrets.
What she knew of Vainir was that he had always been a generous donor to the temple, as his father had been before him. And the Goldenbough family rose from obscurity after Lindana’s ascension to high priestess, but there was no other connection between the Neverwinters and Goldenboughs before that.
Not that she’d been aware of.
But … this also meant Lindana had a lover after taking a vow of celibacy and making her take one as well. Somehow, that cut deeper than the betrayal from the councilor whom she knew by name and reputation only.
Lindana had no problems with Aelrie’s vow of celibacy, depriving her of love and intimacy while she basked in the comforts of a lover.
The same lover who killed her. It was almost fitting .
Was she mad at Lindana?
She had to think about that before she could answer it, but right now she didn’t know what to think. Her world had come crashing down upon her for a second time.
Lindana had lied to her, manipulated her, and deprived her of all the love she so freely escaped to once her duties of high priestess were done for the day.
Was that when the two of them would meet, after Lindana retired to her chambers at the end of the day, when she was supposed to be utterly alone, piously virginal in her solitude because her position was a higher calling, something that required great sacrifice?
Because that is what Aelrie had done at the end of each day.
Gone back to her tiny bedroom and stared at the ceiling until she fell asleep, squashing any kernel of desire that rose in those lonely few minutes before slumber finally claimed her.
She’d been so na?ve in trusting the high priestess.
That’s probably why Lindana chose her when others insisted she choose another personal guard with more experience.
But Lindana had wanted her personal guard to come from the new recruits.
Lindana hadn’t chosen her because there was a connection between the two, as she had always assumed.
She’d chosen her because she was the most na?ve-looking cadet she could find.
Lindana’s deception had started before Aelrie even met her. Perhaps she had even been selected as the next high priestess because of Vainir’s influence. For such a young elf to be chosen as high priestess, and from an otherwise unknown family …
But what good did knowing that do for her now? And what of her revenge?
Her mind had cooled. The anger was gone. It was replaced with indifference.
She’d done all she could for the former high priestess. It seemed Lindana’s lies caught up with her in the end, killed by her own lover. There was no need to avenge her death.
This was Aelrie’s revenge no longer.
But she felt so used. Did she not deserve recompense? She had been wronged for such a long time.
The room seemed darker, colder. She should be happy to finally get an answer, but now that she had one, she didn’t feel vindicated, only emptier.
A thought then came to her—she would have her revenge. And not revenge for Lindana’s death, but revenge for herself. For stealing her life and her future from her. She was no one’s pawn. Not Lindana’s and not Mistress Valeria’s.
She made up her mind in that moment. She was going to kill Vainir Neverwinter, not because of Mistress Valeria’s order or whoever paid for the assassination, but for no one but herself.