Chapter Twelve

I woke up in the morning, fully rested, and happy that I didn't Travel anywhere last night. The sun isn't up just yet, and I hear the sounds of cooking already drift into the temporary boarding from the kitchens. I dress and come out of my leaders' quarters to find everyone but Dakota in their beds. I smiled, and left them where they were as I searched for food and Dakota.

I find both at once, Dakota eating a plate of sausage and eggs. I sit at the bar next to him, order the same thing, and look at him until he glances over.

"Good morning. Seen the last group yet?" I ask, since I don't see them hanging around here.

"Nope, and I haven't heard them leave town yet either…Sleep okay? Anything interesting happen if you Traveled…?" He asks almost a question, but not quite one. Like he's trying to be extra nice.

"Er…no. I just slept normally, thank god." I say, but he gives me such a look that my mind flashes to Maddie, then to Silver Raven, but I push both away from my mind as my food get's set on the bar table.

We eat in silence, and as I'm finishing, the rest of our group stumbles in, looking for food, and us. Spotting us eating, or rather, Dakota eating and me drinking water. They search for seats and order food. Dakota is chewing his last bite when Lewis strolls in alone. He glances at our mottley group just getting their food, to Dakota and me, who are just finishing. He wisely approaches us, lifting a hand in greeting.

"Just came by to show you where your guard house is before we head off. You can show the rest of your crew when they're awake and fully functional." Lewis waves off an offer for breakfast, claiming he'd eat on the road.

We follow Lewis through the streets to the true town square. The ground is paved, and a simple fountain stands in the center of the circular town square. He leads us to a two story building that stands alone, which, as I've observed, is unusual for this town.

It's made of wood, concrete, and thick looking windows. The door has a metallic sheen, making me think it's made of steel, which is all explained. "The basement is the jail for the town. We have just the normal drunk drying out in there right now. I've left detailed instructions about the people of the town, when to arrest someone, and what to do in some situations. The townspeople don't like change very much, so stick very closely to it. It's on the desk in the captain's quarters.

"That door is marked, the one for the leaders, but the rest are up for grabs for the rest. The leaders room and the office are on the top floor, along with our bathroom, and everyone else's stuff is on the first floor." He strolls through the house, pointing out the kitchen, the bathroom for the rest of the group, the sitting room with three desks. He points out the stairs that go up, then leads us down a staircase to the basement, to meet the one prisoner, who, according to Lewis, is often here.

Whatever I might have been expecting, it wasn't what I got. The floor is polished wood, the walls are the same light blue painted color, and the six cells on each side of the hall are pretty adequate and could fit ten men in each cell comfortably. Two bunk beds, a toilet, and a desk attached to the ground are in each cell, and there is still plenty of floor space. One cell at the back is occupied.

Lewis introduces us to a man in shaggy clothes, with yellow teeth, black knotted hair, and bloodshot eyes. He has a scruffy beard, and is laying on the bottom bunk of a bed with an arm thrown over his eyes. "This is Leonard Harris, or just Leo. Leo, this is the new group leader, Gene." Leo sits up and squints at us, trying to figure out who is the new leader. Lewis points to me, and Leo frowns.

"Well, I'll be…We got ourselves a darn girl sheriff in town. Maybe she won' arrest me this time 'roun." He says, grinning and showing off a mouthful of yellow teeth.

"Not so sure about that, Leo. But I'm a'leavin today, and she's taking over, so listen to her, you hear?" Lewis says, looking Leo in the eyes.

"Yeah, I hear, boss-man. Listen to the pretty lady, tip me hat, piss in the fountain, be a gentleman," Leo says, grinning more broadly. Lewis sighs, then leads us back upstairs. We encounter a red-haired girl, one that I met last night. She was one of the people doing the Irish jig and starting the brawl.

"I thought I told you guys to wait at the edge of town." Lewis says, his voice stern and harder than usual.

"Ye, I kno, I forgot somfin." She says in a thick accent, and holds up a little notebook. She glances at us. "E'm Mallory O'Kelly," she says, making her lilting Irish accent even stronger.

"Hi, I'm Gene, though you probably already know that." I say, smiling sheepishly. She grins.

"Ye, I does. E'mma ge' goin', and also, the horses sta' stabled at the bar. We don' hav' a stables here a this darn house. Goo' Luck." She adds, then parts with Lewis in tow. Dakota and I stand there in silence, looking at each other in silence until I speak.

"I'm going to check out upstairs. You can keep exploring, or get the others and their stuff." Dakota opts for getting the others and departs, leaving me alone in an empty house. Well, I have Leo, but he doesn't really count. I go up the stairs Lewis pointed out, and locate my room, and find out that every stair and floor board on my floor squeaks.

The top floor consists of four doors, all but one marked. There's the bathroom and the bedroom on the left, and the office and the unmarked door on the right. I check out the rooms, finding a stripped bed, a stack of clean linens, and a thirty page binder; the instructions from Lewis, in the bedroom. The office is just a desk with a chair behind it, and two chairs in front of it. The bathroom is a bathroom, with a stall shower. The unmarked door is locked, surprise surprise. I look for a key but don't find anything but a linen closet and a dirty plate in the sink. 

I wash the plate, check the other bedrooms to make sure they have clean linen; they do. I sit on the plain gray couch in the living room and my eyes grow heavy. Amending to closing them for a moment, I curl up and close them.

When I open my eyes, I hear the rest of the team exploring the house. I must have fallen asleep, I think as Dakota walks in, finding me blinking away the sleep out of my eyes and sitting up. "Sorry, I fell asleep by accident. So…everyone here now?" I ask.

"Yeah, and I grabbed your stuff too. There was a slight scuffle for rooms, but that was all that happened. Oh, and I warned them away from the basement jail and the top floor," he says, sitting beside me. Thanks. Remind me to set my alarm tonight, and to buy some pastry making supplies later today during a break. You keep the house and people down. I'm going to walk the street by myself." I stand up and walk out, dodging the questions from everyone else.

On the street, I just wander, looking out for trouble while thinking. At noon, I have to go and collect my target information from Jake, the owner of that Inn and bar we stayed at last night. His Inn, The Blood Moon Saloon, is like a post office, way station, and saloon rolled into one. I huff a laugh and shake my head as I watch some kids playing chase. They stop to stare at me, and I give them a smile and a wave. As I walk, I notice that this town is a lot like my mom and dad's town. Peaceful. People just doing their own thing, maybe visiting briefly with someone before continuing on their way. I take a U-turn and head back towards The Blood Moon Saloon, BMS as I'm going to call it from now on.

I round a corner of a more secluded street, and run into four teen boys. All are younger or the same age as me. I assess the situation. The oldest is holding the next oldest up by the shirt against a wall. The other two are goonies of the oldest. I whistle, and the three bullies' heads snap around to look at me. I even hear a neck crack, and I wince at that.

"Hello boys! Do we have a problem here?" I ask, and the head bully grins, probably thinking that I'm a push-over. He lets go of the boy and he leans against the wall.

"No Ma'am, don't believe we do. You just be on your merry way, and we can finish our business here, or you can get a thumpin 'too." He starts turning back to the victim, thinking that I've been easily cowed by his big muscles and alpha boy demeanor.

"I think we do, in fact, have a problem. I'm going to need you to leave the poor boy alone and tell me your name," I say, stepping closer. He holds his ground, shoving the boy to his minions.

"No can do, on that first one, and my name's Derrick, Derrick Cory." He says that proudly, like I should be cowed by his name too. 

"Well, my name is Genevieve Potter, and you should be scared of my name. I'm on my way to pick up information on a kill I have scheduled to do. You should be hoping and praying that your name isn't on my list. I've been trained to kill, trained to hurt someone if need be. The last person I offed was Mr. Rabbit. I skinned him alive to get the information I needed." I pause, and Derrick scoffs.

"Ah, you skinned a bunny rabbit; that's not-" He says, but I interrupt what he was saying.

"Scary? It should be, since Mr. Rabbit was as surely a man as you are, a horrific one at that. He died when I was pulling his nails out to skin his hands. I dumped him in front of his wife's house to send the message: Don't hurt innocents, physically or mentally. You got the message, the first warning. Don't make me give you a second, like I did him." His friends run off in one direction, the boy in another, and Derrick stays rooted in place, sensing that I'm not done with him.

"Now Derrick, can I trust you?" I ask after the others are out of sight. He nods, and I continue. "I need you to watch for a strange lady who comes and stays in town. She'll be my height and has blond hair. You see her, report to me everything you see and notice." 

He frowns, but nods. "What do I get?" He asks this hesitantly, like he doesn't want to anger me into skinning him.

I think for a moment. "What do you really want?" His face lights up in excitement as he thinks.

"I really want to be Sheriff, so we don't have to rely on Fate Chosen for our security and safety." He says this with pure delight before remembering that I'm Fate Chosen.

"Hmmm…How about every time you give me one piece of information, I tell you or teach you one thing. You can ask questions, or just let me choose at random. And a copper," I add, thinking it fair.

"Three coppers and a lesson," He counter-offers, bargaining with my diminishing funds.

"Three lessons and a copper." I say, and I see in his eyes his acceptance. "Good. Now I have to get going. See you around, kid." I start to walk past him.

"Wait! How did you know I was gonna agree?" He asks and I grin.

"Free lesson: Watch people's eyes and body language; it can tell you a lot. Bring me something and I'll tell you what to look for." Without looking, I know he's dedicating it to memory.

I don't encounter any more problems on the way to the Saloon. Jake's behind the bar, wiping down the counters because there are only two other people inside. "Slow day?" I ask, sitting on a bar stool.

"Yeah, but It'll be packed later, so I have no worries. I got an envelope for you, which is strange this early in your stay here. It's either family, or a kill." He says that with a little worry. Then he reaches down and pulls out a big yellow envelope, handing it to me. It's somewhat heavy. I tear it open right then and there, pulling out the contents onto the bar table. A manilla case folder, and a sack of something heavy and metal comes out. I focus on the folder first. My target's name is Wade Vandran, committed smuggling of fugitives, theft, two recorded accounts of murder, five attempts of murder. Yikes. A slip of paper falls out. It tells me what's in the bag. "A pre-kill pay?" I whisper, looking at the bag I just opened, full of gold and silver coins.

"Ah, yeah. That's the money that you get before the kill, with the target information. It's like…insurance that you'll do the kill, since you get twice, or even three times as much as that when you turn in your report," Jake tells me, and I suddenly have a hard time breathing. I stuff the folder, and money, back into the envelope.

"I've got to go. See you later, Jake." I say, then rush out like the hounds of hell are nipping at my heels. I don't stop until I'm inside the Fate Chosen house. Dakota strides into the entryway to see who's there, and finds me leaning against the door, breathing like a prize horse after a race.

"What happened?" He asks, holding me steady while guiding me to the couch. The rest of the team are out patrolling, getting the feel of the village. He notices the envelope, but waits until I start talking. "My target," is all I say, and he understands immediately. That I'm going to be taking my first soul off this Earth, even if he deserves it.

"What'd he do to get on your list?" Dakota asks.

"Murdered two kids, an eight and six year old. That's what got him on my list." I told him what I hadn't registered earlier. "But he also smuggled fugitives, stole from the government." He flinches, because he knows how heavy of an offense stealing from the priests is. That leaves us both wondering why he didn't get on my list for that.

"Yikes…that's bad. Like, really bad. Did they specify the kill?" He asks. We were taught that there might be a specific way our target was to be killed, but not always.

"No, just that I have to do it myself. Probably so I can prove that I have what it takes to do the job on my own." I say, slouching over the arm of the couch.

"Makes sense. Need to know that you have it in you to kill your target. Any idea where he is?" He asks, and I shrug.

"Nope, but I'm sure my informant will know. Barely a day here, and I've got myself a spy." I say smugly, remembering that lesson from my father and Master when he addressed spies and informants.

It was after a long, hot day of training and killing theory that I asked how to find our targets when even the officials don't know sometimes. My father had set down his fork and looked me straight in the eyes, his own gleaming with mischief. I'll never forget his words. "Spies and local informants are often more observant than officials and, when bribed right, will give you any information, including who his granny had fun with the night before."

"Spies? Sounds like something from a book." I say, scoffing a little. Dakota, Hal, and mother stop eating to watch the exchange.

"Yes, the younger and scruffier the better. They can walk around unnoticed, and they're local, so they probably know the in's and out's of the people and town. Just make sure you have the right bribe, good enough that the other people can't bribe them over, but not so good that they get lazy. I would suggest services or food more than coin, usually, because nobody can replace the services. Depends on the situation though. Street rats will do anything for food and a little coin.The higher up in the hierarchy of the town, the more likely they'll take favors with coin. Just beware the scammer, who offers very little information, or fake stuff." He picked up his fork and began eating again, signaling that the lesson was over.

"This applies to you too, Dakota." Father had added, and the tension in the room broke, everyone laughing.

"What? Already? How?!" Dakota asks, sputtering, gaining my attention with rapid-fire questions. I smirk, then sit up, because posture is important for mind games with rivals and staying in shape. Another tip from my Master.

"Yep, already. And a true assassin never exposes their secrets." I say, then frown. "Wait. Scratch that. A true assassin never kills and tells." I groan, still not finding the right phase. Dakota laughs.

"I think what you're looking for is 'a true magician never reveals their secrets.'" He laughs harder as I growl at him. Magicians…A powerful subset of humans, now thought extinct because of the supposed magical properties that their blood holds. THey were hunted and drained. Their blood sold at the black market for hundreds of gold an ounce. That happened over forty years ago. The blood was favored by assassins and criminals, as it heightened your senses, like sight and hearing and smell; it made you faster, lighter on your feet, stronger. 

"Nope, sorry to disappoint, but I am no magician.So the phase should be 'a true assassin never tells their secrets.'" I say, and Dakota snorts, which makes me laugh, because that sound resembled a pig sound so much that I almost glanced around to check for one.

Dakota fully lowers himself to the floor, and groans in relief to be out of the squat. At the orphanage, he had always hated leg day, which included squats. He glares at my barely contained laughter. He finally gives in and laughs with me, reminding me just how young we are.

In the world before The Change and discovery of magic, sixteen year olds were going to school, hanging out with friends, enjoying the last years of childhood. Now…we're being sent out to be trained for jobs that we don't get to choose. Before, freedom and rights were already dwindling to the chosen few that could afford it. 

When magic was discovered by the government, they decided to take ⅓ of the population's children, all younger than two, so that they could create nice little soldiers. Those nice little soldiers even killed for them. That led to the job choosing by a priest that is isolated from all worldly influence. From there, freedom dwindled to a thing of the past, a word in our dictionary that means nothing to us, because we have never experienced true freedom, because we're too busy killing whoever is put on the list by someone rich enough and doing the jobs that no one else wants to do.

Dakota and I have stopped laughing as I've woolgathered. He's staring into my eyes, and I into his, the tension so thick it's like a swamp that we're drowning in with no hope of escape. He opens his mouth to say something, but the front door opens, letting in a stampede of feet, breaking whatever was happening. Our team has decided that they are done with patrol. I look at Dakota, and he shakes his head. 

"I'll deal with them. You go put this in your room, away from the curious eyes of our team." He says, tapping the folder on the seat cushion next to me. I get up and take the folder, then start to leave the room when Maddie, John, Luna, and the wolf walk in. I smile, and keep going, pausing in the doorway to look back. Even when dealing with the craziness that is our team, he feels my gaze on him, looking up to meet it. Before him, I never thought eyes could speak for you or ask questions.

With one look, I know that he's asking if I'm okay, what was that moment we just had? and if we're okay. I give him a soft smile in return before turning heel and going to my room, the sound of his voice swirling around my head.

On my last round for the night, my spy finally finds me with information. "I found your lady, or rather, she found me snooping around." Derrick admits sheepishly. "She was nice about it, too. She's staying at the Blood Moon. She told me to tell you this: Patrol the skies, and the silver raven of the moon will guide you." He pauses. "A bit cryptic, but how many lessons or questions do I get for this?" He asks, hands in his pockets, most likely thinking that I'd go back on my word, and wouldn't give him anything. I smile, then dig into my purse. I toss him a coin.

"This, plus four lessons or questions. Keep up the good work. See me tomorrow for the lessons at noon." I see his shock at discovering that I had tossed him a gold coin. I wave a hand and walk away, thinking. Patrol the skies most likely refers to the rooftops, so I'll do roof patrol. The rest means that Silver Raven is meeting me in person at midnight. Great, now I get to meet a rebel, someone I should kill on sight, so that she can probably help me kill my target and maybe try to persuade me to join their cause. Not that I will ever join them.

The rebels are for people who don't want to listen and follow the rules that others before us have put into place to keep us safe. We don't have to like them, but we also don't need to disregard them completely. They were put in place for a reason that most don't know, that I believe I have figured out. 

I shake my head, clearing away my theories as I finish my round. I find nothing as the sun sets on this boring, normal town, set out of the way. I head home to find that the others are writing their reports of the day, Luna on the couch with Brother Wolf at her feet while the others work at their desks. I clear my throat to get their attention. They look up, see my serious face, and drop their pens and pencils.

"All of us patrol during the day, and I'll have one person on night patrol. They will be done at six in the morning when the others come out for day patrol. They can sleep until noon before rejoining the day shift. This night shift will be cycled through all of us, and I will start on tonight's shift.

"Give your reports to Dakota, and he'll get them to me." I turn around without waiting for a reply and go to the kitchen for a snack. It has turned dark by the time I have finished. I find my way back to a place I scouted earlier. The streets are eerily quiet as I make my way. A howl hoots, and I snort after I jump. In the only alley I've found in this town, are crates stacked against a wall. A wall that is only one story high.

I scale the crates, making my way up to the roof, where I stand to gather my wits and see exactly where I am. I make a footpath against the dry tile roofs, then clamber to the next building over a small divide. I scan the area, which contains no concerns. I find my way to the tavern, and just watch the lights bouncing out from the bar and seep into the streets. The only thing that announces her arrival is the barely noticeable sound of cloth moving in the wind. I turn, and there she is, at my side. After all of the Spirit Traveling to her, it feels…surreal, to see her in person. 

And with no mask. Obviously, she is masking her features with makeup and dyes and loose clothes. Her hair is a dirty blonde, but it is her, no mistake. I could recognize her still but fluid stance anywhere. She stands on the balls of her feet, shifting with the way the wind blows. The feeling her aura presents though, is a whole different…strength, gives a new meaning to that word. She speaks first, sending my eyes to search the sky.

""The night is beautiful, but holds many horrors. The screams of men pierce the silent dark, destroying the serene scene."" It sounds like a poem, but not one I've heard before. "I'm glad you made it. I was worried your little "friend" wouldn't be able to find you."

"He is capable. What is it that you want? What do you want from me?" I ask this wearily, really not sure of her purpose here. This makes her smile, the makeup around her mouth cracking a bit.

"Yes, well, it is not something I want from you. I want to help you with something. To be exact, I'm here to help prepare for your first kill."