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Apathy [S3_C9] Season of the changing wind {3}

Apathy [S3_C9] Season of the changing wind {3}

Fenella Tirsten

Execute caution. She had heard those words spoken countless times, even by her own lips. Never had they struck her so hard. Those few runes he wrote to send her off.

And that other deal… Wait for support.

For the past five years her sole purpose, her reason to live came down to one task. Find them. Kill them. Over those five years he had never chastised her, never made any complaints about her service and never shown to care. They had this sweet, sweet deal worked out. She would do his bidding and he would give her names.

Names of those who knew other names. Sometimes, the names from her past. Eventually names that brought her to the names she could put a face to.

And kill.

There were eight faces etched within her memory of that night.

One died without a name when she escaped.

One was sold by the name she received on a piece of charred paper after her first assignment. He screamed like a pig.

One hid under several names. His skin sizzled in the oil of the pan he used to cook his noodles in the market.

One was given to her in a box in exchange for another's life. He screamed while the box became the centerpiece of a bonfire.

The others still roamed at large. For now. It did not matter. Not if one of those names will take her to the woman of golden skin. She had prepared something special for her…

“Judge Tirsten?”

The clerk’s bored eyes waited for her to return to the present.

“Yes?”

“Your signature.”

His finger pointed at an empty space next to a list of items she received. Ten thousand gold rua. Half in guild bonds, four thousand in gold, rest in silver. Mark of seniority etched in metal plate. Letters of unbound passage. One box of white pills. One brass key.

“Thank you. This is the key to your room. Please rest while we prepare your mounts and supplies. Your companion is already waiting at the inn across the street.”

She dumped the items into her satchel and left.

Companion. Like hell she would need one. Working alone gave her better results and most often turned out to be a healthier alternative. Especially for her companions. She lost nine so far and did not plan on loosing one more. Not after what happened to that girl. Her face, her eyes…

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

You killed me. You killed me like your sister. I trusted you and you killed me.

The pills weren’t working so well anymore. She swallowed one more and waited in an alley for the tremors to pass.

Only gods knew how sorry she was. How much she wanted to grasp that outstretched hand.

But she didn’t. She made the call. Had she stopped the incantation even more people would die. Only if she would finish earlier. Just a heartbeat faster and the portal would close before that thing could pull the girl all the way in.

But she didn’t.

How many more must die? Why? What for?

She clenched her fists as if it would stop the spasms in her arms. It didn’t. But it calmed her. It calmed her mind and slowed her breathing. Her heart found its natural rhythm.

Soon. Just a bit more. The trail might be cold by now but there were always some breadcrumbs left along the way. Fenella excelled at finding those.

Calmed, she crossed the street and entered the inn. Tall, soaring fire cast a pleasant warmth and light at the nearby tables. With the evening so cold she gladly welcomed that warmth. Shame the same couldn’t be said about the company.

“Baldy?”

Deep in thought over some ale, Bursa sat at the only occupied table.

Bitch.

His lips did not move but his eyes and the frown on his forehead spoke loud enough for her to understand. He pulled his plaque on the table and waited for her to do the same. She tossed the ting at him. Her mark of seniority outweighed his own. She would lead this party.

“Orders?”

He asked going back to his ale.

“We sit and wait for the damn kabu to get ready or go upstairs and fuck like rabbits. Both equally fruitless. Take your pick.”

A wave of exhaustion coughed up to her the moment she sat down beside him. Bursa gave her a taxing look, his eyes lingering over her chest.

“Work over pleasure…”

“Oh, shut the fuck up. Last I want from you is to hear all that philosophical bulshit.”

Well, the man had an iron patience. She had to give that to him. Aside from the old man, only he could stand her presence longer than several minutes. He focused back on his ale. They sat silent for a moment. She leaned against his arm. It wasn’t all that bad.

“Von Ferreha. They’re still interrogating those captured, aren’t they?”

Fenella asked, her voice came tired. Almost meek.

“Yes.”

“And?”

“And what you’d expect? You can squeeze nothing else but life itself from a man under geas.”

She put her hand on his knee.

“I haven’t had anyone in a long time. Would you reconsider?”

Bursa did not answer buy neither he did anything about her hand.

Her eyes were so heavy.

“When did you sleep last time?”

She couldn’t quite remember. Was it yesterday or a week ago? She had gone back and forth along the roads until they recalled her. The search was deemed futile, the track went cold.

“What does it matter? I can sleep later. We must find her as soon as we can and we’re wasting our time waiting for some fucking kabu!”

She wanted to slam her fist against the table, but her arm disobeyed her.

“You won’t help her if you’re dead.”

She reached for the box of pills. He grabbed her hand.

“Enough. Those are meant to be used in emergency. No more of that. You need real rest.”

“You have no idea what they’ll do to her. What they did to me and my sister…”

“I’ve read the report. Garbannel is fully aware why they would want her. He is looking and when he find’s her, we better be where he wants us to be.”

And kill whoever he wants them to kill. Be it the woman herself. They were not to be allowed yet another sacrifice.