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Job

“Sorry about the other night, but I needed to be sure that she didn't hear.”

I walked on, as though an old hooded man had not just walked out of the darkness and whispered those words to me. I continued at my regular pace, walking through the houses, getting to know the village better. Tonight, a heavy blanket of clouds covered the sky and cold drops of half-frozen rain fell from the sky. I walked with my hood up, my gloved hands hidden within my cloak.

“She is the law here.” I said slowly. “Does she use her power to maintain control?”

The old man looked at me. “You know of her power?” He asked. Sometimes, only sometimes it was so much fun to play with people like this. Only when you knew the right things, the right words, and often they were known only by chance. Information that you would never think you could know.

“I know a little of her power.” I said. “Only I don't understand why people here fear her, unless she uses her power to hold you.”

“No, no not at all.” He said. “Most people here contend with her presence because of how much she helped to rebuild the village. However, no matter how much she did for us, she is a mage, of sorts. Artis, and Artem both destroyed by the power of magi. First the damned mage and his little apprentice, then Janace, and now her.”

“Janace?” I said. I remembered someone had mentioned seeing me as I visited Janace on my last visit here.

“Yes, Janace. The fire starter magician. He destroyed Artis. It's said that he got so frustrated with his little glass works that he burned down his whole house, and took the rest of Artis down with him.”

What a fool the man was. Ah, but let him believe that. Even though Janace was a nice man, who offered much to drink and made the most wonderful glass ornaments ever. I was very glad that Rico wasn't recognized though. Or perhaps he had been, and now I would be asked to kill him. But I knew that wouldn't be the case. Even as I thought that, even as I thought of lists of other people that the old man would be able to ask me to kill, I knew who he would ask. It was just as I had thought as I came to this small village, just as I had thought over ten years ago.

“I want you to kill Ridia.” The old man said. “ I don't trust her, no one trusts her, and yet she keeps her power here because she used her magics, and a little bit of money she happened to come into to build a few houses...Were I in charge here-” He started speaking wistfully, looking into the darkness as though scrying the future that his reign here would lead to. “-I would rebuild it more like it once had been, but with greater glory. I would have a castle built on the island, and a great maze of bridges, with enough grand houses as to house all of Rawlin!”

And you would be living in the castle, I thought. “What kind of money did she come into anyway?”

“The old man looked at me strangely for a moment. “ what does it matter to you?”

“Curiosity mostly.” I said. “I know of where she got her powers from, her magical powers as least. As for the power of gold...”

The old man shrugged, “It's not much of a story,” he said, “As far as I heard, she married a rich man, and he died leaving her childless, but with lots of money.”

“I see.”

The old man stopped, and listened to a family snoring inside one of the houses. Quickly, he slid a small pouch of dented silver coins into my hands. “Your payment.” he said. “Half of it anyway. Though no doubt you'll take the time to rob her after you've killer her. Don't worry about making it an accident. I don't much think anyone will care. She has no family, no friends. All she has is her power, and the money she used to rebuild the village.” He silently slid into the darkness between the houses, leaving me standing as the rain turned to ice and fell, stinging like bees. I clutched the bag of cold silver coins in my hands.

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***

It was still raining ice when I got back to the caravan. I had expected Christen and Rico to be in the house, sleeping. There was a small fire pit in the house, where once someone may have cooked food or stayed warm. Rico kept that alight most of the time to warm the house against the cold air that came with the night. On a night like this, I scarcely expected them to be waiting, huddled under their travel worn cloaks, by my caravan.

“You need new cloaks for winter.” I said. I unlocked the door, and opened it letting them go into the caravan. They sat down at the far end. I closed the door, and threw my cloak over a sword which hung off the wall. I lay back against the door, which was cold agains my back. From the shelf near me, I took a bottle of wine and threw it to Rico and Christen, then I took another one out for myself. “I might need more wine as well.”

“We should leave here.” Christen said. I let a sleepy gaze rest on her.

“Really?”

Rico opened the bottle of wine and took a long drink. He couldn't drink like me, but to give him credit, he tried. His best attempts, however, often resulted with him laying face-down on the ground, moaning as though he had the plague.

“Of course, we're going to leave in a few days-” I said, “But why do you say we should leave? Is there a problem?”

“Save for the village hating me, no,” Rico said, “And it wouldn't be good if someone suddenly recognized me.”

“Rico was telling me about when he was young.” Christen said. “And if the people here find out about him, and who he is-”

“You mean, the child accused of destroying Artem?”

Rico gaped at me. “How did you-”

“A man named Janace told me.” I said. “ I don't know if you might know him, but he lived in Artem when you were young.”

Rico clenched his fists around the bottle of wine, and nodded. Outside, the hail turned fierce, and bounced off the caravan.

“Essentially,” Christen said. “And if they find out, they they'll have him killed.”

“Well, you needn't worry about that, not just yet.” I said. I held up the bag of silver.

Rico drew back into Christen as I showed them the silver.

“By the gods. You've already been hired to kill me.”

“No, dolt, I haven't.” I put the silver on the shelf next to the last few bottles of wine. “I was hired to kill Ridia.”

Christen sat up, pushing Rico away from her slightly. “But you can't!” She cried.

“I'm sure I can. She's flesh and blood, any poison will make her insides melt, any dagger will make her bleed.”

“I mean-” Christen said. “You... You just can't! You-” She glanced sideways at Rico for only a brief moment. “You and Ridia know each other. And she helped us!”

“That doesn't matter.” Rico said. “He's Stiri. You know the stories.”

“Heartless, reliable.” I muttered.

“Yes, but... Well, this is different.”

“How is it different from anything, from anyone else?” I asked.

“Well, you don't want to kill her, do you?”

I looked long and hard at Christen. I remembered a while ago we had had a conversation that had led into the same questions more or less. Apparently, she remembered it also.

“Right.” She said, looking away, “You don't want to, but, you're an assassin...”

“So, you're going to do it?” Rico asked. “They want her killed because she helped me, don't they?”

I shook my head. “Your conscience can rest.” I said, “She's a mage as well, and even if she wasn't she has power here in this village. Those who would desire that power for themselves want her killed.”

I shivered as the hail started to elevate. I wondered if we would make it to Lord Necanda's castle before the snow came. I considered sleeping in the house tonight, given how cold it was. I didn't know if Christen and Rico would wish otherwise. They were getting to become attached to one another, though I didn't think Christen had forgotten about her painter just yet.

“Whatever the case may be, I don't want to stay here too long.” Rico said. I shrugged.

“Then leave. I'm not making you stay.”

“Stiri.” Christen said, “I want him here, and I've hired you. He stays and we should leave soon.”

“Most of my employers aren't so pushy.” I muttered. Of course, most of them weren't so involved either. “Give me another day here, then we leave.”

Christen looked over at Rico, who was staring, examining the floor of the caravan as though the patterns in the grain held some great secret. Finally, he said, “Fine, that should be alright.”

I had one more day in the village.