Len stared at the prone form of the assassin, surprised that a blow like that had done her in. It had been a lucky punch that hadn’t felt right as it was landing, like there was more resistance that should’ve come her way that just never arrived. Maybe she’d hit her head at just the right angle? What was going on here? Slowly, she crept up to the woman, wary of a trick.
“What’s going on,” asked Keris from the corner she was cowering in. “Did you kill her?”
“Shut up,” Len hissed at her. “I’m checking.”
Gingerly, she kicked the woman in the side. This elicited a small groan of pain, barely more than a whimper. Len kicked again, harder, hard enough to feel something break from the force. Again, barely a protest. Starting to believe it was real, she grabbed the woman’s arms and held them above her head, doing her best to restrict any movement if this was all just a serious commitment to the deception. Then she saw blood oozing down the woman’s front, creeping out from the suit.
Lifting the folds of the suit open, she saw the source of the blood: one of those card-shaped blades she’d been using had nicked her. The wound itself wasn’t deep, but now that Len could see it clearly, she could see a shadowy goo coating it that reminded her suspiciously of Pitch. She shot a glare at Cammie.
“Did you do this?” she snapped.
“Of course I didn’t,” yelled Keris, confused.
“Not talking to you. Shut up. Cammie, did you do this?”
“So what if I did. She was trying to kill you and I wanted to protect what little remains of my existence.”
“If I’d wanted your help, I would have asked. I was handling it.”
“Oh, I’m sure of that. You were barely holding your own while she was warming up. What the hell were you going to do when she really started moving. Just thank me and be done with it.”
“Thank you for acting without my permission? No chance of that. What did you do, exactly?”
“Oh, just a little kiss on that blade. She’ll spend the next several hours in impossible pain, unable to even cry out, then she’ll pass on without telling anyone what happened here. Congratulations, your reputation is safe and secure, and no one will know that you relied on the Forces of Evil (™), to earn your victory.”
“This isn’t a joke, Cammie. Fix her.”
“What?!” That seemed to genuinely catch the shade off guard. “You can’t be serious. She’s just going to try and kill you again.”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong. Just because I’m pissed at you for giving me this opportunity doesn’t mean that I’m gonna let it slip away. Still, I don’t want her dying right now, especially as a result of your interference. You CAN fix her, right?”
“It’s a simple enough thing, but I don’t for the life of me know why you’d be interested in sparing her,” Len shot her a withering glare. “Fine, fine. It shall be as you wish, o master of mine.”
So saying, the shade hopped off the countertop and took a place beside Len. Deftly, she reached down and touched the darkening wound. With a downright disturbing sucking sound, tendrils of shadow coalesced at her fingers, drawing whatever poison she’d injected the woman with out of her. Cammie then brought her fingers to her lips, kissed them, then bounded away.
While this was going on, Len had been busy tying the woman’s hands and feet with some fabric that was lying around. It wasn’t as effective as a nice roll of duct tape, but it would have to suffice. Slowly, the woman’s eyes cleared, and she focused her baze on her captor.
“Why aren’t I dead?” she asked bluntly.
“Cause I didn’t want it,” said Len with a shrug. “I’m less interested in racking up a body count than I am in getting answers, so why don’t you tell me who hired you. We can get down to the details of what happens next after that.”
“You think I’m going to just give you that information? What’s to keep you from killing me after I do?”
“There’s nothing keeping me from doing it NOW except my whims,” Len pointed out. “But, if you must know, I won’t be killing you because I’ll be giving you a job.”
“What?!” Both Keris and the assassin blurted the question at the same time. Cammie, for her part, responded with a manic giggle.
“What? You’re obviously skilled, a professional, and might’ve even stood a chance if someone hadn’t gotten a little too full of herself back there,” Len allowed herself a smirk at the bafflement on the faces of those assembled. “I don’t see any reason NOT to make use of you. I’m thinking I’m gonna be sticking around here for a while, and you seem like the sort of person that’d be useful to have around. So, what’s your name, anyway?”
“Taylor,” the woman said rather weakly. “Taylor Marius.”
“Oh good, someone else with the same name as their job. Are you actually a tailor or is this all just a front for the hell of it.”
“In point of fact,” Taylor coughed. “This is my day job. Only reason I even took the damn contract was because that bastard threatened to expose me if I didn’t do this for him.”
“Sweet, so no actual love lost there? That should make things a bit easier. Seriously, no reason NOT to sell him out, am I right?”
“You’re not wrong,” said Taylor. “Fine. Guy’s name is Casius. A real bastard. Had me running errands for him. Last gig was to kill some merchant’s son.”
“Ah, that. That might be a problem for us. Did you do it?”
“Nah. Couldn’t bring myself to. Had a moment of weakness and scared him off. Think he was gonna run to that Orc camp or something.”
“Kinda killing your ruthless killer facade here, you know?”
“Sue me. He was cute, and the point was to get rid of him for a few weeks. Mission accomplished.”
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“Well, assuming that you’re telling the truth here, that’s excellent news for the both of you,” Len said cheerily. “Really wasn’t sure what I’d be able to do with either of you if it had turned out you’d killed my buddy Fenris. You should be especially grateful, Keris.”
The woman actually cringed at the ice Len slipped into that last sentence. Biggest concern out of the way, Len set to work tending Taylor’s wounds. There wasn’t much to do with the cut, it had been relatively shallow. The cracked ribs, though, called for some binding. Now that a basic rapport had been established, she let the assassin up and helped her by giving a tight wrap around her torso to hold the bones in place, there really wasn’t much more to be done about it at the end of the day.
“All right, the both of you,” she said breezily, “let’s find something for me to wear.”
“Seriously?” Asked Keris, dumbstruck. “After all this, THAT’S what you choose to worry about?”
“Of course. I’ve got a big night ahead of me, wouldn’t want to look anything less than my very best. “
They’d been halfway through picking out a style that managed to suit both Len’s needs for a slightly military cut with the demands of high fashion when Keseryn and her escort barged in. The two surveyed the carnage and the blank stares on the three women inside then burst into questions. Len shrugged most of it off, explaining that everything had been worked out and that. Taylor informed the guard (whose name was apparently Shane) that there was nothing to worry about with the damage to the shop and that she had no complaints to raise. Neither Kes nor Shane seemed particularly satisfied with the answers they got, but neither could they raise any objections. So it was that Kes got roped into garment shopping as well.
* * * * *
They emerged, an hour later, clad in the garments that they’d first arrived in, but each bearing a separate box that held their outfits for the night. Kes, in particular, looked like she was embarrassed about the whole affair, wanting nothing more than to be done with this experience.
Keris wore the generally mortified expression of someone whose life was rapidly spiraling out of their hands and who desperately wanted to be away from all of this. Taylor had joined them, having tried to object but quickly acceding to Len’s insistence. They made for an odd quartet marching down the street, but Len was most amused by the situation (Shane had left as soon as he’d realized that his presence wasn’t required and that four women with an interest in clothing were more than likely to make him uncomfortable if he stuck around).
They made it back to Balar’s housesled with little fanfare. When they got inside, though, they were quickly whisked away to Balar’s study where he had nothing but complaints. He began by chewing Len out for taking such risks so close to the feast, tried to pry details out of Taylor who turned out to be surprisingly resolute now that she’d decided to shift loyalties, and wondered what his wife’s role was in all of this. Through it all, they mostly stood there and listened to his ranting, Len doing her best to stifle a laugh, and ultimately failing.
“And what the hell do you think is so funny, Miss Wraithwhisper,” he asked acidly.
“Quite a lot,” she said, wiping away a tear. “Look, I’m sorry, but you’re just going to have to learn that this is how I deal with things. It’s all worked out, you don’t need to sweat the small stuff.”
“The hell I don’t!” Balar blurted. “Do you have the slightest clue how much I’ve put on the line for this? How much I stand to lose? And you’re just gallivanting about looking for trouble on the very day that I need everything to go perfectly?”
“Hey,” said Len, still chuckling. “I get it. You put all your eggs in this one basket and you’re finding out how flimsy that basket is. It’s stressful, I know. Thing is, you’re gonna have to learn to trust me. Hell, you’re willing to put your entire future in my hands, it’s probably for the best that you see what you’re getting into.”
“And what, exactly, am I getting into?” There was a dangerous edge to his voice that Len found almost cute, given the circumstances.
“You’ve put all your hopes and dreams in the hands of a dark elf who’s directly beholden to Demon Lord Astrid. I’m often unstable due to any number of poor decisions that I’ve made leading up to this moment, and I just befriended an assassin who was trying to kill me barely an hour ago,” she gestured to Taylor.
“Befriended might be a bit generous,” Taylor put in demurely. “You did make it pretty clear that you’d kill me if I didn’t join up.”
“Oh please, you’re intrigued and you know it, so shut up while I get back to helping arrange a coup of your government.”
“Yes, m’lady,” somehow Taylor managed to sound bored, insulting, and obedient all into those two words. Len had to admit that she was impressed.
“Now then. We’ve got gowns for the feast and will look spectacular, should absolutely look the part of marvelous guests for this affair. What exactly is the feast celebrating anyway?”
“That’s the thing I’ve been doing my best to pen down,” said Balar with a sigh. “As it turns out, the Head plans to officially open relations with Claymar and his forces. Open trade and open passage.”
“That’s a terrible idea,” Len blurted.
“Of course it is, there’s every reason to assume that it’s a trick to get us to drop our guard, but the Head is very excited about it. Swears that it’ll secure his reign for another hundred years at least.”
“Yeah, well we’ll see about that,” muttered Len.