"Keep moving," Kelsie whispered. She sensed those who meant harm following them, but her timer said they needed to get the second opening done to get the information out to the world. "We need to divert them."

"They are coming fast," Jason whispered, "here ... break some branches, scuff those leaves."

Quickly the three made a false trail before moving on. Jason found a tree branch and drew it carefully behind them, covering their tracks for some time before he was happy they could not be found.

"Pick up the pace," he called to Kelsie, "we need to be gone."

Kelsie nodded, moving faster down the path, taking the trio to the second point for the opening ritual. There was no time for further distractions or delays. Suddenly Kelsie stopped and looked up; she signalled they were being followed through the trees.

"Damn," Zander hissed, "run."

The trio sprinted down the path; Kelsie felt the pressure of making the correct decisions for their direction but trusted her instinct. The trail wound dangerously; turning a corner, they saw the clearing was up ahead, and Kelsie picked up speed, breaking into the clearing as the first of their trackers fell to the ground. Glancing over her shoulder, she took in the old-style leather garb with the cape adorned with long flowing sleeves and hood hanging low over the face, dipping in the middle so the Assassin could see but the face remained unseen by anyone else. Kelsie had very little time to register the information before suddenly evading flying fists and skimming legs. Drawing her knife, she deflected the metal extending from his hand. It looked like it was part of him; there was something familiar about the fighting style. Connie had insisted she learn it and become as close to a master as possible. Kelsie had tried but always found herself short of Connie's approval.

Zander and Jason broke into the clearing as two others landed on either side, not engaging. They stood watching them as though they would prevent any interference.

"Kelsie," Zander yelled as she stumbled back from a vicious frontal attack. Her jagged sleeve drifted down her arm, leaving material from the elbow to shoulder. Her lower arm was unnaturally white where there should have been an emblem. The attacker stopped, stepped back and waited.

"What is this?" Kelsie asked, looking around the clearing.

"You initiation," a voice called from the edge of the clearing, "the second ritual ... so I'm told."

"I ... don't understand," Keslie frowned, shaking her head, "am I to die here then?"

"If you were, you would be dead," the voice said, "we are of the shadow, and we protect that which belongs to the true Order."

The draped figure in front of her produced old-style swords, dropping one to the ground before her. Turning, he walked a few feet away and faced her. She watched as he pulled the blade from the sheath, tossed it aside and waited. Slowly Kelsie crouched to retrieve the sword, her eyes constantly watching her opponent. Drawing the sword, she moved in a circle finding even ground before sinking into a fighting stance. Raising the sword first to her left shoulder and then her right before holding it in front. The man mimicked her movements before coming straight at her; the silent attack was eery and unnatural. It should have been unnerving, but Kelsie found it familiar and inviting. Something she would never have expected.

"Jason," Zander said, "she's going to die. I cannot allow that."

"If this is what I suspect, we cannot interfere," Jason said, grasping Zander's shoulder. "You may be her guard, but interfering now will lose her everything she needs to gain."

The draped figure near them stepped forward, pulling up a long tan sleeve showing the ancient emblem of the guard, gaining Zander's attention, and Jason muttered an oath. Zander pulled his sleeve up, showing the same symbol on his arm.

"This is a test," the hushed mellow voice said, "not a fight to the death. Be at ease."

Zander nodded, swallowing hard as he watched Kelsie deflect the first blow.

"Whatever happens, Zander," Jason whispered, "you need to keep very quiet."

Zander nodded, his heart pounding as he watched Kelsie circle her opponent.

Kelsie deflected the first few blows learning the balance of the sword. It was heavy yet easy to move; she could feel the blade's balance while holding the handle, the ancient engravings told of their heritage. These were ceremonial swords, sharp enough to slice but not stab. Connie had spoken of such fights to prove honour, stealth, resilience and bravery.

Kelsie wondered what would be tested today, one or all of them, she would never know. Breathing in, she watched as her opponent's stance shifted, and the sword swung in an arc, coming down directly at her. It had begun.

Deflecting to the side, Kelsie dove out of the way, rolling to her feet; without hesitation, she moved forward in an attack, driving her assailant back. He never gave up; evading one of her swings, he spun to the side, twisting his sword and extending it. It should have sliced her side open but only nicked her exposed arm before meeting Kelsie's blade. The trickle of blood began running down her arm, but they continued to fight.

Connie had allowed one of her lessons to continue for three hours, Kelsie had been spent, but the lesson continued; at the time, Kelsie had thought it cruel. Now she understood the reason. This could take a while.

"How long is this going to take?" Zander asked, "they have been going about an hour."

"These tests will be concluded when the brethren are satisfied with what they see," Jason said, "Kelsie needs to prove herself."

"She is exhausted, and they expect her to fight," Zander shook his head. Sucking in his breath as Kelsie narrowly escaped the blade replying by scooping her opponent's feet from under him. Zander groaned as the man flicked up from the ground, effortlessly, gracefully, "I don't know if I can watch this."

"You must," the draped man said, "to testify she is who she is. If her guard doesn't know, how can we follow her if she is the one."

Stolen novel; please report.

Zander gaped at the man understanding everything he was seeing, "Where is Jezebel's house?"

"It shall be revealed." the hushed voice said, "watch, learn, love and honour."

Zander nodded as the old phrase struck a memory tucking it away as he sucked in his breath, seeing the blade slice the back of Kelsie's leg. He watched as fury flared in her eyes. She began her assault in earnest, with a neat, efficient style making her opponent work to defend himself. Behind him, Zander heard Jason mutter another oath.

"What?" Zander asked, not taking his eyes from Kelsie.

"She fights much as Connie would, but I don't think she is following her training," Jason gasped, watching Kelsie leap into the air above and over the swinging blade. She flipped over, landing in a crouch, knocking the sword from her opponent's hands before quickly moving out of his way and rolling to her feet.

"Damn," Zander whispered, "she is good. Can you imagine what she would do with a blade or a gun?"

"Do I want to see," Jason murmured, "will he surrender now?"

"It doesn't look like it," Zander shifted uneasily; he didn't feel comfortable sitting at the sidelines while Kelsie fought unprotected.

Kelsie rolled to her feet, waiting, would her opponent surrender? Her arm was stinging, her calf felt damp, and she was tiring. The sun had moved. She had been fighting for more than two hours.

Could she do more?

How long did a test last for something like this?

A movement from the edge of the field drew her attention, but the rising hairs on her arms and neck told of incoming danger. Glancing to the side, she noted her opponent running at her swinging his sword in figure eight. Standing her ground, she looked at options. There was no way she could deflect it nor evade it without serious injury. Glancing in Zander's direction, she smiled. Suddenly, she ran directly at her opponent, skidding under his feet. The descending blade tip narrowly missed her nose's arch before moving on, leaving her unscathed. Skidding to a halt, she spun, coming up on one knee and pushing off the ground as he turned to face her. The thud of her knee hitting his chest, taking them both to the ground, meeting the startled eyes under the hood, she held her knife to his neck.

"Surrender and comply now," she hissed, "or die."

Slowly he raised his hands to shoulder height, "I comply."

Blinking, she knew that voice, "Where do I know you from?"

He remained still and silent. Movement from the edge of the clearing snapped her head to the side, expecting danger. Instead, she noticed at least twenty draped figures stepping out of the shadows.

"It is done," rang out across the hearing, "it is sunset, and we eat."

"You can get off me," her opponent said, drawing her attention, "you fared well."

Zander ran forward, pale and panting, "Kelsie, are you alright?"

She rose, panting, sweaty and exhausted, pushing her blade into the sheath, "Sure."

"Let's get you cleaned up and patched up," Zander murmured.

"In a moment," she said, reaching a hand down to help her opponent from the ground. The hand that grasped hers was not young, yet it had more strength than some she had clasped in her years. The leather wrist bands caught her eyes, "Where did you get that?"

"You are a worthy opponent," the opponent said before retrieving the swords and moving off.

"I ask questions and get no answers," she muttered, "so frustrating."

"Looks like you have a tent to sleep in tonight," Zander murmured, "they are putting up a few. Perhaps we all get to rest under cover tonight."

"Kelsie," the voice called her, "please follow me."

"Where is my backpack?" Kelsie asked.

Jason reached them, holding it out, "Good fight."

Kelsie nodded, "I'll see you shortly."

Following the draped figure toward the tent, Kelsie cleaned the dried blood from her arm; glancing up as the flap was moved aside, she stepped inside, slowly stopping in the middle of a large tent. It reminded her of the sleeping quarters at school. Fear threaded through her, but she refused to allow it to show.

"What is this?" she asked, pulling herself to her full height, "where are Zander and Jason?"

"This is a place you can clean up and change without any interruption," the man said, "Jason and Zander have been escorted to another tent to do the same. You have traveled far in a short time."

"Thank you," she smiled, "I appreciate this moment, but I'm not sure I understand why this is happening?"

"Only those worthy may rule," the man said quietly before bowing his head slightly. She was left alone. Finding a ceramic jug and basin, Kelsie poured some water out, washing her face, hands and arms.

"It's like being back at school," she muttered, opening her backpack and rummaging through her clothes. "Only short-sleeved shirts left," sighing, she pulled one out, laying it on a stretcher beside clean pants.

Changing, she rolled up her soiled clothing, pushing them to the bottom of the backpack. Slinging it on her shoulder, she exited the tent, moving toward a large fire where figures were assembling. A whisper followed her as she moved through the suddenly large crowd of people. Frowning, she stopped, turning in a circle as it grew louder.

"It's on her arm," looking down, Kelsie frowned at the mark of the Ancient House of Assassins.

The whisper changed, "How did it get there?"

"Kelsie," Jason called, grinning, "nice to be clean ..."

Kelsie met his gaze, his words fading as his eyes fell to the emblem on her arm, returning to meeting her gaze, then looking around, "When did you have that done?"

"What done?" Kelsie whispered.

"The tattoo?" Jason asked, his eyes taking in the growing unease.

"I didn't," Kelsie said, "It arrived. I'll go back to the tent."

"You cannot," Jason said, grabbing her arm.

The tension in the suddenly still and silent group made him gently release her, "You need to join a fire," he glanced around, "if you do not, it would be taken as an insult."

Kelsie looked around, feeling dozens of eyes on her. Nodding, she turned, taking the path appearing before her and heading for the fire.

Unease edged through her as she slowly sat on a large tree trunk around the fire and accepted a drink. Watching the draped figures as she sipped, she sensed a collective sigh, and slowly everything returned to what it was before she appeared.

"You sure know how to make an entrance," Zander said, sitting next to her, "when did that appear?"

"After the fight," Kelsie whispered, " exactly where the blade nicked my arm."

"You know you cannot tattoo that on," Zander whispered, "no one knows how to do something this intricate."

"How do you get it?" Kelsie asked, looking around.

"You earn it, and only those of the true bloodline will acquire it," Zander said.

"Great. More freaky stuff," Kelsie sighed, "I'm so hungry and tired. I could close my eyes right now and be asleep before my lashes hit my face."

"We still have time," Zander said, "something tells me we will be well guarded tonight."

Nodding, Kelsie accepted a plate of food and noticed everyone silent and waiting, "Um ..."

"Take a small mouthful and invite all to eat," Zander whispered, "they await your invitation to join the meal."

Kelsie followed Zander's instructions, and the group broke out in a happy babble of talk. Kelsie watched Zander interact with the draped people. What would she do without him? He didn't know that her intention was to be either close to or at Jezebel's house come morning. Time was nearly up, and she could not allow the alienation of innocent lives. Looking down at the emblem on her arm, she traced it with her finger, "Duty, watch, learn, love and honour," she murmured, smiling as she began to hum.

Tomorrow would bring an end to all of this. Tomorrow would bring balance.

Yawning, Kelsie leaned against Zanders's shoulders, and she closed her eyes, contentedly dropping off to sleep.