Chapter One
Raven ascended the final rise and slowed his camel to a halt. The lone feature on the ochre sea of rolling sand was of the large rock formation—his destination.
He glanced back over his shoulder, toward the shimmering spires of Bhadestan against the horizon—largest of the Djudeni Free Cities—and considered turning back. It was the first time he’d ever felt anything close to hesitation about a potential contract. This was the first ever summons that went out to all members of the Bloody Murder, instead of the agent best equipped for the assignment.
Who was he kidding? It was for that very reason that he had answered the call. And that meant, of course, the contract would likely go to him, should he want it.
He adjusted his head covering to shield as much of the oppressive sun as possible, then kicked the restless camel back into motion, toward the sun-bleached rock formation. It would be another quarter bell or so before he reached the base of the formation. But he was used to the tricks of distance the desert played with the mind. He knew the desert better than any other terrain.
It was while circling the jagged perimeter that he first saw signs of another rider’s tracks and markings not yet claimed by the shifting sands. Even with most of the wind blocked by the rock formation, the sands would have claimed these tracks in just a few bells.
When he came to the pass, the narrow crack in the rock formation just wide enough for a single loaded camel, he brought a hand to the hilt of one of the twin daggers at his waist. It was more instinct than any real concern. The pass was all but invisible from anything beyond fifty paces away, even when one knew it was there. Besides, anyone fool enough to arrive uninvited would not have made it this far.
The high walls of the formation offered a natural protection from the sun, allowing him his first chance to get comfortable since the onset of his journey the day before. He undid the thin, tawny colored cloth he had wrapped around his head and draped over his body, folded it as neatly as he could while keeping control of the camel, and draped it across the back of the mount. During longer rides, he wore his black leather vest loose; it provided him more comfort. He then cinched the side and front straps tight, ran a hand over the rows of oiled throwing knives that ran down the front, and undid his bound hair, releasing his locs in a tumble down his back. It was as close to comfortable as he’d likely get.
The stone path branched off in several directions, but it was all a diversion. One could easily get lost for days in the branching corridors; most led to dead-ends, but some led to insidious traps that would deliver death without the unfortunate soul even knowing they’d doomed themselves.
But once the correct route was understood, it was embarrassingly simple to navigate. One only needed keep left at every split in the path. The way winded inward in concentric circles that led to a large clearing within the center of the stone formation. Raven rounded the corner and into the clearing, shielding his eyes from the glare of the exposed overhead sun.
Despite the exposed midday sky, the entire clearing was cast in pale blue from the light that shone down from massive crystal alchemical spheres that ringed the perimeter of the expanse, anchored to the very stone midway to the top of the high ridge. Thin wisps of vapor radiated from the tops of the orbs, and a thick layer of frost coated the thick brackets that cradled the bottom.
It was the blessed unnatural cooling that created the dramatic difference in terrain within the clearing. Lush grass, flowers with a dramatic array of color, and miniature trees of various species filled the expanse. It was a sight that struck awe, even for one that had made the journey many times. This oasis in the desert was, in truth, the only vegetation anywhere within the seven Sovereign Cities of Djuden.
He continued into the clearing where he discovered the source of the tracks along the outer perimeter of the rock formation. A lean camel rested on its belly atop the soft soil roughly twenty paces farther along the perimeter wall.
He dismounted with a grunt and walked his stout camel over to the other and tied reins go to the same post. The beast lumbered down to settle on its belly.
Raven gave a quick pat to the camel’s flanks in silent thanks to the beast, then turned and walked into the miniature forest, toward the center of the clearing where he would find the opening. He had been content to simply enter the roost and discover the details of the open contract, but then he heard it, the two quick taps of metal on metal, and his breath caught.
His body reacted on instinct, already changing direction and hurrying toward the sound even before he had processed what he had heard. He drew his daggers, and ever so lightly, brought the tips of the blades together in answer.
It didn’t take long to find her. He pushed through a dense patch of foliage to see Rook standing beside one of the many pools that populated the oasis. When she turned to him and they locked eyes, he froze, his mind numbed. They remained that way for a long moment, before she broke their gazes to lower her cowl.
She shook out her curtain of night black hair, releasing a cloud of fine sand, then tied it back with a knot of rope. She set her hands on her hips. “I knew you’d come, Raven.”
“I…” Raven struggled to find the words to respond. It was all too much. He felt more like an adolescent boy than the man of thirty summers. It was ever the same around her.
“Come,” she said, gesturing beside her.
Raven sheathed his weapons and made his way to the woman’s side. Spirits, how long had it been? Who was he kidding, he knew full well it had been three full summers since he’d seen her. Countless times he had thought of so much he would finally say, all that he had dared not to, if only he would have another opportunity to see her again.
Now, she stood right beside him, and he was at a total loss for words. All he could do was stare at her, noting the slight changes since the last time he saw her. Her hair was longer now and dyed back to her natural color. Her deep brown skin was darker, signifying she had spent a considerable amount of time in the field. She had filled in her blacks more than the last time he saw her, a fact he quickly moved beyond. Thankfully, there were no scars on her perfect face and no limits to the mobility or range of movement in her arms and legs. It was all the evidence he needed to know that she had managed herself well.
Even the way she now stood, confident and self-assured, she was not the same woman he had left. A touch of sadness washed over him at the loss of the woman he knew.
He pushed the thought from his mind and cleared his throat. “Well, if I’m honest, you were the last person I thought I would see here.” But the person I wanted to see the most. He wanted to say the thoughts aloud, but as ever, the words stuck in his throat. He let the moment pass and changed the subject. “So, you have come in answer to the call?”
She shook her head. “I have come for you.”
Raven blinked and looked around. It was the most direct either of them had ever been. “Mind where we are, Rook.”
She pulled off her black leather gloves and grabbed hold of his hands. He nearly pulled his hand free, but the look on her face was suddenly urgent and intense. “Raven, do not accept this call.”
“I have to.” He glanced around again, then stared back into her unwavering gaze. “I’ll have to do this for us.”
She shook her head. “Just leave with me.”
“Leave?”
She nodded, her demeanor calm and determined. “Yes. Leave. Now.” She released his hand and crossed her arms. For a fleeting moment, there was a flash of vulnerability on her face, but then it was gone.
“Where could we go that Carrion and the rest of the Bloody Murder would not follow?” Raven scratched at his thick, coarse beard that framed his face as he worked through the old problem. “We would be hunted.”
“I am not worried about the others. And you are the best killer of us all. I doubt you are concerned.”
A disturbance of leaves and brush signaled the arrival of another. They fell silent as they awaited the newcomer. It was the day for surprises it seemed, because it was Carrion himself that stepped into the clearing. His blacks were of fine cloth, loose and airy. The padded, embroidered vest gave him the refined touch Raven was used to of the old man. He wore no head or face covering, allowing his chalk white hair and neatly trimmed white beard to stand boldly against the deep black of his skin tone.
Carrion’s eyes slid from Rook to Raven, and then he smiled. It appeared a genuine gesture and eased the tension that surrounded the old man. It was incredible that the leader of the Bloody Murder never carried a single exposed weapon but was by far the most feared amongst the flock.
Carrion spoke in a hushed, grating voice that demanded close concentration to hear. “What a pleasant surprise, seeing my two best answer my call.”
“I have not come in answer to the call,” Rook said. Her tone was icy but respectful.
Carrion’s gray brows rose. “No?”
“No,” Rook said.
Carrion brought a mottled hand to his lined face and tapped the side of his cheek as he studied her. After a long moment he shrugged. “Very well. You are always welcome here in the roost. You know this. But,” he turned to level Raven with an even gaze, “the urgency of this task has sent me here with the assumption that my two best agents have answered my call. I hope I will not be completely disappointed.”
Rook took a step away from Raven and turned to him. The look on her face—on both their faces—was clear. They wanted his answer, his choice.
It was an obvious choice, but the opposite of the one he wanted. He met Rook’s eye, and something in his gaze gave her his answer. She drew herself straight, and whatever vulnerability was there in her eyes shifted back to the flat, guarded expression that cloaked their normal interactions.
Spirits below, just know that I have to, to give us a real chance. Just this one more. He wanted to shout the thoughts at her, but he revealed nothing that could be picked up by Carrion.
Raven turned to the leader of the Bloody Murder and nodded. “Yes. I have come in answer to the call.”
Carrion’s smile returned for a moment, then his expression went serious. “Follow me,” he said, then turned and walked off, toward the center of the clearing.
It took everything in Raven to force himself to step off after. Rook remained; he could feel her eyes on him. It was another two dozen or so paces before he got the nerve to glance over his shoulder. She was gone.
Even though he knew there was no choice in the matter, he couldn’t shake the feeling he’d made a terrible mistake.
Raven walked up alongside Carrion as they crossed the clearing, but the two remained silent even after they came to the entrance of the roost. It was a square opening in the ground with a narrow flight of stone steps, wide enough for them to walk abreast, that descended into darkness.
It was only after they made it to the bottom of the stairs and into a cool, spacious subterranean chamber that Raven decided to speak and break the uncomfortable silence. He cleared his throat. “Carrion, this assignment…”
Carrion raised a hand, cutting off Raven’s words. He turned to Raven, casting his deeply lined face in the eerie blue light from the fist-sized alchemic crystals that lined the floor in regular intervals, radiating both light and cool air into the spacious, low-ceilinged chamber cut from the very stone of the rock formation. “Not here.”
That only added to Raven’s unease. The details of contracts were normally discussed freely within the roost. Carrion encouraged it to breed competition amongst the cadre of assassins. Information regarding this contract was for the one that accepted it only. A first in all Raven’s time in the Bloody Murder.
The roost itself was strictly utilitarian. The main chamber that they now hurried through, a wide circular hall, took up most of the two levels of the place. Branching off at regular intervals along the perimeter of the chamber were narrow winding corridors that led to small, utilitarian rooms equipped with nothing but naked single layer sleeping mats. The chamber itself was empty with only a massive iron table at the very center. One half of the table was always adorned with an assortment of fruits, frozen meat, fresh bread, and chilled water, each laid out for arriving members by Carrion’s own hand each time he issued a call. The other side of the table was kept clear; it was where the only two chairs in the hall rested, ready to discuss and bind the contracts for assignments.
They hurried past the table and headed toward the far end of the hall, where to the left was a single stairwell that descended into the lower level, and to the right rested a set of weathered wooden double doors that led to Carrion’s private chamber. Carrion went for the doors.
Raven swept in a step behind Carrion and paused when he saw Coragyps seated on one of the hard wooden chairs on the left side of the room.
“Come in, quickly now, and shut the door behind you,” Carrion said, glancing back at Raven over his shoulder.
Never in all his time as an agent of the Bloody Murder, had Raven seen Coragyps anywhere but her alchemical lab. The woman lived and breathed the discipline, ever refining her ingenious breakthroughs. For her to be here now added yet another layer of mystery.
The interior of Carrion’s chamber was cast in a warm purple light from the combined radiance of a pair of red and blue glowing alchemical orbs mounted side by side on all four sides of the room. The orbs radiated cold and hot air that matched their color. In this light, Coragyps was even more unnerving than normal. Her bone white skin and hair took on the purple hue of the ambient light. And her normally pale red eyes seemed to glow with fierce red luminance.
It took effort for Raven to tear his eyes from the high alchemist. After closing and bolting the door, he crossed to the left side of the spacious chamber and took a seat opposite Coragyps, with Carrion in the center between them.
It was the first time Raven had been in the chamber. He glanced around, taking in the room. Unlike the other spaces within the roost, here Carrion enjoyed modest comfort. A small, feathered bed rested at the far side of the wall. Along the opposite wall from them was a bookshelf carved directly into the stone of the wall.
“I must admit, Raven,” Carrion said, looking to Raven, “I am glad you too gave answer to the call.”
“Too? You mean I wasn’t the first?”
“Oh, no. Both Vulture and Lappet answered.”
“Lappet,” Raven repeated, hoping he hid the disdain from his voice.
“Yes. He was the first. But,” he shook his head, “this assignment requires a more delicate hand. Speaking of which, I’m sure the two of you are wondering what exactly this all is about.”
Coragyps inclined her head. “Very much so, yes.”
Raven crossed his arms, waiting.
Carrion grinned. “A contract, of course. But unlike any we have been offered before.”
Coragyps’ white brows rose. “Oh?”
Raven frowned. “Dangerous then.”
Carrion’s grin fell away. “More dangerous than anything we’ve taken on. Enough to make me hesitate to accept. Indeed, I hesitate even now to offer it.”
Raven’s frown deepened. “I would assume, if you were hoping I would answer this contract, it would involve the assassination of a powerful sorcerer.” He paused, trying to gauge the old man. “Do you believe this power above my capability to deal with?”
“I have the utmost confidence in your considerable abilities, Raven. You are quite talented in your arts. Do I believe you will succeed? Yes, of course.” He raised a finger. “However, does that confidence in your success cast no shadow of doubt? Is it so absolute that I would wager the entirety of my Bloody Murder on your success? Would I wager all seven of the Sovereign Cities on it? Because should you fail, that is precisely what would be at risk.”
Seven suns…
The look on Coragyps’ face was every bit the mask of concern. She tried to hide it, but the worry was evident. It was on these rare occasions that the woman’s youth shone through the illusion of age brought on by her white hair.
“You will need to promise me, Raven, that you will succeed.”
Raven blew out a breath. “You haven’t even told me what the contract is yet.”
“Even still. You must succeed. Failure is not an option.”
Raven drew in a deep breath. “Failure is never an option.”
Carrion nodded. “Indeed, my Raven. Indeed.”
“Enough preamble. Tell me who I am to kill and where I must go.”
“The ‘who’ you must kill, I am afraid I know not.”
This earned a sharp glare from Coragyps.
“Uh… what?” Raven asked, confused. “On the most important mission, you don’t know who I am to kill?”
“Afraid not. You will rendezvous with a contact who will give you all the intel you need.”
Raven hesitated. “Ok.”
“As to the question of where, well, that is the very source of the danger.” He paused a moment, then sighed. “You will meet your contact in the easternmost province in the nation of Sai’ja, little more than a day’s walk from our western border.”
“Sai’ja? I am to infiltrate the old empire? What of their Avatar, who is said to be more God than ruler? The Bloody Murder would challenge a true ascendant?” Raven asked, unable to mask his utter shock.
“Of course not. I would never put a member of my Murder in a situation where victory was impossible. The target will be a sorcerer, yes. No doubt one with a powerful affinity. But this target will not be their so-called Avatar.”
“And what if that is their target? The Bloody Murder has earned a reputation for killing countless people, creatures, and entities of various levels of power. What am I to do if this contact presents me with the Avatar as my target?”
Carrion shrugged. “You are to break contract and immediately return to the roost. We will not challenge a sorcerer with an affinity high enough to ascend to Aspect.”
“From what I understand of that Avatar’s decree, to merely enter Sai’ja is to challenge the Avatar,” Raven said.
“Which is why you must not let anyone see you. Anyone. Well, aside from your contact.”
Raven nodded. “Very well.”
Carrion withdrew a parchment, rolled and sealed with his mark, hesitated, then handed it to Raven.
Raven took the parchment and opened it without hesitation. It was a detailed map. It took a moment to realize the strange layout and features were that of Sai’ja. He scanned it over a few times and then went to roll it back up and place it into a fold in his shirt.
Carrion raised a hand, freezing him in place. “That parchment must not leave this lair. You will have until you leave here in four bell’s time to commit it to memory; I shall destroy it immediately after.”
Coragyps cleared her throat. “So, what does this have to do with me?”
“You will bring Raven down into your lab and outfit him with whatever he needs.”
Raven and Coragyps raised their brows. The alchemist produced the highest of quality brews, but it was a painstaking process. She never had a large assortment ready to choose from. She cleared her throat. “Carrion, our supply…”
Carrion waved the objection away. “Our supply cache will not matter if we fail this contract. Raven is to have any and all alchemical brews and munitions he needs.” He stood, clearly signaling the end of the discussion. “Any questions Raven?”
Raven shook his head.
“Excellent. I would suggest you find a moment to rest up, then go below to Coragyps’ lab to receive your supply. Be ready to ride within four bells.”
