Thread Slivers

Chapter 1 Boots on the Ground

-Ticca-

Ticca moved cautiously over the roof, making sure she stayed in the chimney’s long shadow as she inched towards it. A spring squall moved in dropping the temperature from sweaty warm to steamy. The hot roof tiles steamed until water ran over them fully washing away the earlier heat. The smells of warm rain, tar, and hot wet brick filled her nose. She ignored the weather keeping a watchful eye on the traffic in the street below. Her cloak had a little magic that helped her blend into the shadows, but it didn’t make her invisible and she appreciated the dimmer daylight under the darkening rain clouds.

Stay focused, someone will try to kill me if they see me; and worse, I’ll miss Sula’s target.

It was a dangerous task to spy on those powerful people, but she wanted to garner respect as a Dagger, and Sula was her first significant client. Being only 18 years old with soft curly brown hair and only a 5’8” athletically slim build most people assumed she was younger. Between her looks, age, and lack of a solid name it had been a hard 6 cycles earning jobs in such a major port city as Llino. Ticca managed to earn a small reputation as a hunter Dagger in minor jobs before Sula, who could easily hire senior warriors, unexpectedly sat at her table. Ticca earned plenty of respect and coin from her successes in the last five jobs for Sula. Each success brought her closer to becoming a respected Dagger who could choose from the best assignments.

She arrived in position in the darkest crook of the chimney exactly as the hazy sun touched the western horizon. The rain was steady but not thick enough to reduce visibility. Moving into her vantage point, she scanned for any signs that she’d been spotted. Everything continued normally; it was business as usual for the merchants down in the Day Market. From underneath her cloak, she pulled the solid cylinder out and held it in her left hand.

Hopefully, that courier will be back.

As the darkness deepened, the ocean breeze began dropping the temperature. Ticca’s concentration narrowed, as she became the hunter, waiting, watching the traffic moving through the only known entrance to the market square. The bulk of the more upstanding merchants had already locked up their wooden stalls and carted off as much as they could past the beautiful entry statue. Fingers on their sword hilts, in their banded leather armor, the last three city guards left for more respectable parts of the city. A few late shoppers moved about the remaining merchants, who were trying to evacuate the square before the sun finished setting. The Day Market was closed; it was about to become the Night Market.

A stout, confident man walked into the market wearing a dark, charcoal gray cloak. Ticca’s heart rate picked up with excitement as she recognized him as the hired assassin — or Knife, as they were called — that Sula had her identify a few days earlier.

What are you doing here personally? What have you been up to the last few days?

As the Knife scanned the market, he then looked up at the roofs. She held her breath as his gaze passed over her. Not finding who he was looking for, he pulled his hood up over his head and moved, blending into a dark shadow by the wall.

Ticca stared intently, trying to find his outline.

Urdu, she silently cursed shaking her fist under the cloak, don’t lose him now. If he is here, then the courier isn’t coming.

She considered leaving, but her instincts were telling her to stay. She steeled herself to hold still as he would likely spot any movement she made.

If I learn what he is up to it might be worth a bonus from Sula.

She couldn’t make out if he was still where she last saw him. She considered moving to a new position to locate him. But quickly dismissed the idea in favor of holding very still.