Veil of Shadows

Chapter 63. Little Lys

Wraith might have pitied the guards on the outer battlements of Notch's castle if it hadn't been so ridiculously easy to get past them.

In their defense, most of them hadn't been trained to oppose skilled assassins. They kept their eyes trained on the rolling hills outside the walls, hardly focusing on anything else. It had made slipping past them so much easier, even though they were supposedly on high alert due to the rebel camp that was just beyond the ridge.

By the time anyone realized she was there, she had practically strolled into the King's throne room. She'd trained in stealth and secrecy for the greater part of her life, and the guards were finally beginning to understand that.

Wraith hadn't bothered to tell them that they'd only seen her because she'd decided it would be funny to see their faces when she walked right out into the open. Even then, they'd been too stunned to move for about five seconds straight.

No wonder King Notch was so skilled in combat. He had to be, since clearly his guards weren't going to offer much protection from outside threats.

Wraith had already sent the false coordinates of the rebel camp to King Notch's quarters. She might have delivered them personally if she hadn't wanted to meet with the Ender Lord as soon as possible. They were caught in the middle of a war now, and he was far too calm with his plans for her liking. He was hiding something.

Waiting for something.

This was why she never trusted other royals. They always ended up being scheming warmongers. And Wraith doubted that the Ender Lord would prove to be any different, considering the sheer number of kill orders he had issued within the last few months.

All of these thoughts were a whirlwind inside her mind, but not a single one affected her impassive expression as she strode down the hallways to the construction sector. Wraith knew he'd be here - every day, without fail, he walked down to check on some grand machine of his. Wraith often wondered if it was a device meant to end the world.

She wouldn't put it past him.

But what she wondered more often than that was, if it were indeed a doomsday invention, would she do anything different? Would she try to stop him? Would she keep carrying out his kill orders for him, or would she finally tell him to keep his blood money to himself and save it for something that might actually be useful?

She studied some of the parts that would be fitted together. Some of it was a material she'd never seen before in her life.

"Have you made any progress?" Wraith asked one of the ironworkers, who flipped up his visor to look at her. She didn't make an effort to be recognizable, and she kept her name and occupation mostly secret except to those who might need her services. To this man, she looked like just another soldier.

People saw what they expected to see.

"We've finished the frame," the ironworker told her, moving his arms to encompass the metal parts scattered throughout the room. "They lock together like puzzle pieces. Once they're connected, we just need the conduit activator. Should be done in a few days, but it depends on when the activator gets here."

Wraith looked over his shoulder at the two parts of the frame he was painstakingly welding together. He paused, leaning to the side a bit to offer her a better look at it. She knew it must be lonely down here, and to have a newcomer appreciate his hard work would likely make his day. She offered the man a polite nod. "Thank you. I can tell you've planned this very carefully. Could you tell me where the Ender Lord is?"

The ironworker flipped his visor back down and pointed down an adjacent hallway. "Down there a little ways. Can't miss the meeting room. He's making plans with some of his contacts about the arrival of the conduit activator. But careful on the step - a lot of people forget it's there and end up on the floor."

Wraith nodded her thanks, then turned and strode down the hallway, allowing her thoughts to drift once more. She compared the ironworker's naïve kindness to the stiff, fearful way people acted when they knew who she was. When they knew her reputation.

She'd done the same thing so many times that Wraith no longer bothered trying to suppress the idea of a life where she hadn't become an assassin - where she had instead become anything that would get rid of that constant judgment and distrust.

"Ah, Little Lys. About time you joined us."

Wraith had to force herself not to trip halfway through the doorway when she heard the Ender Lord's voice. She could hear the vicious smile in it, could hear the silent victory that he had won with only two little words. "Unfortunately we were just finishing up. Perhaps you have something you'd like to discuss afterward?"

Mask, every part of her screamed. Put the mask up!

But she couldn't. It was like she'd been disconnected from her own body. Her limbs moved in rapid, jerky movements that were so unlike the fluid, lithe motions she'd spent decades perfecting.

"Something wrong, Lysrine?" The Ender Lord purred.

Suddenly, that training snapped back into place. Eager to cover her momentary slip, she put a hand on the hilt of her knife, tilting her head just enough for them to see the swirling flame in her eyes. "The least you could do is call me by the right name. Since you have an entire kingdom's worth of names to keep track of, I'll let it slide just this once. And of course, if an interdimensional war is less of a priority than your little science project, then go ahead. I'll wait."

Scheming, lying, manipulative warmonger. Wraith decided that the title fit the Ender Lord nicely as he grinned at her like he'd seen right through her act.

~

The entire camp went dead silent when the first explosion erupted.

It was far enough away from the camp that nothing would be damaged. The cannons fired rapidly, one after the other, a constant barrage that battered the landscape just to the right of the camp. Some of the more powerful magic users had been waiting for the explosives attack, just in case it became necessary to absorb or contain the blasts.

Clearly, though, they weren't needed. The cannons fanned out in a spiral, but stopped long before they could reach the camp. The whole attack was carried out across the span of seven minutes, each passing second more tense than the last. Nobody dared to feel relieved just in case the aim would suddenly shift.

So when the explosives stopped raining down at last, and the thundering blasts ceased, Midnight said "They will send scouts to confirm the camp's destruction. Any ideas on how we can deal with them without being discovered?"

"We can finally make use of our newest member." Wolf suggested, scanning the land that had been blown to bits. "They come over here, Red goes into their minds and replaces memory of us with memories of a destroyed rebel camp, then we send them back."

Ranger glanced between them. "If you really think that's a good idea, go for it. But I don't want to be anywhere near that when it happens."