“The Emperor?” Vexxer said for the third time in half an hour, his voice faint with disbelief. He hadn’t said it loudly, only whispered it, like the title itself held too much reverence to be spoken by someone such as he.
They were in Maddy’s apartment above the clock shop. The only window to the room was boarded shut and then draped over with black cloth. Gaslights hung in the walls, illuminating the room in a subterranean orange. A simple cot sat in one corner, with a washbasin and a toilet nearby. Three workbenches had been erected in the apartment, all of them covered with an assortment of firearms in various states of repair and construction. Locked wire-mesh cabinets of rifles and pistols lined the walls, giving the already small room an even more cramped feeling. A reloading bench—surrounded by brass and reeking of lead and gunpowder—stood next to an iron door that was clearly installed after Maddy had moved in. Therazine guessed that the room beyond the iron door had once been a bedroom, or a dedicated bathroom, but judging by the goggles and earmuffs hanging on a hook next to the door it had become a soundproofed indoor firing range. Bullet casings and springs and small screws covered the floor, collecting in unintentional piles around the reloading bench and curiously by the cot. The place looked very much like Therazine had been expecting from a woman like Maddy.
Therazine had gone over everything that she had been told about her job, leaving out the name of Alyxandir Arkide and how he had come to her in the desert hills of Lormian. All in all, there wasn’t a whole lot to tell.
Madeline Rhines leaned against her reloading bench, the fingers of one hand rapping against its steel surface. With the other she held a small silver tally counter. Her thumb rested atop the button on the tally counter, as if she were ready to press it at a moment’s notice. She hadn’t said much during Therazine’s explanation of the job. Her gaze had been shiftng across the room the whole time, a sign that Therazine recognized meant Maddy was planning and scheming. Vexxer sat on a stool next to the boarded window, alternately rubbing his head and chin as the minutes passed.
“I don’t understand,” Vexxer said. “Who would hire you for this? Who would want this done?”
“A lot of people,” Therazine said. “The Emperor has many enemies.”
“That’s not what I—What I mean is, who would actually hire anyone to do this? This is… I’ve never heard of a job this big. Obviously, I mean, but the scope of this is so large. I’m just trying to picture all of the money and planning that would have to go into this, and I physically can’t. It’s mindboggling. Where would you even start? Where would you go? Who do you turn to?”
“That’s pretty much where I’m at,” Therazine said. “All I know is that I will need some very specialized equipment for this, even if I’m not sure what I’ll need exactly.” She looked across the room. “That’s why I’ve come to you, Maddy.”
Maddy continued to rap on the table, eyes scanning the dark corners of the room. She didn’t say anything, but Therazine knew that Maddy was mulling it over. The job obviously interested her—Maddy’s hatred of the Commonwealth was widely known. The idea of cutting off its head must be appealling. Maddy pressed the button on the tally counter twice.
“Is it even possible?” Vexxer said.
Therazine returned her attention to him. “Killing the Emperor?”
“Yeah,” Vexxer said. “Celedin government and religion aren’t taught too heavily on Javadoa, but I at least know that the Emperor is said to be immortal. He was alive during the Culling. Fought against my people long before I was born. How do you kill a man who has been alive for generations?”
“I doubt very much he’s immortal,” Therazine said. “There’s no one alive who can’t die to a bullet.”
“That’s what they say, though.” Vexxer shook his head. “And they wouldn’t say it without good reason.”
“There’s little that the Order tells us that I actually believe. It’s all a show to keep us in line.”
“Sure, alright,” Vexxer said. “But then how do you account for the stories of my people? We’re not strict adherents.”
Therazine sighed. “I don’t know anything right now, Vexxer. That’s the problem. I can’t prepare for something I know nothing about.”
“Did your employer give you a time limit on this job?” Vexxer asked.
Therazine shook her head. Now that she thought about it, Alyxandir Arkide hadn’t presented the job to her with any urgency. Likely he knew how long an operation like this would take to come to fruition. It was very likely that whatever grand machinations Arkide was planning for were years off. It bothered her how little she knew about this hit.
As if reading her mind, Vexxer said, “So they just threw this at you, with no information or resources, and expect you to do it?”
“It’s upsetting to me, too,” Therazine said. Maddy clicked the tally counter, and Therazine glanced over at her. Maddy’s eyes and thoughts were still on the ceiling above.
Vexxer shook his head and chuckled. “Have you considered that this may be a joke? Somebody might be pulling a fast one over the ex-Archblade Therazine?”
“My employer found me in my home,” Therazine said. “Something even the Bloodletters had been unable to do. This person would have gone to an awful lot of trouble for a stupid prank.”
Vexxer straightened at that. “Well… Well, okay, then. So, we’re working on the assumption that this job is real—”
“It is,” Therazine said. She did not like Vexxer questioning her. He never used to do it, back when they worked together. But now his opinion of her was shaken, distorted. Like he didn’t find her as capable as she once was.
“Okay then,” he said. “It’s a real job. Someone has actually contracted you to assassinate the Holy Emperor of the Commonwealth of the Real. Now what?”
Therazine looked away from him, choosing instead to focus on a rifle with a harmonica clip that sat near a pile of junk metal. “I’m not sure.”
Maddy clicked her tally counter again. Therazine bit her teeth. Maddy had always had this habit. Whenever she would get stressed or when she was processing something, Madeline Rhines would take out her silver tally counter and start tallying. She carried it with her everywhere she went. Most assumed that it was a nervous tick, something to keep her fingers occupied while her mind worked. But Therazine had seen the behavior enough to realize that Maddy was always consciously counting something. What, Therazine did not know.
She settled her eyes on Maddy’s face. The gunsmith was going over this situation again and again, trying to come to some conclusion. When Therazine had first mentioned the job, Maddy had rejected it out of hand, insulting Therazine and demanding that she leave. But ever since Therazine had mentioned who the contract was on, Maddy had gone into her silent contemplation. Maddy hated Therazine, most certainly. After all, Therazine was the woman who had taken her left eye. But Madeline Rhines hated the Commonwealth, as well, for they took away her father. Therazine now just had to wait until Maddy decided who she hated more.
“You’ve never gone after a target as big as this,” Vexxer said.
“No one has,” Therazine said. “Well, Maddy? What’s it going to be?”
Maddy clicked once more, and then brought her eyes to Therazine’s. “Why should I help you?” she said. “What’s in it for me?”
Therazine held back a smile. That response was tantamount to an agreement from Madeline Rhines. If the gunsmith wasn’t interested, she would have dismissed Therazine entirely. But instead she was asking questions. She wanted to be convinced to join Therazine.
“You’re not a clockmaker,” Therazine said. “You were not destined for this little shop on Ivy Street. You want to make an impact on history, to change the course of the future. I am giving you the opportunity to craft the weapon that slays the Holy Emperor and brings this government crashing to its knees.”
Maddy looked like she was going to press the clicker again, but instead she bit her lower lip. “No mention of money in your offer.”
“Glit doesn’t matter to you,” Therazine said. “It never has.”
Maddy grinned in a placated, unhappy way that was as close to a yes as Therazine was going to get.
“Now, wait a moment,” Vexxer said. He stood up from the stool by the window. “Let’s focus on what you just said, Thera. What if you do succeed at this, and you do bring the government crashing down. Is that good? Is that what we want?”
“Like any of you Bloodletters have ever cared about the politcal ramifications of your murders,” Maddy said.
“This is different,” Vexxer said. “This isn’t some corrupt governor in backwater Kalasta. This is the Emperor of the Real. We wouldn’t just be making waves by killing him, we’d be boiling the ocean.”
“That is so far off, Vexxer,” Therazine said. “We don’t even know if this man is real—It’s a little premature to feel the Quandary.”
Therazine felt a pang of nostalgia and shame at her own usage of that term. It had been years since she had even considered the subject of morality in killing. “The Quandary” was a term amongst the members of the Bloodletter Society to denote the state of moral apprehension one feels before they pull the trigger. Every assassin feels it at one point or another in their career, when they first realize they are about to take the life of an innocent person in exchange for a couple handfuls of glit. Some assassins were plagued with returning visits of the Quandary throughout their careers. Vexxer was one such individual. On multiple occasions Therazine had had to wait for her partner to overcome his moral affliction before they could continue a hunt. The Quandary was the bane of the Bloodletters Society, an invisible phantasm that preyed on every would-be killer. Therazine, to her knowledge, was the only exception. During her entire career as an assassin, Therazine had never felt conflict with her assignments. She knew her work wasn’t righteous, of course, but she never felt it was evil. Her thoughts had changed over the last ten years of her life, though, and now she abhorred the murderer that she once was. Just a few days ago she was concerned that she had grown too soft, that she was no longer capable of killing another human being for money. And now what was she doing? Mocking Vexxer for expressing similar ethical concerns?
“I’m not feeling the Quandary, Thera,” Vexxer said, an edge to his voice. “This is much larger than a personal moral dilemma. This effects everyone in the Real.”
“Fuck them,” Maddy said.
“It’s far too earlier to be thinking that big,” Therazine said. “This is just a job, right now. We have a lot of other problems ahead of us before we ask ourselves if it’s the right thing to do.”
“This has to be discussed, Thera.”
“But not right now, it doesn’t.” Therazine felt a slight heat behind her eyes. Vexxer was talking to her like she wouldn’t even consider the implications of tackling something like this, like she was just going to blindly kill whoever she was paid to. She’d changed in the last decade. Couldn’t he see that?
“Promise me we will, before we move too far,” Vexxer said.
Therazine bit her lip and looked away from him. Vexxer had changed over the years. She could see that. It irritated her that he couldn’t see that she had, as well.
“Yes,” she said. “We will.” She took a big breath. “Does this mean you’re on board, Vexxer?”
Vexxer put both hands behind his head and chewed on his cheek for a moment, his red beard shifting up and down. “Ahh… It’s… I…”
Therazine frowned at his hesitation. Ever since she had arrived in Celedin, Vexxer Roz had taken every opportunity to support and help her. Trimming up his face, rearranging his room back at his flat, finding her out at the hanging tree… He’d immediately agreed to help her when she wouldn’t tell him what her job was out in the rain on the bluff above the fisheries, and yet now he was reconsidering.
“What?” she said. “What’s the matter?”
Vexxer just shook his head and began stroking his beard. “It’s just… It’s a big job, Thera. It’s really big.”
“The biggest there could be,” Maddy cut in.
Vexxer nodded. “It seems so strange that your contact would go to you for this, and not the Bloodletters.”
Therazine was taken aback. “What does that mean?”
Vexxer threw up his hands. “No, not like—You’re the best, Thera. Everyone knows it. But what I mean is, how would your employer know to go straight to you, and not try to find you through the Bloodletters? More than likely, this person who hired you found out where you were through talking to the Society. What if they know about this job? Do you think they’ll be keen on you taking such a big hit from them?”
“How would they find out about it?” Therazine asked.
“Are you fucking kidding?” Maddy said, clicking her tally counter and nodding at Vexxer. “He still works for them.”
Vexxer shook his head. “I wou—“
“He wouldn’t tell them,” Therazine interrupted.
Maddy made a short laugh. “Well, then.”
“He wouldn’t do that,” Therazine said. “Not ever. Not to me.” She glanced over at Vexxer. His eyes widened slightly, and he looked as if he was about to smile. But he held it in.
Maddy shook her head, and then clicked again. “Let’s assume that. Even if he doesn’t tell them, he still works for the Society—and you want him to help you out with this? This isn’t exactly going to be a part time job. They might be curious how he’s spending all his time if he’s not killing for them. What are you going to do, Javadoan? Cash in some of your vacation time?”
“I’ll be able to handle it,” Vexxer said. “I’m not a journeyman anymore, so I choose my own jobs. Don’t concern yourselves with this.”
“So,” Therazine said. “Do I have you?”
Vexxer breathed in deep. “Aye. Yes. You do. It’ll certainly be an interesting challenge.”
Therazine felt a wave of relief at Vexxer’s words. “Good.”
“Oh happy day,” Maddy said. “Now that the three of us are officially conspiring against our government, what is the next step?”
“The first step,” Therazine said, “is finding out where in the Aether the Emperor even is.”
“Won’t exactly be in the constabulary’s records,” Vexxer said.
“Surely you people have contacts within the government?” Maddy said. “Spies, or whatever? Somebody who tells you which way to point your dicks when you need to fuck up a life.”
Vexxer ground his teeth, and then cocked his head. “There are resources within the Society. People I could go to, but—”
“But we want to avoid the involvement of the Bloodletters as much as we can,” Therazine said.
Maddy shook her head. “I can’t imagine what they must have done to make you this afraid of them.”
Therazine frowned, briefly weighing whether or not to dignify that comment with a response. Then she looked back at Vexxer.
“The Society will know if we try to use their records or contacts clandestinely. We should avoid them at all costs.”
Vexxer nodded. He sat in silence and rubbed his furry chin. Therazine breathed in deep, and let it all out in a slow sigh.
“So… What do we do, then?” Maddy asked.
Therazine walked to the window. She touched the black clothe hanging over it, fingering its edges and wordlessly allowing Maddy a moment to prevent her from peeling the curtain back. When no objection came, Therazine let hazy light into the room.
Ivy Street was still buzzing with activity. Hunched people in dark jackets milled about on the cobblestone below, and orange neon lights cast spectral auras across the storefronts and market booths. Dark liquid pooled in the gutters and the depressions in the street, despite the vaulted ceiling above preventing rain from ever reaching the street itself. People avoided those dark, caustic pools, almost as pointedly as they avoided the shivering human beings that huddled in the corners of alleyways and abandoned buildings dressed in rags and cardboard. Candle and electric light slithered out of the cracks between curtains and blinds in the other apartments along Ivy Street. Only a story above the windows were completely dark, where the stagnant cloud of the Ghost hung over all the brooding travelers.
“So much is the same,” Therazine said. “I expected it to be different, but it’s all the same.”
“Just here,” Vexxer said. “Out in East Celedin its a whole different world.”
“Where they have the money to fix this kind of shit,” Maddy said. “You say it looks all the same, Husk, but look closer. There’s more people in the gutters, aren’t there? More starving, more cold. All the trash from the Eastside, pushed out our way because they can’t the affluent don’t want them ruining their harbor views.”
“I’ve seen the Constabulary relocating the homeless,” Vexxer added. “While investigating leads out in East Celedin. They round them up, bring them here.”
“The wireheads and winos,” Maddy said. “Just dump them here and let this place continue to rot. It’s not the same that it once was, Husk. It’s decayed.”
Therazine stared out into the dim night. Sure enough she saw more bundles of blankets and refuse in the dark places of Ivy Street. Their locations dictated the flow of foot traffic, forcing the crowds around them to move in a snakelike pattern to avoid acknowledging their existence. She thought of her childhood, of being a homeless urchin in these streets. Stealing food and dodging the Constabulary. She recalled it with almost a fondness, those youthful days of danger, but she knew vividly how cold the nights got and the pain of a child’s stomach that hasn’t tasted food in three days. The things she’d learned in those years had proven invaluable during her time as Archblade for the Bloodletters Society. Information passed freely along Ivy Street, for it was a dark place where the law had few eyes or ears. Being invisible in this neighborhood had afforded her knowledge which she never would have possessed otherwise.
“Maybe that’s where we begin,” she said. “Speaking with those who civilization has cast aside, but who know this city better than anyone.”
Maddy scoffed. “You want to interrogate the vagabonds, now?”
“No,” Therazine said. “But I’ll bet you someone who’s been displaced has few qualms about spilling the secrets of those who displaced them.”
“I’m not sure I’d trust a lead from a wirehead, Thera.”
“I’d be hesitant,” Therazine responded. She looked below and watched a man in rags extend a chipped mug to a passerby, only to have that dark liquid kicked in his face. “But I’d trust them over any of the other pieces of shit in this city.”
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