Say a Prayer

There was a beautiful festival full of temporary shopping stalls, possibly rigged games with promises of prizes, wandering musicians, temple prayers, and a tall tree with seemingly thousands of drooping branches. Ice coated the bare, wretched looking bark, but that didn't matter. People slipped their fingers out of their gloves and muffs so they could use thin strings to tie slips of paper to the branches. Delma had been told it was a way to make a wish. At the end of the festival, the Temple Children would collect all the papers and burn them in a large metal bowl, claiming that the gods would be more likely to read them that way ... somehow.

Miss Bord followed Delma around the festival. She really wasn't a pleasurable companion. Delma didn't think she ever saw her smile, not that Delma was in a happy mood either. Her interaction with Kuno had been minimal. She spent most of her hours inside her bedroom. It was as if Kuno was terrified of her running away. When he did visit her, he mostly chatted about things that didn't have any true importance. Delma was already feeling lonely and concerned.

She played many games. She ate delicious and easily held food. She danced to music. She used several outdoor braziers to warm her face. None of that did much. She was still worried about her fate and ... well ... about Kuno.

Desperate curiosity had her waking under the massive tree, and she realized something.

It seemed as though ... perhaps ninety or ninety-five percent of the papers on the branches had a similar theme.

"Escape."

"Freedom."

"Different Life."

"New Occupation."

"Another role."

Wow. Really? Honestly? What in the world?

Delma expected wishes such as true love, beauty, youth, good health, or something else that would be more normal. Were so many people in this city feeling trapped? Why? How horrible!

She sighed. Then she idly looked around.

Among the many people tying their wishes to the tree, there was a tall man with long black hair carefully looking at each strip of paper he came close to, one by one. And whenever he saw someone giving their wish, he seemed to discreetly look over their shoulders to read their papers, which was incredibly rude.

Delma frowned and whispered to Miss Bord, "Such an invasive man that is." Then she realized that Miss Bord was tying a paper to a tree branch. Despite the hypocrisy of the action, Delma glanced at the paper. The characters written on it read, "Out."

***

Some time before Threne had left Castle Adurant for Tuwill, while he was still Kovak, he met the trespasser/assassin just outside of the Adurant's hunting grounds. He gave the masked man an obscene amount of gold in a large bag. Threne never had a lack of money. He was far too good at gambling. Then Threne listened as the masked man told him a little secret.

"If you ever need another contract, then go to Tuwill, to the oldest building in the whole city. If you've gained a liking for me, you can ask for the name 'Ku,' but you could always let someone else pick the right one for the contract."

Threne had known around ninety percent of all that secret information. What he didn't know at the time was the name Ku.

But his brain was clicking and boiling as he sat in an inn's room, looking over a thick book that contained lists and lists of handwritten short words ... or rather, names, and all with numbers beside them. One Ai, Two Lu, Three Ro, Four Fed, Five Ku, etcetera. There was a thicker, much more intensely filled in book. They had what seemed to be more short names, often repeated and with tiny numbers above them, and written beside full names of people. Threne assumed the full names were victims of murders. The names that jumped out to Threne's eyes were Lillitu Masen, Rotenma Dufan, Erdgar Adurant, and Fabrizio Aquabi.

The name Erdgar Adurant had a thin line drawn through all the characters, as if they were neatly marked out.

And beside all those particular names, those names that interested Threne, there was the short name, "No." The number above the name No matched the number beside the name Ku.

Even criminal organizations had to keep track of their work. Otherwise, they wouldn't be efficient.

These records were also a good way to keep track of all the assassins so they couldn't run away as easily. Threne still had a brand on his thigh that spelled out his old assassin's name. There was once a time when that name was kept in a record and all of his contracts were noted.

Once word gets out that The Colony didn't have these records anymore, most, if not all, of the assassins would flee faster than a rabbit from an owl.

And word will get out.

Threne had drawn out large words in the grass of the largest park in the city with lamp oil. The park was right next to the old building that was The Colony's headquarters. Then, after setting most of the rooms in the old building on fire, he put fire to the oil in the park. The words read, "The Colony's records have been destroyed."

It was a lie, though. Threne didn't plan on destroying them. He was going to sneak the books into the Royal Investigators' headquarters with an anonymous note.

"The Colony is an ancient criminal organization located in Tuwill. They are responsible for the murders of who knows how many people over the years. Here are their most recent records for this generation. The names of each assassin, which are actually aliases instead of legal names, are separated between each book, but that's not very important. Each assassin was forced into their role, I believe. It's normal for children to be sold to the organization and tortured nearly daily in order to forcibly train them to be killers for hire. Most of these people will likely run away because they will believe these records to be destroyed. They will scatter and find new lives all around the country, or around the world. It would be impossible to figure out who all of these people are. It's easier to simply seek out the leaders of the organization."

Threne had purposely left out the fact that the assassins typically had their names burned on their bodies somewhere. He also wrote down the names and physical descriptions of the organization's leaders on the back of the note. Those people had been easy to learn about.

Now, all there was left to do was watch the chaos, and later on he could ask his little jewel if the wishes had been properly granted.

***

The night after the festival, Delma heard rushed footsteps outside her bedroom door. Then the lock was loudly clicked. The door was yanked open. It banged against the wall outside.

Marina Bord and Kuno were there. While Delma couldn't tell what emotion was on Kuno's face, for obvious reasons, Delma could see Miss Bord's sweaty and excited expression.

"Gather your things!" Miss Bord practically screamed out, making Delma yelp and jump in her seat.

Kuno added, "We're leaving now. All of us."

Delma was surprised to learn that Miss Bord was coming with them, and there was luggage for everyone.

She was also surprised to notice all the vehicles off in the distance that seemed to be leaving Tuwill.

Once everything was secured in the carriage and the three passengers were comfortable, Kuno spread his legs a bit and tilted his masked head back. Miss Bord nervously looked through a window. After several wordless moments, they were so far away from the city that Delma couldn't even remember what direction could lead one to it. She chose that time to say to Kuno, "Goodness, I didn't know Miss Bord was meant to come with us." She turned to the blonde woman. "Is something wrong?"

"Not exactly," Miss Bord said with a light tone, her fingers tugging on the knot of her cloak.

Kuno spoke next. "I have a long, painful story to give you, Angel, and I don't think this is the time for it. We should wait until we are safe and settled in Osgarth, but I'll tell you right now that the plan has changed. I'm not going to leave you at a temple. Marina and I are going to stay at an inn with you for a time until we can invest some money into a new home. Then all three of us will stay there."

Delma's brown eyes widened and she leaned forward. Her feet dragged closer to her body. She gripped her knees through her layers of clothing. "A new home? All three of us? You won't leave me alone?"

"I have no reason to," Kuno murmured as his fingers curled into a relaxed state on the seat's cushions.

***

Esther Urvine was rather disappointed to know that she wasn't the one who cracked the case so beautifully open. Rather, it was some anonymous person who literally gave her all the evidence she needed.

Well, at least she had a name.

Kuno.

She didn't care that this Kuno person likely didn't want to kill Lillitu. She didn't care that if Kuno had refused to kill her, someone else would have anyway. She didn't care that the person who likely paid Kuno to kill Lillitu was dead. She didn't care for all of these pieces of information. All she cared about was finding the fucker and taking her revenge. Still ... she wasn't one hundred percent heartless. The other assassins weren't her personal targets. She wrote to the king himself and asked for there to be no official investigation into the assassins, since it would be impossible to find them all anyway. They didn't have physical descriptions of them, didn't even have their ages or sexes, and they seemed to be victims of the organization who had little to no choice in their fates.

Esther still hadn't had a response by the time she was in Tuwill. The Colony's charred headquarters was surrounded by more government officials than Esther could count.

She spent far too many hours interviewing people. When it was dark, Esther did her own unofficial investigation. She asked the locals about the name Kuno. She was given mostly cold looks. Even the children knew better than to trust her. It was infuriating. One person, however, was willing to give Esther some information. A very pretty whore working from an average brothel spoke with her. She had curly brown hair and a sweet temperament.

"Kuno? I've seen that name branded on a customer's ankle, but it was hard to see at first. You have to look truly firmly because the brand has a pattern like wicker and the characters are slipped in there. He's a mostly gentle sort of fellow. He used to visit me every week, but he stopped that a long time ago."

"Do you have any idea where he might be now?" Esther asked.

The prostitute's smile was very innocent. She seemed to have no idea what the results of this conversation could be. "I'm not sure, but if he's not in this city, he's probably in Osgarth. He used to talk about how it would be nice to move there, get married, and have a family."

"What did he look like?"

Esther was honestly surprised to have received a description from her.

***

During the very short time Delma had lived in that house outside of Tuwill, when Kuno socialized with her, it was very bland. He would often sit beside her and talk about the most innocent things. Flowers, music, food, and even literature were among the subjects brought up. Then he'd pat her hand with his gloved one and leave her alone in the bedroom.

Absolutely nothing sexual happened, and Delma didn't know how she was meant to feel.

Now she was in an inn, a very nice inn. She had her own room, a cozy place with decent furniture. She hoped that Kuno would do something intimate with her, either physically or emotionally so. It didn't happen. He only did to her as he had done before, visiting and talking for short periods. The main difference was that he didn't even try to keep her contained. Delma was free to leave her room whenever she wanted.

Miss Bord often accompanied her on little walks around Osgarth. It was a fine city. It wasn't anywhere near as grand as Henrisk, but it suited Delma's tastes. Sometimes Miss Bord was busy doing something with Kuno, and Delma was too afraid to explore the city all alone. So, she remained in her room in the inn.

A few days went on in this way. It was rather boring. At least she was safe, she supposed. Nobody was beating her up. Nobody was breaking her limbs. Nobody was giving her a black eye. One morning, however, the routine was abandoned.

Miss Bord and Kuno told her that they had invested in a new business venture. A third party had been trying to gain funding for a thing called a cotton spinning mill. Miss Bord and Kuno decided to be his investors and business partners. It would take some time to profit from the mill's economic boost. In the meantime, they would be moving into a new townhouse.

The townhouse was sky blue, tall, and thin. Despite the thinness, it was very pleasant. Delma briefly wondered how much money her two companions had stashed away, and then she wondered how long the money would last until the mill became successful ... if it became successful.

The room Delma was given was very pretty. Wooden paneling painted a pale green was on the walls. A plain but elegant canopy bed with white sheets awaited her. She sat on the mattress with a mild groan. Then she dropped her bags onto the wooden floor and lazily looked at a set of thick green curtains that hid the cold day's light. And that was when someone knocked on the door.

"Hm? Who is it?"

"It's me, Angel. May I come in?"

Why not? She shrugged. "Yes, come in."

She watched him enter the room stiffly, uncomfortably, as if he was taking part in a formal ritual. He closed the door and nudged a simple sliding lock over it. Delma was reminded of a time, not so long ago, when she was a Child of Hope in a prayer room and this mysterious man came to visit her.

"Delma, are you comfortable? I have a great deal to tell you."

The painful story? Delma's heart and mind opened wide. She nodded and slid aside, patting a space beside her. Kuno's footsteps made a solemn and suspenseful tune in her ears. The mattress creaked and compressed as he sat down. He looked at his hands. His right index and middle fingers, and the thumb, all went to one finger of the left glove.

Delma's breath stopped.

He tugged the glove away, revealing a fairly normal man's hand. The fingers flexed and stretched out. Then he removed the other glove. There was another completely ordinary hand. The only noteworthy qualities about them were the calluses, occasional thin scars on the flesh, and dotted white scars on the fingernails. Then again, many men had hands like that. Men tended to do the hardest, most intense labor and left the gentler work for the women whenever possible.

He had lightly tanned skin.

Delma was afraid that if she made any remarks then Kuno would stop what he was doing and put the gloves back on.

Then ... those hands reached up ... his fingers were fairly long ... and he peeled, pulled, and unraveled the mask on his head.

By the gods ...

He was an angel!

Shoulder length locks of flame, gold and orange and red, bringing a visual heat to the winter soaked room, they fell about his head with an untidy grace. Very slightly, his tanned head turned and he looked at her with those dark eyes of his. His eyebrows were only a bit darker than his hair. His cheekbones were sharp and high. His jaw and chin were striking. His barely pink lips had just enough plumpness in them to suggest good health and sensuality, especially in the lower lip.

And those lips parted a bit, revealing clean teeth. There was a slight, barely noticeable angle to a few individual teeth, but not so much that the whole set looked badly cared for. Delma firmly believed that it was completely natural, normal, and fine to have a bit of crookedness in the teeth. She was fairly certain that some rich people had surgery done, or used a sort of band with wires over time, to make their teeth impossibly straight.

Pure surprise had Delma speaking. "Kuno!"

One of his fingers rose to tap her lips. Inklings of a smile formed lines under his eyes as the muscles in his cheeks shifted.

A clear and light voice came from him as he looked down at her. "Don't ever call me that frightening name ever again. That's not my name anymore."

She'd call him the king of the world if he wanted! Delma gave a single nod and eagerly asked, "What should I call you, then?"

A careless little shrug, and then he said, "Well, I was very cautious about finding a new identity for you. You even have a backstory. Your new name is Heidi Fisker, by the by. You should start using it."

Delma's eyes narrowed, but a playful smile was trying to break free. "Tell me your name, please."

He made a tsk tsk of a noise with his teeth and tongue. Then he truly grinned. "Well, my friend and I, we had to rush to find our new identities. We don't quite have backstories." The grin softened. "I'm Tomek Maly. My friend is Olga Pasternak."

Waving her bare fingers together against her belly, closing her eyes as if she were about to nod off while sitting up, Delma said, "Now that I know what to call you, I can properly listen to your story."

Something put weight on his voice then, but Delma tried not to let that bother her. He told her, "I was born in a family consumed by poverty and addictive, dangerous drugs."

Of course he was, Delma thought with a pitying kind of exhale.

"When I was five years old, my parents sold me to a criminal organization known as The Colony. It's a centuries old group, passed down from one family member to the next. Their workers have committed several profitable crimes, but their main source of income is assassination. You'd be surprised how many people would give up their life savings just to have someone murdered. From a humble shop owner to the mightiest of nobles sitting in a castle."

Delma nodded and fiddled with a loose bit of hair tumbling out of her simple hairstyle.

"The Colony had me trained to be a murderer. I had to be efficient. I had to be fast. I had to fight when needed. I had to be able to endure the worst physical pain imaginable. My age didn't matter. My training started as soon as I was in their headquarters." Delma's head turned and she warily eyed Kunos' ... no ... Tomek's hands. They were fists at this point.

She asked, "The training ... what did it involve?"

"I don't want to say."

She looked at him. "What can you say?"

"Hmmm ... well ... I'll tell you what sorts of people these children grew up to be." One of his fists opened. Then it closed over the other. "Some eventually commit suicide. Some protect their minds by becoming emotionally desensitized to violence. Some become obsessed with harassing and eventually killing other people, even when they haven't been paid to do so, because they are afraid to become victims again and they think being the abuser is the only path. Some of these people become extreme sexual sadists, taking too much delight in their work. A target assigned to these assassins are truly pitied. While their bodies are often never discovered, we all know that they unnecessarily suffer before they die."

A trembling, a hesitant weakness, a coldness, all these things churned in Delma's belly. "You ... you've ... you've killed people, not only Maino, but ... others." It wasn't an accusation. It was a realization spoken aloud.

"It was how I lived. The Colony took a quarter of the profits, but the rest was mine. Besides, working against The Colony, at least in an obvious way, will turn you into a target and The Colony is the only entity that could successfully track an assassin down, at least as long as the assassin belongs to them."

"Why didn't you run away?"

"I couldn't until now."

"Oh." Delma ... no ... no Heidi was her name now ... she then understood why all three of them had to leave so quickly. Her palm went to her bosom. "What changed? How could you leave?"

"Someone ... we don't know who ... but someone managed to successfully launch a secret assault on The Colony's headquarters. The assailant might have contacted the government once they were finished, which means that The Colony and its leaders could be too preoccupied with hiding their crimes and escaping prison than worrying over their assassins' locations."