*COMPLETE* There are whispers across the kingdoms that the Paragon, that strangely gifted person who can wield all four Skills, has been found.
They're wrong, of course. No one has caught the Paragon. Allayria should know: she's it.
But Allayr...
Rushed voices float through the cracks in the door, strained and biting words swiping past each other as someone works on the lock. They haven't realized it's broken.
Allayria sweeps a hand around, extinguishing the lights as she hears the others shuffle in the room.
"—said they found out about the Westling brats."
It's Vern, Brezkin's captain of the guard; Allayria recognizes the grumbling timbre, sour and flat.
"If you don't get this open in five seconds I'll break your hand."
The door springs open and they hear him stomp inside.
"Stay there!" he barks back at the other person.
Allayria looks across the room, locking eyes with Meg, who is pressed against the wall next to the door, and then Ben, who is stooped behind a stack of boxes. He has his knife out. He nods at her, feet easing apart and eyes flickering back toward the doorway.
Light streams across the floor as Vern holds up a lamp. Ben springs out from his hiding space and the light flickers. Allayria wheels around her stack of boxes and dodges as a large hand barrels down in the space in front of her. Vern leans forward, surprise quickly being replaced with rage, but suddenly jerks back, the lamp and his sword clattering to the ground as his hands paw around his neck. Meg is perched on his back, holding the tied ends of the fur sash taut as the captain gasps.
Ben slips in, punching his knife into Vern's stomach before a hand lashes out. As Vern swings at him again, face splotching purple, Iaves drives another knife into his side and brings a boot down with a crunch on Vern's knee.
He collapses, emitting a strangled screech, and Allayria, hovering at the edge of the scene, kicks the sword out of his reach. Meg has a boot on the back of his neck now, and she's pulling the sash up as Ben's foot collides with the wound on Vern's side.
Vern doesn't die easily. He's still scrambling for his sword, emitting short, huffing bursts of air as Iaves pins him down and Meg pulls the sash farther up, forcing the pale column of his neck to be exposed.
Ben does it in one quick slash. He then stands, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. The motion leaves a trail of red in its wake.
Allayria has the lamp in hand and the bags by the door. She can't quite look at the thing on the floor, and she doesn't want to think about what she has just seen.
"What are we going to do? Leave him?" she asks, her gaze unwillingly drawn back down to the body.
Ben frowns, looking down too.
"Roll him onto his back and prop him up against the wall," he tells Iaves. He then turns, rummaging in the desk and pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill.
"Anyone have a pin?" he asks.
"Yeah," Meg pants, pulling one out of her waistband and handing it to him.
He pins the sign on Vern, leaning down and straightening it before standing back.
"What do you think?" he asks critically, scratching the side of his face.
Iaves looks down on at "Traitor" scrawled in black.
"It's certainly not subtle," he says.
"Subtlety is lost on politicians."
"And the press," Meg says, somewhere on the other side of a puffed up couch.
Iaves snorts.
"Well, you'll certainly get their attention."
"Maybe that will make some of them think a little more carefully about what they do," Ben says, his eyes moving up and down his work.
Meg grabs a bag, slinging it over her back.
"This is great and everything, Ben, but we have to move," she says over her shoulder.
When they reach the top of the cellar stairs they find the baker huddled in the corner, head bent low and hands over his neck. A set of keys lie on the ground next to him.
"I don't know who you are," he blabs, his voice quivering from between the sleeves of his striped pajamas. "I didn't see your face. I didn't hear your voice. I didn't see or hear anything—and that's all I know about anything."
The others exchange a look and Allayria merely lifts her eyebrows when Ben's gaze finds hers.
Please, leave him be.
Ben nods his head toward the door, ushering them out in silence. They run, fleeing down cobblestone streets, putting distance between themselves and what will soon become a swarm of guards, investigators, and councilmen. The party will arrive to find a frightened baker, a dead man, a room full of evidence, and a neat stack of letters and maps, showing when and where in the city the Jarles have hit. Allayria wonders what they will think of it all—what her parents and the other ambassadors will think of it all, when it comes out. They must know Brezkin, maybe even Serfigue too.
Allayria swallows, tugging the sack higher on her back.
They dump their bags onto the ground at their temporary hideout, Iaves glancing out the window as they do.
"Is Rex coming?" Allayria asks, following his gaze.
He nods.
"She is leading Keno back here. The streets are thick with guards."
"Sounds like they have found Brezkin's stash," Meg comments, plopping down on the table, feet curling along the edge.
"We should keep an eye out for block searches," Ben throws in, and then he looks around at their slumped shoulders and Meg's wide yawn. "Ah, I'll go do that. Take a minute."
He climbs up the ladder, feet disappearing behind the latch, but after a few moments Iaves trudges to his feet, hand rubbing against one eye. He looks around, seemingly at a loss, and then:
"I'll go too," he mutters, and ambles up to the roof.
Allayria catches Meg's glance sliding over toward the closed room, where their guest hangs, and Allayria's gaze follows.
"I probably should go see if he's awake," she says lightly, and she slides off the table.
"Need any help?" Meg asks, but her gaze is fixed on the window, watching the movement on the street below.
"No, I think I can handle him," Allayria answers.
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Hello from the past! Now I am probably climbing through a cave, looking at all of the pretty colors and rock formations and definitely trying not to think about that one movie where all those girls went cave splunking and then got eaten by the crazy cave monsters hiding in the tunnels. I'll be fine.
Who isn't going to be fine is Florringham, who's never getting over this one.
Note: A full view of the header art can be found on my deviantart account here: http://asimsluvr.deviantart.com/art/Iaves-658285947
