Snippet #1516914

The Assassins' Guild

After leaving Scheherazade in the care of the Archivist, Amon made his way back to his private office space, which was inconspicuously located amongst a row of similarly-furnished spaces on what was assuredly not the top floor of the building. It would be rather contrary for a master assassin to make his personal quarters ostentatious enough to be noticed apart from the rest, after all.

On his way in, he passed the apprentice doing duty as a receptionist of sorts and stopped. The poor lad was still new enough to look absolutely petrified of him, something that had Amon chuckling inwardly. “Should a man by the name of Garbiel Forgefire come by, do direct him to me.” The lad gulped and nodded quickly, a gesture which Amon himself returned with a good deal more poise before continuing on his way.

He had noted that Etzel and his apprentice seemed to be present also, though he had no idea if the physician-assassin needed to see him specifically or not. For the most part, he let Etzel go about his business as he would. Though he had tried to convince him that staying permanently at the Guild for a while would be just as safe as moving about and being in hiding generally, he could understand if that was not the way he wished to conduct his business. He was, after all, just as much a doctor as he was a professional murderer.

---

Marchfield Laboratories

"You found me out, now my only choice is to send assassins after you." Joshua shook his head. “And here I thought I’d escaped such dangers. Ah well, I suppose things must always be sacrificed for science.” A congenial smile crossed his face before he remembered their destination and it dropped into a frown. Oh, this was going to go marvelously. Good day, Minerva, I know it’s been almost a year since
I last bothered to come by for a chat, but I need you to run over Parliament for the sake of the poorest citizens in the city, none of whom will be a lick of defense for you when the repercussions come down on your head. this was going to be rather unpleasant indeed.

He considered trying his niece instead. She was a member of Parliament, after all; it was possible that she might be able to mobilize enough other members to take care of this without his sister’s interference, was it not? Well, there was little point in hypothesizing now, not when they’d have their answer soon enough.

Joshua ushered the other two in the direction of his personal smallcraft and climbed into the driver’s place himself. The trip through the rather scantly-populated streets of Alpha was quick, and it was not long before they were able to unload in front of the palace gates. It was only the most dreaded kind of nostalgia that he ever felt when looking at the place, but at the very least there was a chance that something could be done here. It wasn’t the Parliament building, after all.

He passed his name to a few of the guards and eventually managed to get the three of them to Alia, the Queen’s personal bodyguard, who took one look at the group of them and ushered the lot into Minerva’s receiving room. The monarch herself was radiant for a woman of her age, having received her own dose of the Cure quite recently. Seated at a writing desk, she looked up as the three entered, gentle eyes lighting up upon recognizing her only sibling.

“Joshua! It has been too long.” The man addressed bowed somewhat swiftly, but she brushed all that nonsense aside and embraced him, stepping back to regard her other guests with warmth. “Ah, you must be the esteemed Mr. Vernazza,” she said of Giacomo, offering a smile. “I’m afraid I do not know your name, Miss, but you are all quite welcome. Please, do sit. My brother scarcely has occasion to make social calls, so I assume you must need something. I assure you, if it is so important as to lure this particular mouse out of his lab, it must be important, and you have my full attention.”

Joshua looked to the others; he was not a man of many words, and for him to ask this of his sister, he knew, would be to taint any future action on her part with the blood between them. He did not need her to be so unfairly regarded. “Well, I think Atalanza here could pose the problem as well as I could, and Mr. Vernazza has a few possible solutions, but we could truly use your help…”

---

The Gilgamesh Estate

Seth had just laid his hand on the doorknob when he felt someone behind him and swung around, instinctively reaching for a blade that was, he realized with a healthy amount of trepidation, not presently there. His father had never been the sort of figure who needed to worry about protection in his own home, and Seth himself was not in the habit of carrying a weapon unless he ventured elsewhere. He kept a concealed one on his person when entertaining guests, but this was not something he’d thought he’d be doing today either.

Despite the man’s excessively chirpy tone, Seth was not so stupid as to believe that this was a simple friendly visit. Gray eyes flicked to the man’s hand, and he immediately recalled something he was not supposed to have read in his father’s private documents. This man was an assassin, and not only that, but the personal lapdog of the princess. And, below the woman herself, Amon Gregory, and Caelin Taylor, number four on Duke Gilgamesh’s hitlist.

It occurred to Seth that this man might very well be here to kill them, in which case it would probably be best to yell through the door at Imogene to escape and try to hold him off for as long as possible (he did not entertain fancies of winning unarmed), but he swiftly dismissed both notions. If Eos of Tartarus had come to kill him, Seth knew he’d be dead already.

Instead, he simply inclined his head, but spoke before opening the door. “My father’s wife is not in the best state right now, and she knows much less of him than I do. If assassins are taught mercy, I ask that you exercise it upon her if not myself.” With that, he opened the door and admitted them both.

“Lady Imogene, I apologize for the intrusion, but it appears that we have a guest. He wishes to… discuss my father, I think.” He shot something between a glare and an inquiry at Eos before seating himself across from his sire’s wife. He would allow her the discretion of choosing the pacing of the interrogation (for he was sure that was what this would be).

---

District Delta

A pair of plainly-dressed individuals were presently making a beeline for the residence of one Pandora Elling. Frankly, both believed the slaying of a simple healer a bit below the threshold of their skill, but as their employer had reminded them, nobody had yet succeeded in what should have been a simple task.

They were stymied by the arrival of a person not in their dossier of Elling’s known acquaintances, though, and they decided to wait until he was admitted. Hopefully, the man would leave soon and they could slip in after him and slay the healer. Otherwise, they would simply have to kill both.

Elsewhere in the city, some of their colleagues were poised to do much the same to a number of other priority targets.

---

The Taylor Estate

Loki could not say she was pleased to discuss Caelin’s death, but she appreciated the frankness with which he was able to do so. Perhaps her company was not as awful as some had accused it of being. Or maybe it was and that didn’t really matter to him. Either would do.

She shook her head at his joke. “Well, you might feel like an old man, but I assure you that your experience dealing with Parliament is most valuable. As is your conscience.” The last was more true than she cared to admit- Loki was well-aware that she had a less-than-perfect method of trying to figure out when she was taking things too far. She liked to think that she had the best interests of the city in mind, but she did not believe that all means to an end were equally valid. Unfortunately, this knowledge alone was not always enough to differentiate the acceptable means from the too-ruthless ones, ones that would have made her scarcely better than Gilgamesh himself.

It scared her, the possibility that she might end up like the Prime Minister. It was assuredly one of the reasons she kept Caelin’s counsel- unlike her, he was actually a compassionate individual with a discernible moral compass along some axis other than efficient/inefficient.

She was stopped from saying anything further by a noise from outside the door. “Did you hear that?” she asked quietly, calmly setting her teacup down on the table in front of her. It sounded quite a bit like someone was out there, but trying not to make any noise. Silently, the princess rose to her feet, stooping for a second to withdraw a knife from the side of her boot. She’d dealt with too many attempts on her life in the past year to take any possible threat less than perfectly seriously. Nobody was supposed to know she was here; she’d been so paranoid that she hadn’t even told Carlisle where they were headed until they were in the smallcraft.

A second later, the answer to her question was irrelevant, because the door burst open to admit a pair of assassins (though obviously Guild renegades). Carlisle followed, but she shook her head. “Find Siri and as many of the staff as you can; look out for others. Keep them safe.” Just two? Gilgamesh underestimates us… again. Frowning, she drew the one on the left to the far side of the room. They’d probably snuck past Caelin’s security… certainly more comforting than the possibility that they’d killed them.