Chapter 53
Head of the Cloudshow gang
Tu Zai sat at the table where he always did. His face was carefully hidden by the hanging curtain and the shade coming from the custom window.
He took a sip from a cup of tea and placed it down. "Tell me."
The lady in front of him trembled. Everyone else had nominated her to give the news. Large toothy smiles stretched across her face when they were choosing her, she thought it was because they were finally recognizing her hard work.
It was a shame, then, when she actually read the report.
Five of the clouds were dead.
The horror that gripped her almost made her flee the organization. The only thing that stopped her was one recognition. Where would she run to?
The woman shivered. An indebted peasant girl running around in an unfamiliar city?
"M–master, the five clouds you sent to do the job are…all dead." She whispered the last part, doing her very best to shrink into the folds of her clothes.
The master remained silent, tracing the lip of his porcelain cup and slowly tapping the index finger of his free hand on the table. He let out a slow exhale, and she sighed in relief, taking it as a sign to continue, even as she tried to disappear into her clothes, "They were found in the grain fields early this morning. The field overseer, Liang's men, were—"
Bang!
He slammed his palms on the table, and a small tremor ran through the air. She wasn't sure if it was from the leader or her own fear.
"All that time in training. Wasted!"
She took notice of how his first thought was the amount he'd invested in them, but she said nothing. One day, when she could pay off her debts, she'd run as far away from here as she could.
"What else? Did you find out how they died?"
"Bear, att–tack, master," she flinched when he threw another cup. "Out. Leave this place!"
She ran out, not bothering to retrieve the report she dropped on the way."
Tu Zai fumed, he would have to find another way to get at the boy. He was more dangerous than he thought.
"Call in Aliun."
The wind.
Nothing in the room made a sound except for Tu Zai himself. The lady froze. She had heard about him, but that was all. Nobody liked to speak of that man unless they absolutely had to.
That's what he was called in their organization. It was because he could be in and out of a place just like the wind. You would only know he was there by the bodies that were left, or your secrets suddenly becoming common knowledge.
This was not about completing a job anymore. It was about pride. The pride of the cloudshow gang. His pride. He'd sent out a group of trained assassins, and they'd all died. Mutilated in front of the city fields.
What would his clients say?
His enemies?
He had to fix this.
Khan
Lady Vespara's mansion felt alive.
Like the forest after a heavy rain, I could hear the sounds of the servant's unintelligible murmuring in the next room, the creaking of the floorboards under my feet—I felt heavier, somehow. In the corner, I noticed a spider move, out of the edge of my perception, and immediately focused on it.
I had come straight here after I washed up. Smelling like blood and slowly rotting intestines would have been a sure giveaway that something was wrong.
I sniffed, taking in all the new scents, the hint of that spicy, hot, and sweet Araye bread. I ran my hands over the snow-white walls as I passed.
The grain of the walls felt like little sand mounds. Everything I was doing was to adjust myself to the feel. The sheer force in my hands.
This feeling was like holding an egg in my hands and trying to fight somebody without breaking it. My sense of touch was the same, but I had to control my strength now.
Under the cloak, I smirked a little bit. I liked that. The strength. Not the constant need to keep myself on a leash. Constantly shifting between elated and scared, cautious.
If I didn't, then I would accidentally destroy something.
And then they would start to ask me questions, then I would have to provide answers.
Answers that would put me in a dangerous situation. Even the butler, who was next to me right then, eyed me suspiciously, as I hid under my cloak. I'd bought a new one from the market, as dark as possible and overly long.
He pulled his hands to his back and looked at me from the corner of his eye. "You seem to have changed…hunter."
I gulped, making sure not to look at him. My face was hidden under the darkness and the cloak, but my caution made me feel more visible than a white rabbit in an open field.
*Ahem* Ahem* "The coughs came out too loud. Like bellows, and I rushed to answer, forcing my voice smaller, "It must be the candles…my lord," I almost cursed myself as the sound struggled to push through the thick fabric.
I knew that even as I said the words, they sounded weak. But I clung to the excuse. In a way, I was right. Candles in the dark did have a way of shifting perceptions, I'd seen it. Sometimes, the shadows they cast were like paintbrushes on reality.
Unfortunately, poetic thoughts wouldn't protect me from real issues. Especially not a cultivator at my neck.
The butler squinted. Tighter this time, his eyes had settled into thin dark slits, "Is that so?" He looked me over fully. He used his eyes the same way a climber would on a mountainside, roaming around looking to find a hollow point.
Somewhere he could latch on to.
A drop of sweat fell from my chin to the dusty floor, and I could feel the heat from my skin accumulating under my cloak.
I thought of the stench of blood and rot that clung to my skin even after I had scrubbed. If he caught a trace of it and started asking more questions—
I forced the thought down.
He was still there.
The hallway seemed quieter, even our boots clacking on the floor seemed too loud for me. They acted like strings holding me on a cliff. The more I walked with him, the more strings were torn apart.
I was starting to sweat more.
'Maybe I shouldn't have come.' But I shook my head to banish the thought. The library was too important for me to leave alone. Especially when I had just over a week left to use it. I pulled the hood of my cloak further over my face.
The ropes of tension stretched tight, and we reached the door of the library. I looked around for the servant lady. Someone I could shift the butler's attention to.
"Alright then," the butler put his hands on the handles of the door, "You must remember, you have two hours."
I heard him, but the words went in one ear and skidded out the next. I pulled tighter on the hood of my cloak, taking care to only give unintelligible answers. "Mmm, oh, ahh" , the nervousness forcing my fingers to do anything possible to stay unnoticed.
The butler continued to stare at the side of my head, and I could feel his suspicion slowly rising. I stepped forward and pushed open the door, intending to get away, but he sprang out his hand and held me by the shoulder, next to my neck,
*Trrsk* I was caught off guard. I might have been stronger, yes, but that didn't stop me from being unprepared. I could hear the seams of the hood start to pop out. The moment he pulled my arm, I was brought out of balance, my fingers still on the side of my hood, pulled it forward to one side, leaving a part of my face uncovered.
For a second, I froze in fear, but then the thought of what had happened hit me and I immediately came to my senses, turning my head into the shadows of the large, wooden library door and readjusting my cover.
I didn't know if he'd noticed or not, as he was behind me, but I was sure I felt his gaze intensify.
Standing there, I waited for him to say something. Whether he had noticed or not would determine my next decision. I readied myself, and within my cloak, I put my hand around my dagger.
Too much blood and hardship had been spent on getting the spirit grass. I wouldn't let all that be wasted away because of a mistake.
I wasn't a murderer, but if he said the wrong words—
"You have just eight days left. The lady will be expecting her spirit beast skin."
His voice was almost friendly, like he was talking about a fair or some gossip, but his face looked like the harshness of winter.
"Make sure the candles don't burn anything in there."
My hand was still tucked to the side, clenched, ready to turn from frightened peasant boy to hunter at the slightest hint of confirmation.
From the corner of my eye, I stared at him like he owed me something before quickly ducking through the open door, walking as fast as I could deeper into the library.
From the darkness, his voice caught up to me, "I hope you do not fail…hunter," And he turned his gaze just enough that I could feel it grazing heavily on my neck, like it could tear through and steal my secrets.
I felt accused.