THE SABLE SPY | EIGHT

"THE BAIT HAS BEEN SET." Cadieux's voice was grim and hoarse and unpleasant to the ear, as usual. "Now we wait for the catch." The three were sitting in the large bedroom that had been converted into living space. The parlour was there for visitors and outsiders. This was where they truly gathered and relaxed. Cass sat cross-legged on one of the couches, hand pressing the bandage against the healing wound on her arm. Laurence was sprawled next to her. Marcus kept a respectable distance away, on the old, creaking rocking chair, while Cadieux paced around, deep in thought.

The scene was familiar. They'd gathered here many times over the years, discussing missions and even just chatting. This had once been the haven for their ragtag family, but times changed. The clock didn't stop or go back, it just kept ticking forward. People shifted and transformed. Those who didn't evolve, who dwelled in the past were left behind there. Cass had moved on most of all.

"Slow and steady wins the race," Cass mused, tugging her finger through her braided hair. The ribbon was now tied around her wrist like a bracelet. The dark locks fell apart immediately. She let out a sigh of relief, shaking her head as her hair fell on her shoulders. She had braided her hair far too tight, and there was a slight pain around her scalp. She ignored it.

"Now we lie in wait, like animals stalking their prey." Laurence stretched and yawned. "And we say our job isn't melodramatic."

"Not as exciting or melodramatic as most people assume," Cass corrected, "but dramatic all the same."

Marcus stared. "What's so dramatic about waiting?"

"It's not the waiting part, my friend," Laurence let a lazy grin spread over his face, "it's the hunting and stalking part. Also the meeting-the-enemy-in-the-middle-of-the-night part, of course."

"I bet Ciri's being kept at Sial Corner. If this isn't a professional like we believe, it would be the most logical place they bring her. I'll ask some friends for a favour, sic Benjamin on the crooks. Boy has an eerie ability to befriend those on the wrong side of the law," Cadieux muttered, still walking around in circles. "Actually, she might manage to escape herself for all we know. We should keep an eye out for any message she might try to send."

Cass opened her mouth to agree, then a large bang from the ceiling cut her off. She glanced up.

There was a racket upstairs. They couldn't hear the words, but the voices chattering were obvious. Tyler, Georgie's husband who had just returned earlier today, Georgie herself and Seylace. Laurence raised a brow, a silent question, nudging his chin upwards.

"They're helping Seylace recheck his luggage. He'll be in Melique for the next few months," came Cadieux's reply, his eyes flickering upwards as well, as if he could see the three figures squabbling through the ceiling and floor.

Cass's expression darkened, any trace of humour vanishing. "Melique is dangerous."

"Danger is definite in our work. Seylace is the best of the best. You survived by yourself in Gira. Seylace will have St. Honore's people with him." Marcus sighed, clearly not liking it much more than she did. But they could complain all they wanted— they all knew what was necessary in the end. Melique was a common enemy for both Sai and Arecia, so Cass had been most comfortable working against them. Hence, she was well-acquainted with the elegant woman known as St. Honore, an open agent and a skilled spymaster. From what Cass knew, she had been posted in Melique, one of the most dangerous areas in the world for a foreigner since Cass had been born. No doubt Seylace would be safe with her in charge. Still, accidents happened. Friends were lost on the battlefield just as often as enemies. They all had far too many deaths on their conscience. Fallen allies haunting their dreams and nightmares, those they failed to save. It was a burden each of them wore. Some agents let it gnaw at their bones and heart.

Those they killed, too. Cass had operated as an assassin for a short period of time when she was seventeen. Three in Eirao, when Melique-sympathisers started gaining power. Eight in Melique itself, anyone from hiding spies to high-ranking officials and nobles. Another three in war-torn Novokuluga, at the height of their bloody civil war two years ago. If she didn't have nightmares of their faces, twisted in pain and horror at the last moments of their life, she had become a monster. She'd rather deal with the nightmares. She'd made peace with many of them over the years, learnt to live with it. They all had to, to be a good agent.

"Please tell me that at least Tyler would be staying in Arecia for the next year or so," Cass murmured, reaching out for her teacup. "How far along is Georgie?"

Cadieux raised four fingers. "If Tyler insists, I could post him on domestic duty for the near future. Plenty of agents with family insist. Set him on some of the gangs, probably. Liaison duty. Georgie's four months along."

"My father didn't." Laurence's voice was dark and somber. Cass blinked for a moment, caught off-guard, before realising what he meant. She'd forgotten. Jack Dumont had died in Melique, leaving behind Laurence all alone in the world. His mother had died in childbirth years ago, when he was three or four. Laurence had been thrown to the mercy of relatives as his father continued working abroad. When he was a bit older, he was brought to Cadieux. His father hadn't given two shites for him, too work-obsessed. Or perhaps it was his way of drowning his sorrows. Cass had met the late lord and spy once or twice as a child. He always seemed to be carrying far too many ghosts on his broad back, like an Atlas holding up the sky.

But this was not time for pity, condolences or sympathies. Cass left her face emotionless and blank. It would only enrage him anyways. He was not searching for their attention and comforting words. Later, when he was alone, he'd regret ever letting the words leave the safe confines of his head. Let him do it without being even more embarrassed.

Cadieux shot him a warning look. Marcus looked away, giving Laurence the time to recompose himself. It could be awkward, consorting with spies, because they always noticed everything. Most of the courteous ones taught themselves to be considerate, and turn the other way when something that should not be witnessed occured.

Wanting to change the subject, she began to open her mouth to speak, when a loud knock on the door stopped her from speaking. Cadieux raised his brow and began towards it. The other three, without a single word shared between them, snuck into the small passageway that led to a seeing-hole with a view of the entry doorway, quiet as mice.

It was a boy outside, holding an envelope. He couldn't be older than nine, Cass guessed. Red hair, freckles, golden skin smudged with a bit of ash and dirt. You could find hundreds of kids like him running around the city.

"I was told to give this to you, sir." The boy spoke with the accent most Sial Corner-dwellers used. Cadieux tore upon the envelope. Whatever he saw there made his expression darken.

"Don't point and don't look. Who gave this to you, and where? I'll give you five coins." Five coins was probably more than the boy made in a week.

The boy didn't blink an eye. Definitely from the Sial Corner. "Er... he was very tall. Wore a hat and scarf that covered up his face. Dark brown hair from the looks of it. His eyes were grey. Very muscled. A thug, I think. He looked like one. Found me on Grent Road. Gave me a coin for this message."

Laurence and Marcus bolted out of the passageway and to the back of the house, jostling her around, probably to exit through the backdoor and hunt down the man. Cass bit down a hiss of pain. So well-trained. Cadieux didn't need to utter a single word. She didn't join them. Most likely Cadieux would go as well, and a lady running would capture too much attention. Had she had time to disguise herself, she'd have joined them.

Her heart was thumping. The bait worked, then? But the note hadn't gone to 8 Clearance Road. It came here. They must have been followed. Then why not directly attack the carriage on the way here?

Cadieux pushed the boy aside and started running. Cass emerged from the passageway, giving the boy an apologetic look. "I'll grab you the money. Would you like to stay for some food?" He nodded, starstruck.

Calming herself, she brought the boy into the kitchen, calling for Georgiana, who emerged a moment later and ushered her away. Cass went to retrieve the message, left on the table besides the door. The envelope had not been emptied. She glanced inside. There was a lock of hair.

Fuck.

The letter was messily scribbled.

Vawkher's Alley. Friday night. 11 p.m. Or the girl dies.

She inspected the hair before carefully setting it aside. There was no doubt. It was Cirinique's. Captured, then, as hostage to ensure Cass cooperated. So soon? So quickly? She had consulted a map. Barlen was a good four days away by boat. She had been in Arecia for nary a week. Even if the letter had been dispatched the moment Ciri was captured, that still meant at least four days ago. Whoever this was, they were fast. They had people in Barlen. Maybe they were already setting sight on her sister. Maybe this was a personal spat. Ciri would lure Cass to the trap. They knew it. Then what? Both sisters dispatched?

She went near the window, ignoring the tremble in her hand, careful not to cast a shadow. A few minutes later, the three men reentered the house, panting and dishevelled.

"Lost him at Johnaris's Square," Marcus told her. "That guy was not sloppy."

"The envelope has Ciri's hair," she informed them. "Vawkher's Alley. Friday night, eleven o'clock. Trap, most likely, but they have Ciri. I don't like this very much."

"Could it be yours?" Cadieux questioned. "From the ambush? They could have sliced off a lock of your hair without you noticing."

Cass shook her head. "My hair's darker than Ciri's. You can notice it under the light. Mine's black. Hers is dark brown. The lock's also too long for me to not have noticed. They have Ciri."

Laurence looked troubled. He had always been fond of Cirinique. Their skillset was much the same, and they had braved quite a few courts side by side. "That was a skilled professional, not the sloppy ambush. At least now we know it was most definitely intentional murder. We were followed here. Everyone believes we're at 8 Clearance Road."

"My assassin has gotten an upgrade," Cass muttered. "They have money, then. A nobleman, no doubt. What shocks me is how fast they acted. Barlen to here is a full four days. If Ciri was captured there, it would have taken that long for the message to be passed on. They were waiting there. They intended to take both of us. Did Ciri manage to annoy the same person as I did, or is this just a massive coincidence?" If Ciri had uncovered the same as she did, it was possibly the same person. Many resources. She didn't like that.

"It's only Tuesday. They aren't ready. It explains the long wait. They're preparing. We should strike soon," Marcus said. He glanced sideways at Cadieux, who nodded.

"Much easier to explain to the men. We can officially sanction this mission if needed. Ciri's one of us. We'll get her back."

"I'm not that worried about Ciri's safety. They won't do anything to her without me with them. If they're out for both of us, though, and it's personal, it won't be an exchange of any sort. They'll just kill us both."

"We have to meet them," Laurence glowered. "But keep you out of their hands. Preferably grab Ciri as well."

"There wasn't anything about you having to meet them alone. Damn, we could show up with an entire battalion and not break the deal. Truly stinks of amateur work." Marcus sniffed, as if he was disgusted. Perhaps he was. They all admired skill. This was crude and unsophisticated. As spies used to dealing with the creme de la creme of espionage work, this was ironically unfamiliar.

"They managed to get hold of my sister mere days after failing to get me. My sister. Ciri's insanely slippery. Not even we knew where she was, how would she?"

"Kuroki knew."

"Only barely," Cass told Marcus. "And only because Ciri slipped. Most likely she did it on purpose as well, just so that Lady Kuroki wouldn't be worried. Should we alert her and her school? They'd be worried."

"I'll send Tyler out in a moment with a message," Cadieux responded. When Cass looked surprised, he added, "Lady Kuroki arrived with a few of her students just this morning. She'd be willing to join us on the search. Ciri is one of hers as well."

"No one bothered telling me this?" Cass demanded, dismayed. She had not been informed that the Asayaman baroness had even left the country, much less arrived here, and it was a full two days boat trip from Asayama to Arecia.

"We didn't know until this morning," Cadieux told her apologetically. "The missive arrived merely two hours before the lady herself. Considering the events that just occurred, it slipped my mind."

"You should have kept an eye on the boats," Laurence mocked, scoffing.

Cass levelled him with a glare. "You're not the one not allowed to step out in fear of a bullet being put through your heart, Dumont. And in case you haven't noticed, the only servants around me are under you people's control, and I'm not allowed to step foot outside the mansion without permission or companionship, which I understand, but makes it very difficult to keep an eye on anything going on within the city."

He sighed. "Touché," he mumbled. "I haven't had a gun pointed at me for so long."

Marcus looked disgusted. "You want to have a gun pointed at you? You're insane. We'll have someone scout out the location. Is Luke back?" That question was directed at Cadieux, who nodded.

"Asleep. Came back from his assignment in the wee hours of the morning. He'll wake up soon. Vawkher's Alley. I'll get some of the boys to Johnaris's Square in case our mystery messenger stayed around. The boy, Cass?"

"Kitchen with Georgie. We'll feed him and let him go. He's a clever kid. One of the orphans at Janae's Charity House, I think." Lady Janae was known for being charitable. She had set up a house for young orphans to camp in a few years ago, and the boy hadn't been dragged in complete rags, albeit the clothes were obviously second-hand and passed down from one to another. The lady had made the mistake of buying some of her wards brand new and beautiful clothing when she first started, but stopped and agreed to dress them in donated outfits once the garments made them targets for other thieves and children.

Cadieux grunted. "Lady Janae and her god-forsaken legion of orphans. I'll ask. If he is, I'll go with him. It's about time we said hi to the woman."

And thus he was regarded with three equally raised eyebrows. Cadieux glowered at all of them. Lady Janae was a widow— her husband had been old and died mere months after their wedding, and she had discreetly taken a lover or two over the years. Cass highly suspected that Phillippe Cadieux was one of them. From Marcus and Laurence's incredulous expressions, it was a shared belief.

Laurence spluttered out a laugh. "Gods. Stop glowering at us like a bear, sir. I'll lead the search at Johnaris's Square after a bit of food. Marcus can go with Luke. Cass..."

"I will sit here and be useless, as I have been for the last few days." Cass's tone barely hid her exasperation and frustration. She had taken it surprisingly well, but it wasn't going to last long. Soon, her patience would run out. She knew that better than anyone else. Perhaps she could don a disguise and sneak out anyways. If anyone was watching the house, they wouldn't suspect too much. There were a few female agents, though the number was significantly smaller. Since they mainly recruited lesser aristocrats, few females were willing or able to sacrifice their reputations for the work. A man vanishing for a few months could be covered up with travelling and business. A woman? Much, much more difficult.

"Just until Friday!" Laurence said cheerfully. "Have to keep you alive till then, at least. We fetch Cirinique and life goes back to normal." Now he was just being mocking. She glowered.

Yes. She'd go back to travelling around, never staying in one place long enough to feel attached. She had no home. This was the closest she'd been comfortable in a place for a long time. With her family in Asayama, they were all outsiders, and her even more so among them. She couldn't go to Sai as Cassalyn Diao. She'd been there, once or twice, staying near the border cities and villages, but she didn't dare when they were so close to being legally allowed back. They'd never be allowed the same power for a long time— most likely their duchy would be turned much smaller, and an eye would be kept, but it was worth it.

Judging from Marcus's face, he knew that too. She ignored him and grinned. She'd escape him too. No more heartbreak.

A small part of her brain told her it would be nowhere as easy as that.