THE SABLE SPY | TWELVE

  IF CASSALYN'S INJURY was still bothering her by the time they got into their second carriage to stalk Ned Liu, she didn't show. She was deceptively carefree as she asked him to turn around so that she could change. A second later, she wore a black skin-tight shirt with an armoured corset and breeches to top it off. Marcus allowed his eyes a split second to glance over her shape before tearing his gaze away.

Not now, not today.

He, unlike many others, was more than able to ignore certain feelings for serious matters such as these. If they were caught, the game would be up. Questions would be asked. Tyler drove the couch, keeping a careful eye on Ned and Francis's. The two men had arrived in the same one, but Francis had been dropped off moments ago at his usual quarters. Ned had continued on.

Cass was pulling her dark hair into a tight bun, an eyebrow arched. She always had that expression, as if she was slightly amused, slightly disappointed. A tad condescending, a tad humorous. It kept people on their toes, because they could never quite tell what she was feeling.

Stealth had always been her strong suit. It was why Cass had acted as assassin as well. In a world of brutes and monsters, they had chosen Cass to do that monstrous work. She had nightmares— he'd heard her stirring in her sleep. Sometimes, he'd spot a haunted look in her eyes. She hid her darkness well. She had to.

"That's past the usual route to his apartments." Cass's eyes gleamed with anticipation. "He's not heading there immediately, that's for sure."

"The meeting is in two days. If he's involved, he'd most likely be planning it. Maybe he'll think the plan over, realise it's dumb and let your sister go."

"With our luck?" She drawled slowly. "Very unlikely. I always make it out of situations alive, it seems, but always so very barely. It is the most annoying, you know."

"You're not a fighter. If you were in a situation where you could barely escape unscathed, you already lost."

"Correct. Which is why I so rarely find my life in mortal danger." Her manicured hand, covered in a pair of fingerless leather gloves she had slipped on tapped against the seat. "I'm a good spy, I like to think."

"You're the Little Sable. You're one of the best in the whole bloody game."

"And yet here I am."

"We get so used to playing against professionals we forget how to deal with the irrationality, stupidity and unpredictability of amateurs and newcomers. It's a flaw we can't oversee. Perhaps I'll get our new recruits to attempt to plan their own operations and have our experienced agents try to thwart it."

"Good thinking." Her praise shouldn't make him swell with pride, or feel anything at all, but it did. "Have the experienced agents make their own plans for the recruits to study as well. Let them learn from each other. I think Lady Kuroki does something like that. The older students do not succeed nearly as much as one might think they would."

"So, not every time?"

"Newcomers win, say, one in every thirty times." A one-shoulder shrug. "I believe Ciri won once."

"Your sister wasn't exactly a newcomer, was she?"

Cass seemed to give it some thought, before stating, "No. I suppose not. The Duchess had us trained from an early age. She saw something in the two of us."

"It's the way you two hold yourself. It can be practised, but you two were born with it. Even the first time I saw you, you freaked me out. You walk, stand and do everything with grace, elegance and confidence. You can try to hide it, but your eyes always give it away, calculating, keeping track of everything in the damn room. Ciri was like that too, but she learnt to cover it up with charisma and charm as she grew older. She settled into a permanent role. You never did."

"I never saw the need. I was the assassin, the thief, the blade in the night, the wraith in the shadows. I adapted but never transformed. I did not want to lose myself, you see. That seems to be a great conundrum among those of our occupations."

Marcus kept an eye on the carriage, splitting his attention between Ned Liu and the woman before him. Both were a puzzle he needed to crack. "Laurence has that issue. He loses himself in the rogue."

She shook her head, her glossy dark hair glimmering under the soft moonlight. "No. The rogue is within him. He simply lets it run free when he plays his roles. We use the same tactic. We are not like Ciri, who meticulously carves out an entire different persona. You, meanwhile, do not like acting at all."

"My role is the quiet, reclusive heir who generally dislikes social events. It so happens that it matches my true personality. A lucky coincidence. Convenient for me, wouldn't you agree?"

Her eyes gleamed with something that seemed like amusement. "A lucky coincidence indeed. We are not all so lucky that society accepts us as we are, unfortunately."

She was warming up to him, whether she knew it or not. This conversation almost felt like the ones they used to have, with her on her bed and him on her bedchamber floor. Or the few times they had been on either together. They could chat for hours, musing over their friends and their latest missions and what could have gone better and what had gone wrong. Sometimes her head laid on his lap, and he'd stroke her hair, marvelling over how silky and soft it was. And their eyes would meet and she'd give him a cheeky little grin, one reserved only for those who understood her. It was why he had always felt so attracted to her. They knew every nook and cranny of each other's brains. They could have silent conversations without a single word uttered between them, just the meeting of the eye. She knew what he needed and wanted and he knew what she required. It was a seamless partnership. They knew each other better than they knew themselves.

Well, clearly, he hadn't known everything. She had been able to fool him quite spectacularly. He had been embarrassed and humiliated. So he lashed out. And she was never quite able to hold back that tongue of hers. Fire met gasoline. An explosion was the result.

He hurt her. Badly. And he could never take it back. But he could find a way to make it up to her. She was a rootless island drifting from place to place, lonely and bittersweet. Would she have been like that, had he been less prideful and her less stubborn?

They might be married by now. Cass wasn't a virgin. They had taken care of that one summer night, after a successful mission that had left them both giddy and drunk with pride when he was eighteen. Laurence had vanished into some alley with a pretty chit and only went back to their inn the next morning. Cass and Marcus had taken advantage of the rare moment of solitude. It had been one of those rare missions where Cadieux wasn't there to supervise them.

It would be difficult for her to find a good match anywhere else unless she planned on faking it. They had been in love. Truly in love. Back then, they were both too young, but they had made each other unspoken promises while basking in the soft moonlight, lying in the bed of the inn, limbs entwined and bodies sprawled across each other, bliss with joy, drowning in the all-consuming feeling of young love, gasping between kisses and giggles, too naive to think about the consequences of their actions and the darkness the future may bring. Once, he thought it would be easy. When she was old enough, he'd propose and they'd be married and they'd become an inseparable team, unstoppable against the might of the entire world. And then they had separated and he found himself just as lost as he seemed, only that he had other people to lean against. Cass had no one but a teenage sister barely out of the school room with the tendency to vanish for weeks with barely a word, and who was halfway across the world even when her location was known.

"I have been fortunate." He laid his head backward, his eye still trained on the window. Cass wouldn't be able to glance out without being obvious about it, so the job was on him and Tyler. She was to make sure no one was stalking them. It was not fun when the hunters became prey as well. There was a Saian phrase for that, one that Cass loved to say. What was it again? He couldn't remember. It had been too long. Something about cicadas and grasshoppers and birds.

"We are heading towards Sial Corner. That is promising." Cass's eyes narrowed slightly. She was on alert now.

"That's where I found you those years ago," Marcus murmured, nudging his chin towards the street they were passing by. "Remember that night?"

"It was rather amusing, I must admit," she flashed him a small, fleeting smile. He'd kill for those. Usually, she resembled a timeless ancient statue, carved from marble and alabaster. But when she smiled, and her entire face lit up, that was a temporary glance at the cunning brain that laid underneath. Once, she wouldn't have bothered hiding it in front of him. He'd make her forget to put up the mask.

"He's up to something," Marcus mused, noting the signs hanging outside shops. "No self-respecting gentleman would ever come this deep into the slums without some kind of nefarious purpose."

"You have been here multiple times. You are still a gentleman."

"As I said, nefarious purposes. And I'm not the one who lived here for months."

"Touche, but I am not a gentleman either. I hardly even pass off as a lady."

A shrug. "I'd say you're close enough. You'd never be one of those milksop misses who's too scared to even meet you in the eye. You have a spine of steel. Being a proper lady would kill you, suffocate your spirits. Us men could afford to play the rogue and the rake, but a lady..."

"It is not the misses's faults, you know. Many of them can be brave and intelligent if need be. But when the world tells you that it is a man's job and yours is to sit still and look pretty, you accept it slowly."

He took a moment for that to sink in. "What you're saying is that you could have just as easily been one of them had you not been born into your family."

"Oh," a titter, "I would have been one of them had my great-aunt not taken pity on us. Many of my female cousins are blushing debutantes. You have not met many of them, have you?"

"I've only been to Asayama once, and barely had a chance to meet any of your relatives. What I know of them I know from you and Ciri."

"One might expect my cousins to be like Lady Asteria. But no. Our family is so different from branch to branch. It is sad, really."

"She reminds me of you."

"Lady Asteria? I suppose we both share the same aura. But we are not the same, she and I. She was born to lead. You could see if in the way she walks. She holds herself as a future duchess would. Me, I am a nobody from an exiled noble family. I was forged to obey orders and execute them properly. She is the chess player, you see, and I am merely the pawn."

"A pawn is not what comes to mind when one thinks of you."

Another laugh. "No. I suppose you must consider me a rogue pawn, one that has jumped off the chessboard in an attempt to find her own path. But I always return to the board in the end, eh?"

"You're too independent and secretive to ever make a good spymaster. You like to either work alone or with a small group of people. Not massive networks that spread across the world. You're no Cadieux or your great-aunt, the Duchess."

"Too independent and secretive seems to be the source of most problems in my life." She rubbed her arm again.

Marcus stayed silent for a moment, unsure how to respond. Agree? She may take offence, and it was verging dangerously on the topics that would cause her to shut down again. She promised to talk to him after this mission was done, but what was stopping her from turning away again? Her heart wasn't the only one at risk. Six years and he still almost froze at the mere sight of her. Six years and his heart still thumped when she moved close.

Thankfully, she spoke before he made a mistake. "Our carriage is slowing. Is my dear cousin finally exiting his carriage?"

Marcus jolted back to attention. Ned Liu's unmarked carriage had finally slowed down and stopped in front of a tavern. "The Silent Willow. I've been here once. I know a nice spot that offers a perfect view of the inside."

"Let us wait for Tyler to stop the carriage first before that," she murmured, patting her hair to make sure it was still tied up. "You ready?"

"Always." He flashed a grin, his hand wrapping around the carriage door. When the carriage paused and there was a slight rap against the carriage walls, the two of them slipped out, no more than two shadows in the night. He darted from shadow to shadow until they were in the alley behind the tavern. Cass followed with startling efficiency. He had forgotten how good at this she was, as if it was naught more than a simple dance she performed in front of an audience every night. Each step she took was carefully calculated, but she never even paused. A professional through and through, it was pure pleasure watching her work.

With one arm hooked across a ladder, he swung himself upwards. Swiftly, the two made way to the roof of the two-storeyed building, the bustling of the tavern's patrons loud and clear to their ears. Cass seemed untroubled by her arm, and Marcus relaxed a little. Shielded by the cacophony, Marcus allowed himself to speak. "We won't be able to hear him, but we'll be able to see what he's doing."

"That would be enough." Her words were soft as she surveyed the area, stalking towards the edge to glance down. She kept her body carefully on the roof, as if worried it might cast a shadow and give them away.

"This building was built during the Blarkens' period."

"That explains why it is so old and ugly. But that is not what you refer to, no? Most Blarkens buildings have secret passageways and hiding spots. I thought they were well-hidden."

"This one wasn't well-hidden enough, clearly. Come and follow me. Be quiet. They can hear us there."

He opened the hatch on the roof that led down to the attic, sliding down soundlessly. Cass followed. The attic was dusty and quiet. From there, they made their way to the second floor. After ensuring it was empty, he moved to one of the walls and slowly pushed it to the side. It was an empty panel, hiding a small, cubicle room that had not been cleaned for many years. Some of the barmaids came here once in a while, probably, because there were a few trinkets left here and there. But it was working hours, and no one would be checking.

Bringing his finger to his lips, he pushed aside the carpet on the ground. This was what most people didn't realise, that there were small holes drilled there, offering them a limited view of the tavern underneath. Behind him, Cass carefully replaced the wall before kneeling besides him.

"The booth by the window." Marcus followed Cass's gaze. Ned Liu had changed his clothes as well. Marcus would not have recognised him easily with such a small view. His face was covered by a large hat, and he wore a coat that made him seem larger than he was. A man with something to hide. Everything about him screamed guilty.

"He's waiting for someone." You could see it in the way he tapped his feet impatiently, stealing glances at the tavern door, studying every person who walked by. He did it too obviously. He fit the bill perfectly. An amateur with a guilty conscience was easy to catch. It took time for a man to turn into a monster, or reach that careful balance in between. Cousin Ned had not made that transformation yet.

Cass made a soft clicking voice. "So sloppy. Great-aunt Vinelle did not teach us to be so obvious."

"Ned received training?"

"All of us did. The basic ones, anyways. He should still know better than to keep glancing in the direction of the door every other second. Reeks of anxiousness."

"He has something to hide."

"That is painted all over him. Whatever it is, it is eating at him. See how nervous he is. If he is meeting an accomplice here, he does not like them."

"Fear. Blackmail, then? Is there anything about Ned Liu worth blackmailing?"

Cass seemed to give it some thought, and then shook her head in the dark. "Not that I am aware of. If it is Ned, it explains how he might have known how I was in Gira and Ciri in Barlen. My great-aunt is very knowledgeable, you see. She knows the two of us best."

"That's one mystery solved, I suppose. I do not think he is the mastermind, no? No one can feign that amount of stupidity."

A strangled sound that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. "You are correct in that regard."

"Does Ned do business in Gira?"

"Probably," she replied with a shrug. "I do not keep an eye on my relatives as I do not expect them to try and kill me, as most sane people don't. My mistake. I will do better next time."

"Could this be a business partner, your mysterious Saian assassin and traitor? They would know Ned, and might have something Ned wants."

"So my relative sells me and my sister's life for money?" She frowned. "Very mercenary and materialistic. I am hurt. Wounded deeply."

"Would you prefer your relative killing you because they want to, my dear Cass?"

She let out a soft sigh. "No, I suppose not. Oh, and look, here comes our mysterious guest. My cousin has straightened up and his eyes are following— there. The wiry man in patched clothings by the bar. There, do you see? Not our stalker."

"A different man. Might be working for the same people. Shame I can't see his face better."

The man in question stopped in front of Ned Liu's booth, exchanging a few curt words before sliding in. His back was to them, which was annoying both of them. Ned's muscles were tense, and he seemed to answer the questions with great care. The two of them watched side by side, unblinking and unmoving.

They couldn't hear the conversation, but Ned Liu spoke with his body. When he raised two fingers and whispered something before nodding like a madman, she muttered, "That would be two days, no? He is involved, then?"

"Can you think of another reason for your merchant cousin to be loitering around a seedy tavern with strange men? Blackmailed, definitely."

"I suppose I should feel sorry for him."

"He tried to kill you."

Cass shrugged. "Fair point. I do not feel sorry for him at all. Parricide is very annoying and rude business, especially when you are the intended victim."

"Do you think Ciri is being kept nearby?"

"Oh, definitely, but even someone wholly experienced can easily hide a captive in a place like this. There is a reason slums are slums no matter what the government tries to do."

That was referring to the Crown Prince's attempt at cleansing Sial Corner a few years ago. His first bill, and completely unsuccessful, a young boy's youthful naivete trying to change the world for the better. Prince Stephen had learnt and matured after that, and his new bills were much more realistic.

"And look. Our guest is already leaving. Ned looks fearful and very much annoyed. You can hear him thinking, 'why bring me out here for so few words?', but he is too afraid to voice that opinion out loud. From that, we deduce whatever power they have over him, it is strong. Otherwise, he'd be growling even as he complies with their every step."

"Now Ned is leaving as well."

"So we leave too," Cass hummed, pushing herself up. "Wait for a moment first, though, hmm? In case someone notes the carriage." Marcus followed suit and placed a year against the wooden panel, listening for footsteps outside. A few minutes passed, and he heard nothing. He motioned for Cass to follow.

Quiet as mice, the two of them slipped out of the room once more, heading towards the ladder up to the attic. They were halfway there when they heard voices and footsteps heading upstairs. Eyes widening, Marcus threw upon a door and both of them ducked inside, shutting it quietly behind them.

Too late, though, someone had already noticed. "Who on earth—"

Cass instinctively locked the door. Marcus looked confused, but she didn't stop to explain as she moved across the room. The owner's office, an ugly and small room with few possessions, but she messed around with the things on the desk and yanked out the cupboards and drawers, grabbing a few trinkets. Marcus immediately understood, pulling the window open and aiding her in robbing the place. The banging on the door turned louder, and yells merged into it. Without another word, they leapt out of the window, leaving it open behind them.

"Risky," Marcus whisper-shouted as they grabbed onto the ladder they had used to go up. Cass winced— she had caught it with her bad arm and was now placing all her weight there as she swung towards it. Marcus reached out for her other hand and secured her grip on the metal pole. She slid down like a spider. Marcus followed.

"No choice," she mumbled back, head raised upwards at the anxious heads poking out of the window. "We need to go fast, before they come out to chase us. Like a cat, she darted out of the alley, and Marcus followed. They'd be seen, but their features would be impossible to make out in the murky darkness.

Tyler had driven the carriage down the road and stopped there, waiting. He looked rather annoyed as the two of them hopped inside, probably at their discoveration. Without a word, the carriage continued on into the night, with the two of them panting inside it.