Cameo the Assassin (12 page)

“What in the world do you mean?”

Bel crammed into the little pantry with the two of them and said, “Look what I have, some hard-boiled eggs and some smoked meat I borrowed from a smoke house. Can you believe that luck?”

“Well, this is the country,” Kyrian volunteered.

“All right, well, you’ll need all your strength, Opal, so eat up.”

“I’ll go check on Cameo.”

“Good idea, lad.” Bel dismissed him quickly and turned back to his injured friend. Only Opal noticed that boy winked at him as he scampered away.

“That little letch!”

“How can you say that? He just healed you.”

Black Opal grumbled something else that turned into a groan as he reached for his shoulder pack. “Oh, how I detest that lad.”

Bel retrieved his pack for him soberly. “How are you feeling?”

Opal wondered if Bellamy was actually being serious for a moment. “Well, fabulous, couldn’t be better,” he flashed a smile.

“Sarcasm from you, Opal?” Bel was genuinely surprised.

“I’m not being sarcastic. I’m just ... hungry that’s all.”

“Hmm. Well, once you’re feeling better, we can get out of here, anyhow.”

“What do you mean?” Opal said.

Bel brushed some loose soot from his jacket. “I mean we can get out of here.”

Opal took a bite of an egg, “How is Cameo doing?”

“Well, she’s a zombie—”

“Don’t call her that!”

Bel rolled his eyes. “You aren’t going to stick around for her, are you? We’re safer without her vampire friend close by.”

He ate the food Bel found for him quietly.

Bellamy watched Opal for a few moments in silence, then moved into the other room when it became apparent he was being ignored.

* * * * *

She watched, a soul caught in an empty shell as Haffef had vanished, then Opal passed out, and Bel and Kyrian carried him downstairs. The ceiling in the sparse room was made of plaster. It was white and bumpy, and pieces of it were chipped and dangling. She watched night become day. She could feel her broken jaw resetting itself, and her ribs reassembling within her chest.

Kyrian appeared and looked into her eyes as if appraising the situation. He glanced at the wall and the hair and scalp she had left embedded there. With a bit of a look of disgust on his young face, he probed her hair to see what kind of mess he had been left with.

She wondered if this was what her death would be like.

The lad left, and the day wore on. She watched the changing sunlight streaming in through the broken window and lines of shadow changing the shape of the room a bit.

Black Opal sat on the floor across the room from her; he seemed pained.

Hours seemed only a moment to her, and when she was aware again he was gone. It was night again. Kyrian stood at the window, basking in the cool moonlight.

Cameo clenched and unclenched her hands as the sensation began to return to them.

The moon’s light shifted in the sky, and the lad was asleep under the windowsill.

She touched her mouth and felt to see if she still had all of her front teeth. Her tongue confronted the missing and broken back teeth on the left side of her face.

Early the next morning, Kyrian returned with a basin of water and a sponge, which he used to dab away some of the blood on her face.

“I’ll do that.” Opal slid off his gloves and took the sponge from Kyrian.

Cameo’s eyes stared up at the ceiling, milky and corpse-like. Her skin was pallid, with dried blood caked over her face. He dabbed her cheek with the sponge and the blood ran off her jaw-line, revealing a thin scar where her jawbone had broken through it only a day ago. He paused, feeling hopeful and yet horrified.

Opal sat back and took a deep, uneasy, breath.

“If you have everything here, I’ll get out of your way,” Kyrian said walking out the door.

“Uhh...yes, that’s fine, lad.”

Cameo’s eyelids fluttered.

Opal wasn’t certain if he had really seen what he thought he had seen. He set the sponge back into the basin.

“Cameo?”

Her eyes looked at him suddenly.

He nearly knocked over the basin and had to recapture it as it was sliding off the bed.

“I’m sorry....” Her voice was raspy, and barely audible.

“Oh no, no, no. I’m the one who is sorry.” He moved closer to her face. “I should never have picked a fight with your ... friend.”

She exhaled a breath of laughter, which was all she could muster. “He’s not...my friend.”

Opal smiled, “Yes, that was a joke.”

Cameo touched the left side of her head. It felt clumpy still, and Opal pulled her fingers free.

“It’s still healing,” he said softly.

She lifted her eyes to look over at the wall. “I must be in bad shape this time.”

He gave her a thoughtful look. “Your friend—that man—threw you into this wall. And by that I mean he literally threw you into the wall.”

She looked over at the wall, there was a large hole, large enough for a human body where the plaster was missing now, and the wall was down to bare boards, covered in blood. Cameo realized that was what Opal meant, that was why she was lying there on the moldy mattress now. She’d been thrown with such a force against the wall, by Haffef that her body had spent a full day repairing itself... at least a day... She wasn’t certain of the time now. She sighed, “Remember when you asked me about abandoning the job that my Master wanted me to do?”

“Yes?”

“Well, here you go,” she said. “I guess he was upset.”

He glanced down, remembering what that conversation actually consisted of. “I’ve been a terrible cad lately.”

She closed her eyes. “You smell good.”

“Well, that’s good, I suppose.”

“I have no idea why you’re still here.” She looked up at him.

“Oh, did you want me to go—”

“No. I mean, you saw what my Master was,” she said.

“A vampire.”

“Yes.”

“And Kyrian told us the rest,” Opal said.

“Did he?” Her eyes widened in alarm.

“But none of that matters—”

“It matters,” she rasped.

“None of it matters to me.”

“My negligence brought my Master here. I put you all in mortal danger.”

“Fine. I forgive you then,” he said.

“Opal,” her voice was hoarse. “I’m a vampire’s thrall....”

He kissed the scar on her cheek. “I don’t care.”

Cameo’s breath quickened.

“I thought he killed you,” he whispered desperately into her ear.

She set one of her hands on his back weakly, unsure if that was right thing to do. “Cyrus promised not to tell you what I was if I escorted Kyrian to his temple.”

He perked up.

“I didn’t want you to know.”

“Why?”

“I’m...grotesque. Anyhow, I can’t take him there now. I
have
to do what Haffef is telling me to do. The minute I can stand, I will be leaving. I won’t have a choice.”

“He’s a monster. And you are not grotesque,” he said.

She tried to touch her head again, but he stopped her.

“You don’t want to do that.”

“You’re sparing my feelings?” Cameo said, bewildered.

He smiled. “I’ll take Kyrian to the Temple of the Sun for you.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief, “You will?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure? I thought you hated him.”

“I do. I’m not doing it for him.”

Cameo melted into the mattress, exhausted, and watched him intently. He was wearing all of his dandy regalia, the black brocade jacket, his pistol, and rouge on his lips. His hair was so close, it mingled with her own.

“Thank you,” Cameo said almost imperceptibly.

He stared into her eyes, intensely, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. “It’s my pleasure.”

“I brought you something to eat—” Kyrian was suddenly in the room again.

“Well, then,” Opal said as he got to his feet in a flourish of ruffles and the jingle of his rapier. “I’ll talk to Bel.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Opal brushed past him without a second thought.

“Kyrian,” Cameo whispered and motioned for him to come over to her. “Do you have a mirror?”

“Uhh, yes. In my bag. I can go get it.”

She nodded and he sped to the steps, then turned around and gave her the food he was originally planning to give Opal, then ran off again.

* * * * *

“Are you insane?! I don’t want to go anywhere with her. She’s an undead for heaven’s sake!”

“Oh, come on now Bel. I can’t go. I have to take Kyrian to his temple. Certainly this is the sensible thing to do.”

Bel looked grimly at Opal. “Sensible? Your name and the word
sensible
don’t even know each other. They’ve never met!”

Opal rolled his eye.

“Aren’t even acquainted....” Bel rambled.

“Did I hear you say you were taking me to the Temple of the Sun now?” Kyrian said, walking down the flight of stairs.

“Yes, that’s right, and Bellamy will be going on ahead with Cameo—”

“No, I won’t.”

The dandy smiled serenely at Kyrian. “He’s just getting used to the idea.”

“I’ll be right back,” Kyrian said as he ran off.

“You haven’t talked to me in hours,” Bel said in a slightly more reasonable tone. “You know I still need a new set of clothes and a bath, badly I might add.”

“Well, I’m a bit repellent myself, but in another few hours on the road we will have a better opportunity to freshen up.”

“Hmm.... You seem very cheery. What did Cameo say to you?”

Opal opened his mouth a bit but wasn’t sure what he was going to say.

“You’re at a loss for words?” Bel said incredulously. “Now I am worried. You know she is a—”

The highwayman held up his hand. “I know.”

“You realize that if I go with her, I could encounter that vampire again. I’d rather not be the one who goes through the wall next time.”

“I’m just going to drop the lad off, and then I’ll catch up with you. How long could that take, a few hours or so?”

Bel sat down on one of the rickety stools and took a deep breath. “Well, what is this task her vampire friend wants her to do anyhow?”

“She has to steal something for him.”

“Steal something? That seems like a petty task. Why doesn’t this fellow just do it himself?”

Opal shrugged and sat down opposite Bel. “Perhaps he’s above for that sort of work?”

* * * * *

“I’m afraid it’s just a little hand mirror.”

Cameo took the item from Kyrian tentatively. There was dried blood on her bottom lip and a thin scar along her jaw where Opal had kissed her earlier. She tried to get a better look at her head, but the mirror really wasn’t large enough.

Her eyes met his unhappily. “How bad is it?”

“You’re missing some of your hair.”

“What?” Never had hair mattered so much in her life as it did now. She tried to see with the hand mirror again.

“It’s not that bad though, it’s only hair,” Kyrian said reassuringly.

Her eyes were dark.

“If he truly loves you, a little bit of missing hair won’t matter,” Kyrian said.

“Who said anything about that?”

“No one. I just thought ….”

She sighed and gave him back the mirror. “That libertine is probably the least of my worries at the moment.”

He stood and pulled his pack over one shoulder. “Well, I guess this is goodbye. Opal said he would take me to the temple.”

She nodded and watched him walk away

It was an hour or more that she remained lying in the moldy bed and then, while she lay dozing, there was an internal
crack
and she felt her spine tug in a slightly different direction. It was a weird, although not painful, feeling. Then she began to feel her legs again.

Cameo hastened to part her hair on the right in hopes of covering the exposed scalp on the left side of her face. She knew in a moment or two her body would propel her up and out of that bed and on her way back to Lockenwood. She wasn’t certain why exactly she bothered. She still looked like an undead. Everyone in the group knew she was undead.

She licked the drop of blood from her lip. Suddenly her legs straightened and she stood up. Her body wasn’t reacting as gracefully as she had been used to....

“Cameo?” Bel called weakly as she descended the stairs.

The sound on the steps was slow, loud,
thumps...
sort of a staggered gait. She came down the stairs stooped. She moved at an agonizingly slow but determined pace.

He met her eyes—the corpse-like eyes—and took several nervous steps back. She truly looked undead.

“Bel,” she rasped.

Now he could really see her for the zombie that she was. Broken, rasping, stumbling forward.... He wished he hadn’t promised Opal anything.

“I have to go.” She grabbed for her shoulder pack as she staggered out.

He looked about the empty building and followed her out into the street.

Chapter Six

O
PAL TWIRLED HIS RAPIER
at his side, as if it were a cane, and hummed a cheery little tune, much to the annoyance of the lad walking beside him.

“Can’t be too much farther,” Kyrian said.

“Why do you young men always say that?”

“I wonder.”

“Why not enjoy the stroll? It’s a lovely day,” Opal smiled.

Kyrian appraised the scenery for a few minutes, “Maybe you have more to be happy about than I do.”

Opal glanced over at him, smirking, then pointed at Kyrian’s well-worn boots with his rapier, “Well, you must be far more comfortable for this walk than I.”

The lad glanced down at his old, brown boots, then at the dazzlingly heeled boots that the dandy had on. “Wow,” he said, marveling at all the buckles and studs on the black leather. “You must be rich.”

“Ah, yes. Well, well, that looks like the temple over there, doesn’t it?”

Kyrian quickened his pace, coming up on the temple from around the back—away from the little town of Kings Basin. There was a trail of smoke in the sky that seemed to end at the roof of the sanctuary.

Opal followed Kyrian as he sped up.