Cameo the Assassin (9 page)

Opal stood hastily and bowed with a flourish, “Black Opal.”

The priest winced. This could only mean that she was the notorious Cameo, and he had just placed Kyrian in her clutches.

She looked up at him, knowingly, and took a swig from her flask. “Long walk to Kings Basin. If Kyrian isn’t up to it—”

“No, no, I believe the lad to be very safe with you as his bodyguard.”

Opal resumed his seat.

“He will be safe,” Cameo stated pushing away her dinner plate and moving toward the wash basin that was set up in the meditation room.

Opal rearranged the silverware that she had just been using, muttering something to himself.

“Will you be going to Kings Basin, as well?” asked Cyrus.

“Of course,” he grinned. “Isn’t that a silly question? I am the man who brought her here for help.” Opal stood up and smoothed his black duster, “Or have you forgotten?”

Before Cyrus could respond, Kyrian re-entered, dressed in his traveling clothes, and the priest turned his interest toward the lad.

“Ready to go, Opal?” Cameo asked as she brushed past him, her hair still wet and her skin smelling a bit like lye.

Kyrian stood outside. He had a linen shirt and pants, a brown wool coat, and a pair of boots covered in red clay.

“Oh, I’d always wondered just who went into the priesthood,” Opal remarked.

Kyrian pulled his hair from the knot it had been in and let it hang loose about his shoulders.

The night was bright and cold, and Cameo regretted having wet hair.

“How far is Kings Basin from here, anyhow?”

“About fifteen, twenty miles, I think. It’s on the other side of the canal,” the assassin said, stepping up her pace to get warm.

Opal found himself suddenly jogging to keep up with her. “Are you still wearing that ripped old thing? You can wear one of my shirts, or that lovely brocade jacket if you’re cold.”

She smiled, flattered at the idea, “Which brocade jacket?”

“Ah, yes, well,” he rifled through his pack for a moment without taking it off.

Kyrian was only a step behind them, but only Cameo realized this. He was extremely stealthy for an acolyte.

The first few flakes of snow fluttered to the ground. The moon lit their path, and the snow seemed to fall straight into Opal’s shoulder pack and Cameo’s wet hair.

“Winter finally got here.”

“Apparently.”

“Ah, well, if nothing else it is rather lovely,” Opal said. “Like half of my traveling companions.”

Kyrian smirked.

“So lad, why is it that you needed protecting so badly? Couldn’t you have walked to Kings Basin alone? You are what, seventeen?”

“Cyrus is my grandfather.”

Opal looked turned around to see if Kyrian was being serious. “You’re making me feel old...or perhaps a bit jaded.”

Cameo brushed her hair from her face and drank down a swig of whiskey. “I’m going to lay odds you aren’t seventeen then.”

The lad shrugged, “Fifteen.”

“No wonder I feel old; I’m talking to a boy.” Opal turned away and continued his search for a jacket.

Kyrian glanced at his feet.

“I’d be happy to be fifteen again, unburdened, innocuous...my whole life in front of me. I wouldn’t have joined the priesthood, but that’s just me.” Opal said, “Obviously your grandfather waited a few years.”

Kyrian folded his arms, “Obviously.”

Black Opal set down his pack and ripped off his duster, “Why don’t you wear this?”

Cameo capped her flask slowly, looking at the coat being proffered. “But it’s your only coat.”

“Oh, well, you’re the one with wet hair and a ripped shirt.”

She glanced down at the torn spot.

“Can’t have a lady walking around in the snow like that.”

Kyrian rolled his eyes.

She clasped it tentatively, “Won’t you be cold?”

“Oh, no, it’s just a bit brisk.” He twirled the black duster around her back, “Let’s put this right on you.” Opal slid the coat over her shoulders.

Cameo felt his warmth in the duster immediately. If he, for one second, realized she was not fully alive, he wouldn’t want to share his duster with her at all. If he knew she was covered in scars.... She soaked up his warmth, feeling rather ashamed that he had no idea that she was some sort of ghoul, and also that he would be much more likely to catch a cold than she would, and therefore, he needed the coat more than she actually did. For a moment she felt like something other than a monster.

Her eyes met Kyrian’s. If he wanted to, all he had to do to end this was open his mouth and mention that he hadn’t healed her. The lad just turned away in disgust.

“There now,” he moved around to appraise the ensemble. “You look just...delightful,” he bit his red lip and smoothed the lapels beneath his gloved fingers.

She glanced up at the one hazel eye gazing into her eyes, “That’s very kind.”

“Think nothing of it. I feel surprisingly warm without it.”

“I see....”

“Yes....” His gaze moved from her eyes to her mouth as he leaned in—

There was a sudden noise, and the trees behind the fop parted.

Opal spun around—

Bellamy was standing there with a sword at his throat.

Cameo hadn’t even seen the blade leave it’s sheath.

Bellamy, who looked a complete wreck, grinned. “Hello, Opal.”

“Bel!” Opal lowered his rapier. “Dear boy, I knew you would change your mind.”

The dark-haired highwayman brushed away the sweat and pine needles from his face. “Hello, Cameo.”

She lifted her flask in his direction.

“Yes, thank you.”

Opal sheathed his sword as Bel slid to the wet ground.

Kyrian gathered in closer to the group now ...closer to Opal.

“What are you two doing here? I thought you were going south.”

“Yes, I believe that was the original plan,” Cameo offered rather dispassionately. Her eyes met Opal’s for a moment, and she knew that he must be thinking of the task she was supposed to be completing for Haffef. The one she had forgone to take Kyrian to safety and hide her identity from Opal.

The snow had begun to fall harder. It was sticking to the ground and in Bellamy’s long, dark hair. He gulped down the contents of her flask, which trembled slightly in his grasp.

“How ever did you find us, dear fellow?”

“Only pure luck. Charlotte and I fled from the tavern, where some madman was killing everyone. Apparently some Association person—” he glanced up at Cameo. “I actually think he was after me! Called me by name and everything.”

“Truly?” Opal smirked.

Cameo immediately thought of the wanted posters they had run across two days ago.

“I have been running for a full day, I think,” he said, handing the flask back to Cameo. “Forgive me, but I’ve finished it.”

She slid it into her shoulder pack neutrally.

“I think the man is following me—”

“Oh?”

“Really?!” Kyrian piped up.

Bel glanced over at the lad, then looked at Opal, a question forming on his lips.

“I’ve never seen a real assassin before. Do you think we’ll see him?”

Cameo turned around to face Kyrian, astonished. He had no idea who she was. “Yes, Bel...what did he look like?”

“I honestly couldn’t tell you. I only saw the outline of his body in the window when I was running away. He was really quite insane.” Bellamy rested his head in his hand for a moment.

“Where is Charlotte?”

“Yes, where is your lady love?” Opal said.

Bellamy raised an eyebrow, “Lady love? Hardly.” Opal grasped one hand and helped him to his feet. “About as much as Lorraine means to you.”

“A fine lady,” Opal smiled, rearranging the feathers in his hat.

Bel took a couple steps onto their path, “Yes, well. Northwest? How did you ever get yourselves so turned around? South,” he pointed, “is clearly that way.”

“Yes, yes, thank you, professor,” Cameo said, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

The four of them continued on the path toward the Avon Canal.

“Well, Charlotte didn’t want to leave Yetta. We did run quite a long way, but she didn’t want to go through the graveyard. I think she might have gone back to that tavern. It was her home, and all of her things were there.”

Cameo appraised him: he had the clothes on his back and a pistol butt sticking out of his trousers. He was bathed in his own sweat and was probably a bit chilly. “Did you leave your things behind?”

“Bellamy?” Opal laughed. “Never. That lad always has a pouch full of cash.”

“Well, no,” Bel’s voice sounded a bit strained. “I accidentally left that behind. You must understand, I was being chased by a trained assassin.”

Black Opal looked over the meager items of clothing he had managed to wear out of the inn. “That’s such a pity.”

Bel’s expression darkened. “We’ll just have to hold up some coaches, that’s all.”

“Ah, yes, there’s the old Bellamy I remember.” Opal laughed and slid one arm around his shoulder. “We can all rob coaches together. The
three
of us.”

Kyrian perked up.

“Yes, that’s wonderful, just wonderful, old chum,” Bel sighed.

“And to think that you wanted to move to Shandow and settle down,” Opal grinned. “Well, that insanity has passed now, thank heavens!”

“Ah, yes, isn’t there a tavern around here somewhere?”

* * * * *

After a few hours of walking, Cameo rested a few feet off the road, away from the remainder of the party. She did have a gulp of wine left, and she planned to send it down her gullet where she wouldn’t be disturbed. She watched the sunrise; they were nearly at the canalside.

“Drinking alone?” Opal walked over to her.

She tossed the bottle into the woods—empty—and slid down out of the crotch of the tree that she had braced herself in. “That’s the end of it, I’m afraid.”

“There is a tavern up ahead. We could stop and pick up a few supplies.”

“Yes, and let that assassin catch up to us.”

Opal leaned up against the tree, “My feet are killing me.”

She glanced down at the heeled boots that he was wearing. “Bad choice.”

“Uh huh.” He ate a couple bites of a bruised apple. “That assassin will catch up with us eventually anyhow.”

“I realize that. I was just thinking that getting Kyrian killed by an assassin won’t really fulfill my contract. We should just pass by the tavern and take the boat over to Kings Basin, then come back and pick up supplies.”

Opal flung the remains of his apple over his shoulder and studied Cameo’s profile. “He’s a fresh-faced lad that Kyrian.”

She raised an eyebrow as she turned to look at the dandy standing there. “He doesn’t deserve to die by an assassin’s hand because we’re wanted criminals; his appearance has little to do with that.”

Opal slid over and whispered, “Look, I hate to bring this up, but isn’t your
master
going to be a bit upset that you’ve completely forsaken the mission he wanted you to complete for this
Kyrian
one?”

She looked over at the lad in the distance talking to Bellamy. “That has crossed my mind.”

“I simply don’t understand why you are so intent in taking this stupid boy to some temple when prior to all this you told me you
had
to do as your master asked. Just when did all that stop being true?”

“It’s still true,” she said, absently wishing that there was more alcohol in her pack.

Opal traced the newest scar on his face and watched her as she rummaged through her bag, then added, “It doesn’t seem true.”

She looked up at him.

He had his chin in the air.

“This Kyrian mission has more to do with the reward that I was promised than little Kyrian himself, and why does that matter, anyhow? Are you worried about your cut of the loot?”

“Certainly not,” he lowered his voice and his chin.

“You aren’t interested in your cut of the loot? I’m surprised—”

“I didn’t even know I was getting a cut,” Opal said.

She pulled her pack over her shoulder, noticed the extra long sleeves of the duster, then lifted her eyes to find Opal a step away from her.

“Oh, your coat—”

“Keep it,” he said.

“No, no. I don’t need it.”

“Neither do I. I can obtain another.”

“Well, I guess it’s just getting left behind then.” Cameo took one step back.

Opal took one step closer.

“Look, Opal, I want to thank you for helping me back there in the graveyard.” She let her pack fall to the ground and slid off the duster gracefully. “No one has ever been quite so kind to me before.”

He looked at the coat being handed back to him, then up at her face again. She was staring at him.

Opal touched the left side of his face, trying to cover the smallpox scars. He took back the duster and slid the coat on, savoring her warmth.

Cameo gathered up her pack again. “Well, it would be advantageous to get dinner and some supplies. I’d wager Bellamy’s exhausted. Maybe that tavern isn’t a bad idea.”

Black Opal glanced into his hand-mirror as soon as she moved back onto the path.

“You look fine.”

Opal met Bel’s smile. The taller scoundrel looked pretty bad himself: his long, dark hair was stringy and tangled.

“You are going to the tavern with us aren’t you?” He motioned to Cameo and Kyrian who were already pulling away from them. “I need a change of clothes badly.”

“I know,” Opal said.

Bel laughed, “That dire ‘hmm’?”

“And I need a drink. A strong drink.”

“I know.”

* * * * *

Cameo peered over the amber bottle in front of her. Opal was sitting across from her, Bel and Kyrian to either side. She took in the smoky interior of the tavern, which was dark wood, polished with every ale that had spilled since the place had opened. The floor was littered with broken clay pipes, and the once-white ceiling was stained brown by smoke. It was midday, but the din within the tavern was surprisingly loud.

“Here you are,” the innkeeper said as he set four bowls of stew down for them. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Another glass,” Opal said, hefting the third glass of rum he had guzzled down.

The innkeeper seemed a bit taken aback at the speed with which Opal had polished off the last three but didn’t question it.