Gathering of the Chosen (9 page)

By the dim light streaming through the
cracks of the curtains, Braim thought he saw that the assassin had
four arms. Two were in the regular spot where arms should go, while
the other two sprouted out of the assassin's shoulders. The
assassin had two swords, each one glowing with magical energy. The
assassin's eyes, however, were blank, which made it impossible to
tell what it was thinking or who it might have been.

“Four arms, but two swords?” said Braim,
chuckling despite the pain in his shoulder from where the assassin
had hit him. “Decided to go easy on me, eh? Or are you just too
poor to afford four?”

The assassin paused, as if Braim had just
made a good point, and then drew two more swords, similar to the
ones it already wielded, from somewhere behind it. The assassin
then combined the hilts of each sword pair, creating two
double-bladed lances that looked even deadlier than the assassin
itself. Then it drew out four more swords and created two more
double-bladed lances, effectively giving itself eight swords at
once.

“Damn it,” said Braim. “It was just a
joke. I know that most assassins don't have a great sense of humor,
but you didn't need to pull out
all
of your swords on little
old me.”

The assassin said nothing in response, but
whether that was because it could not speak or simply chose not to,
Braim didn't know. Nor was it very relevant, because that thing
could kill him all by itself whether it could speak or not.

Then it stepped backwards and vanished
instantly. It seemed to melt into the shadows, but that made no
sense, because Braim couldn't see anywhere it could have hidden
itself.

A second later, Braim heard the sound of
blades whistling through the air. He jumped forward, narrowly
avoiding getting his head chopped off. Then he looked over his
shoulder just in time to see the assassin's arm vanish back into
the shadows.

It can shadow travel?
Braim
thought.
What the hell? I didn't even know that was
possible.

Braim's thoughts were interrupted when the
door to his room burst open. Light from the outside hall streamed
in as Darek staggered inside, his wand at the ready, his head
whipping back and forth as he looked for the threat.

“Darek?” said Braim in surprise. “What are
you doing here?”

“Heard what sounded like fighting coming
from your room,” said Darek, panting as his eyes scanned the
shadows of the room. “Were you atta—”

Braim saw the assassin's blades appear
over Darek's head, causing him to shoot a burst of light from his
wand at them. The burst hit the blades and they vanished, while
Darek just looked up at the spot where the swords had been in
shock.

“What was that?” said Darek, looking at
Braim again.

“The assassin who's been trying to kill me
for the past three minutes or so,” Braim said. “He vanished into
the shadows. Don't know how he did that.”

“He must be an adherent of the Thief's
Way,” Darek said, snapping his fingers. “It's a magical path
usually studied by Hollechians, or was while Hollech was alive,
anyway. That must be what this guy is doing.”

“How do we stop him?” asked Braim.

“Watch,” said Darek.

He raised his wand, which immediately
became so bright that Braim had to raise his arm to avoid being
blinded. And the light became brighter still, until soon all of the
shadows in the room had been banished, allowing Braim to see every
corner of the room as clearly as on a bright summer afternoon.

This also revealed the assassin, who stood
near the window, standing still like it had been stunned by the
light itself. Without the shadows to distort its appearance, Braim
saw that the assassin was burlier than Darek and he combined. It
was clearly not human or even aquarian, though what it was exactly,
Braim didn't know, because it wore dark leather clothes that seemed
to absorb the light. Its feet, however, were clawed, like the feet
of a horian falcon.

The light also showed its eyes through its
eye holes. They were almost human, except for the lack of sclera,
making its eyes look completely black.

“There you are, you bastard,” said Braim,
holding up his wand to cast a spell. “Stand still long enough for
me to—”

Without warning, the assassin jumped
through the closed window of Braim's room. The sound of shattering
glass was the only sound that the assassin made as it escaped.

Alarmed, Braim and Darek ran up to the
smashed window. Braim tore aside what remained of the curtains to
try to catch a glimpse of the assassin as it fled.

But when he stuck his head outside the
window, Braim saw no sign of the assassin at all. He only spotted
the glass shards of the window on the ground outside, but of the
assassin itself there was no sign. All Braim saw was the empty
streets outside. It was like the assassin had never existed.

Braim looked at Darek with uncertainty.
“Uh, you saw the big, four-armed assassin carrying those
double-bladed lances, right? I'm not losing my mind or anything,
right?”

“I saw it,” said Darek, nodding, a
troubled look on his face. “I don't like this. I don't like this at
all. Who was that guy and why was he trying to kill you?”

“I don't know,” said Braim. “Until today,
I didn't even know that I
had
enemies.”

“Maybe he mistook you for someone else?”
said Darek.

Braim looked at Darek with disbelief.
“There are exactly four humans on this island, five if you count
Raya. And we all look completely different from one another. I
think it's pretty obvious that the assassin was after me.”

“But why you?” said Darek. “I'd understand
King Malock, seeing as he's the leader of one of the most powerful
nations in the entire Northern Isles, but what's so special about
you?”

Braim was about to state the obvious when
Jenur appeared in the doorway. Unlike Darek, she looked quite
tired, with her hair messed up and her robes haphazardly pulled
over her pajamas. She waved her wand hither and thither, like she
thought that the assassin was still here.

“What happened?” said Jenur, yawning as
she spoke. “I heard fighting. What's going on?” She then spotted
Braim's bleeding shoulder and gasped. “Braim, what happened to your
shoulder?”

Braim glanced at his wounded shoulder,
having entirely forgotten about it in the excitement of the moment
until just now. “Uh, I should explain to you guys what happened
from the beginning.”

So Braim briefly explained to Jenur and
Darek how the assassin appeared and tried to kill him, including
Darek's arrival that saved his life. Because the story was so
short, he was able to finish it quickly, and by the time he did,
Jenur was wide awake and looked quite worried.

“An assassination attempt in the Throne of
the Gods?” said Jenur. She shook her head. “I thought we were safe
here.”

“Guess we're not,” said Braim. “Or I'm
not, at least. Did either of you two hear anything unusual before
the assassin attacked me?”

“No,” said Darek, shaking his head. “In
fact, I was about to go to sleep before I heard the assassin
fighting you.”

“And I was already deeply sleeping during
the battle,” said Jenur. “That's why I didn't come right away. I
only awoke when I heard the assassin smash through the window.”

Braim looked at the smashed window and
frowned. “Do you think we'll have to pay for the window repair?
Because I'm broke as hell, so …”

Darek simply waved his wand at the window
and the glass shards flew back into place. In less than a second,
the window was good as new.

“I doubt it,” said Darek. “Anyway, I'm
still troubled by that assassin's attack. It leaves us with far
more questions than answers.”

Jenur nodded and then raised her wand and
pointed it at Braim's shoulder. “Braim, you should let me heal your
shoulder. Look at all of the blood leaking out. It's stained your
robes.”

Again, Braim looked at his shoulder, this
time watching as Jenur's healing spell closed up the wound until
the skin was whole once more. Though Braim could feel pain much
like anyone else, he didn't pay as much attention to it as most
people did, even if the injuries were serious like his shoulder. It
was probably due to the fact that he had lived a pain-free life as
a ghost, so most of the time he barely even noticed his injuries
unless they were too obvious to ignore or caused him an unusual
amount of pain.

“Thanks,” said Braim, looking at Jenur
again as she lowered her wand. “I'll wash my robes later. Right
now, I'm still confused about that assassin.”

“I think we should contact the others and
find out if they were attacked as well,” said Darek. “I'm
especially worried for the Carnagian Royal Family. They're a prime
target for any assassin.”

“I'll send a gray ghost to Mal later,”
said Jenur. “And one to Yorak as well, informing them both about
what happened. We should also see about contacting the gods and
letting them know that someone just tried to kill Braim.”

“I think it was a katabans,” said Braim.
“It didn't look like a human or an aquarian to me, and it probably
wasn't a god, either, otherwise it would have killed Darek and me
without even thinking. Someone must have hired it.”

“Probably a god, I bet,” said Darek. “I
mean, I don't want to accuse the gods of evildoing, but the
katabans only listen to the gods. That means that there is a god
out there who wants you dead.”

“Again?” said Braim. “But I just came back
to life. I'd like to tell that god to wait at least a year before
trying to take my life. They're just jumping the gun now.”

“That doesn't explain why any god would
want to kill Braim,” said Jenur, brushing some of her messy curly
hair back. “He hasn't done anything to anger the gods. Right,
Braim?”

“Yeah,” said Braim. “Of course, it's
possible that I could have done something to piss this god off in
my first life. Maybe he's trying to get revenge for the time I
stole his girlfriend or something.”

“The gods may be petty at times, but they
aren't
that
petty,” said Jenur. Her shoulders slumped.
“Unfortunately, I don't know how to find out who did it. But I will
contact Mal and Yorak as soon as I can and see if they might know
anything about this.”

“Good idea,” said Braim. He glanced at his
open closet. “But I'm a little afraid of going to sleep again,
because I have a feeling that that assassin is not the kind of guy
to give up easily.”

“I doubt he'll return,” said Jenur. “Now
that we know he's trying to kill you, he's lost the element of
surprise. Doesn't mean he's not going to try again. It just means
that he's not going to try again any time soon.”

“You're probably right,” said Braim.
“Well, you two can go back to your rooms now. I'll wash out the
blood from my robes and—”

“Braim Kotogs?” said a voice from the
doorway, causing all three of them to turn and see who had
spoken.

Standing in the open doorway to Braim's
room was a short man with blue, spiky hair. He had said Braim's
name with an odd accent, in which he slightly slurred the last
syllable of 'Kotogs.' That meant that the man was some kind of
katabans, though Braim had never seen this particular katabans
before.

The katabans looked quite surprised to see
all three of them there, so surprised that he seemed to have
forgotten what he had come here to tell them. That was when Braim
noticed a letter that he clutched in his left hand.

“Hey, is that letter for me?” said Braim,
pointing at the letter that the katabans held.

The katabans looked at Braim. His eyes
focused on the dried blood on Braim's shoulder with horror before
he looked at Braim's face, nodded, and said, in that same odd
accent from before, “Yes sir. Letter for you. From Alira.”

The katabans threw the letter toward
Braim. It glided through the air toward him, allowing Braim to
catch it without any difficulty. Frowning, he looked down at the
letter's envelope, upon which the word
Invitation
was
written in a neat, curly script.

“Thanks,” said Braim, looking back up at
the messenger. “Tell Alira I—”

But the katabans was gone before Braim
could finish his sentence. He looked at Jenur and Darek. “Where'd
he go?”

“No idea,” said Darek, shaking his head.
“He left faster than I could follow. Think he must be scared of
humans or something.”

“What's he got to be scared of?” said
Braim. “Just because you guys are two of the most powerful mages in
the world doesn't mean you're scary.”

“Just open the letter and see what Alira
has to say,” said Jenur. “I'm interested in what she's
written.”

Braim nodded and slit the envelope open
with his wand's tip. He then pulled out a folded letter, which he
unfolded as quickly as he could.

Reading was another difficult thing for
Braim to do ever since he returned, mostly because as a ghost he
had never had to do much reading. He could read individual letters
just fine, but his mind sometimes had a hard time comprehending
full sentences and paragraphs, even after taking several reading
lessons from Darek over the past two months. It was probably a side
effect of the resurrection process, though that didn't make it any
less embarrassing whenever he had to read something aloud to
someone else.

But this letter was not very long. It was
a single paragraph, which Braim read quickly. And he found its
message shocking. In fact, he was so shocked by this message that
he wasn't sure if he had read it correctly.

So Braim handed the letter to Darek,
saying, “Can you read this for me? I think I know what it's saying,
but I'm not sure. It seems to me like it must be a mistake.”

Darek took the letter and held it under
the city lights streaming through the window. He then read the
letter aloud: