FROM THE JOURNAL OF RUBY

“There you are!” the man said, pretending he knew me and feigning joviality.

I was at a corner table in the Golden Stag tavern, drinking some horrid brandy.

He sat down across from me and the false joviality disappeared. “No names,” he said quietly.

“I do not have much time,” I said. “If I am not back soon, it could raise suspicion.”

I had slipped out a side door of Leonis’s shop to come and meet with this man. A member of the Black Hand.

“You have a desire to join our organization?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Power.”

“You are a student in Sanctuary. Does our group not conflict with whatever superstitions and beliefs you people hold?”

“I do not know. I know that I find many of ‘my people’s’ beliefs ridiculous and outdated. They are not brothers and sisters to me.”

“If you join our ranks, the Hand comes first. Always.”

“I understand.”

“Over all else. Even family.”

“Of course.”

“To join us, you must be vouched for by a member. That has been done. Second, you must be tested. If you pass, you move on to the final step. If you fail, you die. Do you wish to continue? This is your last chance to walk away and pretend you never heard of us.”

“I wish to continue.”

“Most people ask what the test is before they agree. You are too eager.”

“My mind is made up.”

“Very well. If you pass the test, you must then be approved by the man himself. The man we follow. Do you understand who I refer to?”

“Yes.”

“You will wait for that to happen. He will come to you, when he deems it the proper time.”

“I understand. Tell me what I must do to pass your test.”

“You must kill someone.”

“Do I choose who I get to kill?”

“No. He has already been chosen for you. His name is Enoch Frong. He lives in the city, in the market district. He is easy enough to find. Within three days, he must die, directly by your hand. You may choose the method, but you may not ask another to do it for you. By your hand.”

“What did he do?”

“Why does that matter?”

“Forgive me. I was curious.”

“Three days. My advice? Do it right away. Best not to spend a lot of time thinking about it.” The man drained his brandy, stood and left.

“Good morn, Sister,” the man bowed. He was in his middle years, balding, his remaining hair reddish brown and slightly askew, stray wisps remaining on the top of his head. He had a pleasant, open face. I tried to tell myself that looks could be deceiving.

He said, “It is rare that a person of the Guild visits my humble shop. I am quite honored.”

“It is my honor, sir,” I said. “Tell me, do you sell anything else besides wine?”

“No, sister. I am sorry. I have heard members of the Guild do not imbibe. I know of a seller who has wine that contains no spirits, if that is what you seek. I can direct you to his shop, if you like.”

“Thank you, but no. I actually am here to inquire if you wish to make a purchase. My cousin has a vineyard in Mukan. He is quite proud of his product – will not stop talking about it, in truth. He has long wanted to introduce it to the capitol city, and I agreed to make inquiries on his behalf.”

“Excellent. Of course I would be happy to make a purchase if the wine is of good quality. Could you bring me a sample?”

“I have one right here.” I handed him a flask I had taken from Leonis.

He took it and sipped. I watched as he swallowed.

“This is excellent!” he declared. “Similar to a vintage here that sells for top coin! You can tell your cousin that I am interested.”

“He has a white wine as well. I can bring a sample of that if you like.”

“Certainly! If it is as good as this, I would be happy to purchase large quantities of both! You have made my day, Sister!”

“I can not leave Sanctuary until Hanging Day,” I said. “Will you be open for business then?”

“Yes! I never attend the hangings. Business is slow during the hangings themselves, but picks up considerably after.”

“Your name, sir? I am Ruby.”

“I am Enoch Frong,” he said with another bow.

“I shall return in two days with a sample. Good day, sir.”

I left the man’s shop, my heart heavier than it had ever been. Heavier than when I had learned of Bastile’s death. Heavier, perhaps, than when I had realized, years ago, that my father would never return home.

It was absurd how easy it would be to kill this man. But I did not know if I could do it. My choice was to murder him or face my own inevitable death, in which case my people might never find the location of Moroso.

I made my way to Leonis’s shop. Shortly after, I went back to Sanctuary with a flask full of poisoned wine.

The morning of Hanging Day came all too soon. I remember little of the morning routine, breakfast in the dining hall. I scarcely recall stepping out into the brilliant sunshine, the morning already warm, walking among the other students toward the gallows. The flask was in the pocket of my robe, heavy.

I would attend the hangings, exchange messages with my contact, and visit Frong’s shop on my way back to Sanctuary. The poison would act slowly enough that I would be at work in the chambers when the effects began. His death would appear natural, his heart stopping, as sometimes happens with men of his age.

Only two men hanged today. The Empress spared the final three. This was nearly unprecedented. The crowd turned from bloodthirsty to jovial and festive, celebrating the wonderful generosity of Her Excellency on this glorious, fine day.

I almost did not feel the exchange when it occurred, the note leaving my left hand and being replaced by another.

I made my way toward Frong’s shop, heart hammering in my chest, legs wobbly and weak.

Frong stood outside his shop door, greeting people as they passed. Not pressing them for business but merely being friendly.

“Sister!” he called, waving to me. “Did you bring me that sample of your cousin’s excellent wine?”

I approached him.

“Are you all right, sister?”

“Yes. It was the hangings. I fear they unsettled me.”

“Come inside! Sit down for a moment. That is precisely why I never attend those things. Dreadful to witness really.”

Inside his cool shop, I sat in a worn, comfortable chair.

“Sit here a moment and gather yourself,” Frong told me. “I will be back in just a moment.”

Alone, I unfolded the note that was in my hand.

M found.

Good work. Mission Complete. Prepare for extract.

Be on Lucky Elisa tomorrow at dawn.

“I am sorry, Master Frong,” I said, when the merchant returned. “I forgot to bring the sample.”

“That’s all right my dear. Sister, please, it is all right! Please stop crying! You can bring it another day. You must not cry!”