I listened to Koyl rant and talk for a while longer before going back to my room to rest. It seemed that he was just too anxious to be able to come up with any sort of plan of action. He acts so confident otherwise, I thought, it's strange to see him panic like that. Maybe he was just putting up a front. I stayed up a bit later than I usually did, practicing the force magic that I had recently figured out. I don't know if I can make a gestural shortcut for this, I noted, the workings are too complex for that kind of thing. With heat it was simple, but with this it needs two different points counterbalanced against each other and even then it sometimes fails to work.

From what I managed to figure out, force magic created a sort of “imaginary” lever arm between two objects to which force could be applied rotationally. With great effort, the arm could have its shape altered while moving to create the illusion of straight movement, but aside from that I couldn't figure out much else about it. I can see how this would lend itself well to augmenting body movements, I thought while I moved my finger with the technique. It was much easier to create the lever arms inside myself and move them as I moved my muscles than it was to create them outside myself. One thing is strange though, I thought, the imaginary lever arms can extend past my range, but they don't draw any additional power if they do so long as both endpoints are inside it. I suppose my visualization must not be completely accurate to the produced phenomenon.

I had no dreams, and in the morning I got up and did my usual routine, not running into Koyl at all. After I finished my breakfast and still hadn't seen him, I went back upstairs and knocked on his door. A series of bangs and thumps followed before a ragged-looking Koyl opened the door and peered out at me.

“Is it morning?” he asked groggily.

“Yes,” I replied. Koyl rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Did you sleep?” I asked. It wasn't so much concern for his well-being as wanting to know if I could productively interact with him that prompted the question.

“I think so,” Koyl said, “I'll be down in a minute.” The door closed and I went back into the dining room, sitting in my spot and waiting. Yehpweyl looked at me blankly from behind the bar, then went back to observing the others in the room with her normal fake smile. Out of curiosity, I tried to use force magic on the table, managing to shift it slightly before Koyl clambered down the stairs holding the stolen dueling sword he had stashed somewhere in his room. He waved to Yehpweyl, then sat at the table in front of me.

“I thought you said that weapon needed to be hidden,” I said, gesturing to the sword which he had laid across the table.

“They already know I stole it,” Koyl sighed, “I might as well just fence it for cash and buy something else. It’s a fake, but it’s a good fake. We need money and a plan to kill Yaavtey, nothing got accomplished last night.” Yehpweyl came over and put a mug of water and some bread in front of Koyl, then rubbed his shoulder.

“Is something wrong?” she asked. Koyl grimaced and sipped the mug.

“Long night,” he replied. Yehpweyl's face flashed frustration for an instant but Koyl didn't see it, then she smiled gently. There's really only one thing it would make sense for her to be frustrated about, I thought.

“You just let me know if there's anything I can do, okay?” she suggested. “My cook ran away last night, so if you need some money I’m looking for a good man.” Koyl grunted in the affirmative and began eating the bread voraciously, and Yehpweyl walked away.

“You do know she's probably the one who gave information about us to the Steelheart Company, right?” I asked him quietly. Koyl stopped eating for a moment, then resumed. “Don't tell her anything about this if you can avoid it,” I advised.

After Koyl ate and washed himself up, we went out to the black market we had visited before and Koyl found a fence for the sword. On the way, he mentioned that he would be giving it to one of the ones that typically returned items for a fee to wealthy people because selling it to another one might “get him into more trouble now that they know.” After about half an hour of haggling, Koyl emerged with some money, and then we set off to the Steelheart Company. Dawpvaol was swamped with workers so she just gave us our prepayment and we left quickly.

“Maybe we should just run,” Koyl suggested once we were back out in the street, “we could split up and find work elsewhere.”

“What is wrong with you?” I asked.

“What?” Koyl snapped.

“You're acting very different,” I said, “I understand that you're anxious, but this is ridiculous. You had the nerve to attack someone like me for money, but you're too afraid to try to assassinate one man who doesn't even know you're coming for him? How does that make sense?”

“Did you not see the people in that guild hall?” Koyl asked. “Every single one of them looked like the kind of person who would gut their own child and not even flinch. We're being forced to make an enemy of an organization filled to the brim with murderers.”

“How is that different from Steelheart?” I asked back. “They are also a mercenary company. Most people who do anything beyond basic work for them have likely ended at least one human life. Morality aside, I see no difference aside from the fact that Steelheart is a larger, and thus more dangerous organization.” Koyl gaped at me for a minute.

“The difference is that Steelheart would have us arrested if we acted against them, or at least they would try and only kill us if they had to,” he explained condescendingly. “The Hatchet Crew would take glee in torturing us to death slowly, that's what waits for us if we manage to kill Yaavtey.”

“Why do you assume they will know it was us?” I asked. Once again Koyl looked at me strangely. “If we assassinate him correctly, they will only have circumstantial evidence that it was either of us,” I elaborated.

“They don't need evidence,” Koyl protested, “they'll know it was us because he died a few days after he met us.”

“Not if we do it correctly,” I replied. In my mind, I began to think in ways that I was not accustomed to. My lack of planning ability was my biggest weakness and I knew it. I had always been given orders and intelligence, even advice when it was necessary. Despite my technical competence at carrying out assassination plans I was never the one to make them. I knew how to come up with escape routes on the fly, improvise if necessary, but the overarching plan was not something I had concerned myself with. Until today, I thought.

“What do you mean?” Koyl asked.

“We need to go back to the area near the guild hall,” I said. “For this to work I need to know how Yaavtey moves around.” Koyl looked less than enthusiastic but followed behind me as I lead us over to the ruins of the east Steelheart outpost.

“What can we possibly learn from up here?” Koyl asked. Both of us had been sitting on a rooftop across from the Hatchet Crew's guild hall for over an hour, not seeing or doing much. I had a suspicion that the guards knew we were observing, but they hadn't shown any outward signs of it. Even the incognito guards, of which there were now five, didn't look in our direction.

The number of people going in and out of the building was lower than I thought, and the lack of windows made it difficult to estimate just how many people were inside. It's more like a fortress than a guild hall, I thought, there's only one way in and zero visibility. Even without firearms, they could turn the ground floor into a kill box with ease. Eventually, the moment I was waiting for came, and Yaavtey walked out into the street, looking around and stretching his arms.

“Just going for lunch, boys,” he told the halberdier guards, “don't let things get too rowdy while I'm gone.” I nudged Koyl to get his attention, then gestured for us to begin moving to the house to our left in order to follow Yaavtey. Thankfully the slum houses were usually very close to one another so jumping between the roofs was easy. Yaavtey strode through the streets confidently, with most people parting in front of him. They know him, I noted, which means that if we kill him in the streets there will definitely be people who take note of us.

After getting lunch at a stall selling skewers of some kind, Yaavtey returned to the guild hall and disappeared. I waited another hour for something to happen while Koyl got progressively more bored, but outside of a small amount of foot traffic in and out of the hall thing of importance occurred.

“Alright,” Koyl finally said, “I'm going to go buy a new weapon with this money. I'll come back here once I'm done, but if you're gone when I do we'll meet up tonight at the inn.”

“Okay,” I nodded, and Koyl started to climb down from the house into the back alley. “Get a crossbow,” I added. Koyl stopped and peeked back up at me.

“Why?” he asked.

“A number of reasons,” I said, “all of which I can explain when I figure out what the plan is. We'll need it.”

“How do you know we'll need it if you haven't made a plan?” Koyl asked. Because I have more experience doing assassination with ranged weaponry than you have at breathing, I thought.

“Just get it,” I said, “I'll pay you back for it if it turns out it wasn't useful.” I knew Koyl shrugged even though all I could see was the top half of his face, then he disappeared down the side of the building. I went back to my stakeout, lowering my breathing and movement to conserve energy. I wonder where the blue energy comes from, I mused while watching the two front guards have an inaudible conversation, does my body produce it, or is it merely absorbing and storing it?

Koyl didn't come back, which I assumed meant that he either got distracted or simply didn't want to return to the boring work I was doing. The sun went down, and my stomach began to feel extremely empty. Finally, Yaavtey emerged from the guild hall again, jabbering to a woman who I didn't recognize before setting off in the same direction as he had headed for the food stall. I followed alongside him, keeping my footsteps as quiet as possible and observing him at a shallow angle over the edge of the room to minimize the chances I would be spotted.

Two blocks away, Yaavtey entered a brick house. I waited for another half hour before climbing down and approaching it to make sure that he wasn't going to come out. Technically he could have emerged at any moment, but my suspicion was that the house was Yaavtey's home and therefore he would remain inside for some time. I walked up and down the street in front of the house, peering in through the open window to try to get a read on the situation inside. While I couldn't see Yaavtey, I did see a woman and another man. He might be an adolescent, I realized, something about his face looks too neotenous to be completely mature.

“What are you doin' here?” came a voice from beside me on my fourteenth pass by the house. An average-sized man with hatchets and a black cloak had appeared from nowhere, and was eyeing me suspiciously.

“Just walking,” I replied, and I pushed past him.

“You keep walkin,” the man said behind me, “and don't walk past here again.” I kept walking, focusing my ears on the sounds of the man, but ended up moving out of earshot before I could tell if he reported the incident to anyone or not.