“I don’t know how many he’ll have with him,” said Keris, sounding slightly dead inside.

“Hey, that’s a great start,” said Len sarcastically. “You don’t know anything. Wanna try again but give me something to work with this time? I remind you: if I die here, you’re probably dying too.”

“What do you want me to say?” Keris snapped, a touch of fire returning. “It’s not like he gives me clearly written plans of exactly how he wants things to work out. I was supposed to lead you there this morning. When that failed, he had some Banes show up to wait for your return. When you didn’t get back in time, they got bored and left, so now we’re back to this. I don’t know the details.”

“You can’t be this stupid, Kerry. You just can’t. You’ve talked with him several times by now, he has to have given you something that you noticed. You expect me to believe that you’re so oblivious that you’re just going along with it all?”

“I thought he was going to help me save my family,” Keris snarled. “I’d do anything for them. I didn’t NEED to hear his specifics beyond that.”

“Oh, right. He was going to save your ass, and that’s all that mattered. Everyone else be damned? Don’t get me wrong, I believe that you’re capable of that, but I don’t think that’s everything. Tell me about your meetings with him.”

“Most of the time, he’d just leave me a note with a time and a place. I’d go there, explain what my husband has been up to, and get advice on what to do next.”

“Well that’s a whole mess of useless. The meetings. Were there ever any others there with him? Hell, what does he look like? I swear to god, if you don’t give me something, I’m just going to march back to your husband, tell him everything, and leave you out to dry.”

What Len wasn’t saying about all this was that she was stalling. She kept scanning the crowd for any familiar faces, some indication that Balar had gotten her message. She was technically prepared to deal with this problem on her own, disastrous as that might end up being, but she much preferred the idea of some backup. Keris didn’t need to know that.

“I… yes, I did see him with someone else once, a woman, I think. She slipped away when I showed up, but I still caught sight of her.”

“Great… a woman. Why did she stand out so much?”

“It was the way she moved. Almost like a dancer, it was striking.”

Len bit back the retort at how useless that information was. Granted, she hadn’t seen a lot of dancers in these parts, and it was a somewhat interesting data point, but it mostly mattered in that it was another body. If it meant anything at all, it meant that they could expect more of an assassin’s approach here than an outright back alley butchering. Not a lot to go on, but still something.

Just then, she saw something that inspired both hope and rage in her. It was Keseryn! Still clad in that bodyguard outfit that she’d been given. This time, though, she was flanked by another person that Len didn’t recognize, but wearing the same outfit. Keris was oblivious and continued to blather away, bouncing between snapping at Len’s lack of respect and blubbering at how unfair this whole situation was. Eventually, Len had had enough.

“You know what? I’m tired of this,” she said. “Let’s just get this over with. How far away are we?”

“Not far, it’s just this way,” said Keris sullenly.

“Then by all means, let’s go meet our maker.”

Keris didn’t seem thrilled by the prospect, but led the way all the same. It took about five minutes to be led to the darker corner of the town, with more dilapidated housesleds on display. Adopting the persona she supposed was expected of her here, Len put on a confused and slightly nervous face.

“Are you sure this is the place? Looks a bit run down to be a tailor’s shop.”

“It’s fine,” said Keris, surprisingly not missing a beat. “Trust me, some of the best work I’ve ever had done has been done here. Just get inside.”

Len maintained the cautious worry, but gingerly opened the door. To her genuine surprise, the place actually WAS a tailor’s shop, with multiple rather elegant gowns on display. Keris too, seemed mildly surprised, and took time to look around. The gowns were impressive enough to catch Len’s eye, but she was careful not to get so curious about them that she took her eyes off the surroundings. There were any number of darkened corners in here that danger could come from and even if she did have some backup on the way, it wouldn’t do her any good if she got strangled before they showed up. They rang a bell for service, and shortly a lithe woman with her hair pinned up in a neat bun and wearing a simple two-piece suit that made her look like a butler appeared from the back.

“Ah, Miss Keris,” the woman said pleasantly, “we’ve been expecting you.”

“Er, yes… of course,” said Keris, slightly at a loss.

“Now then, Miss… Lenore, was it?” There was a clinical tone to the woman’s speech that suggested that she was looking for specificity, not looking to offer insult.

“Yeah, that’s me,” said Len with a shrug.

It happened almost too fast for Len to react. The very instant she’d acknowledged who she was, the woman slipped a hand into her suit and hurled a playing-card-sized blade at Len’s throat. She’d been expecting something, but it was still startling, and it caused her to break one of the rules she’d set for herself almost immediately.

A cane of pure shadow sprang into her hands just in time to catch the blade before it struck home, leaving the other two women slightly startled. With a flick of her wrist, Len sent the card hurtling into a dress form to the side and lashed forward, striking the woman across the face while she momentarily had the advantage. It didn’t do much, but the blow still left a mark and the woman further startled.

As far as weapons go, a cane isn’t the most impressive. Even with hers being made out of living shadow, it was still essentially a stick to smack people around with. After a couple of middlingly effective strikes to the face and torso landed, the woman had recovered her composure, put up a guard, and set herself to the work ahead of her. The murderous intent in her eyes was plain. Not the hate-filled eyes that Vrek had thrown her way, but something much more terrifying.

One of the more insulting lines Len had heard over the course of her life, both in entertainment and more than a few times from shitty employers had been ‘it’s nothing personal, it’s just business’. It had always felt personal, and it had always hurt. If this woman had said it, though? She’d have believed it. There was no particular concern on her face, just a plain acceptance that the kill wasn’t going to be as easy as first expected and that she had to change her tactics.

“What, no preamble?” Len pouted. “Don’t you want to spend some time regaling me with the many sins that have led up to this assassination attempt?”

“Sorry, I don’t have that kind of time,” the woman replied with a rather dead smile. “I work on commission, not an hourly rate.”

“Ah, a working girl,” Len grinned, parrying a flurry of blows. “I can respect that, but I feel like you owe me at least a bit of information if you’re this dedicated to snuffing me out.”

“Sure, just put the stick down and I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” the woman said with a smirk.

“Thanks, I’ll pass.” For no particular reason, Len had found herself adopting something of a fencer’s stance, poking repeatedly at the woman who flowed away from each blow with maddening ease. “So tell me, did your master put you up to this on your own, or do you have other little minions hiding in the back waiting to burst out on us all John Woo on us?”

The reference was lost on the assassin, who barely managed to keep the puzzlement on her face to just a flash. She then launched another trio of those cards Len’s way. She managed to block them, but the change let the woman dash in close to start attacking with brutal strikes with her fists and elbows. Len kept the blows from striking anything vital, but still earned several nasty bruises on her shins and forearms.

“Oh man,” said Cammie with put-upon disappointment. “Don’t tell me that right after taking me on, you’re gonna get killed in a freaking dress-shop.”

“No, I’m not gonna get killed in a dress-shop,” Len snapped at the thing that looked like a girl sitting on the counter behind them.

“Hate to be the one to tell you this,” said the assassin, “but you really are.”

“Wasn’t talking to you,” Len muttered, dropping the cane and catching the woman’s left wrist in a lock. She twisted the palm out and up, then brought her free arm with all the force she could muster into the elbow joint. She was rewarded with a satisfying wrenching feeling, but didn’t manage to break the limb before the assassin broke free.

“What is with you,” the woman snapped. “You’re fighting for your life and yet you’re spouting lunacy.”

“She’s right, you know,” said Cammie. “You really should focus on the fight in front of you and not me.”

“Will you shut UP,” Len snapped. “I’ve got enough on my plate right now, do you WANT to get wiped out of existence?”

That got a blank stare out of the assassin and a chiming giggle out of Cammie. The shade was having entirely too much fun with the fact that she was clearly invisible to the others present. It was particularly annoying to have this happening without the time-stopping feature that tended to come with visits from Pitch. Sure, he had a tendency to bring plenty of annoyance to her, but at least he had the decency to make sure that he didn’t directly interfere with her day. Just plain rude.”

“I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours,” said the assassin, “but I think I’m about ready to be done with you.”

“Oh, are you now,” Len replied. “Seems like of the two of us, you’re the only one who’s having any trouble here. Is this the best that Claymar can afford? Maybe I’ve been giving him too much credit.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” said the woman plainly, “and it doesn’t matter, all that matters is that you die here.”

Len might’ve tried to make further use of that knowledge but didn’t have the time for it as the woman launched herself into the fray once more. Her left arm was held a bit more gingerly than her right after the damage it had taken, but she didn’t let it stop her as she rained blow after blow down on Len’s hastily raised guard. Pushing Cammie’s taunts out of her mind for the moment, Len focused on defense.

For what little it was worth, the assassin seemed to be losing ground. Either she’d put more faith in her initial ambush getting the job done or she simply wasn’t as good as she wanted people to think. Each attack was delivered quickly, but there was a dullness to it that was confusing. Bit by bit, the attacks were slowing and before either of them realized it, an opening had presented itself. Seizing it, Len struck the woman dead in the sternum with a sharp jab, then followed it up with an uppercut that went completely undefended and saw the woman go flying into the counter where Cammie was preening.