Chapter 13

Lucas and Wren continue following the Premier until they’re just in front of the recently broken-into storefront. Armin rises and drops the glass shard just as the three newcomers arrive.

“Two more on the case, Mr. Fuchs.” The Premier presents Lucas and Wren, who step forward. None offer to shake hands, though Lucas gives a subtle wave which Armin fails to notice. His attention is towards Wren.

“Fräulein Wren, we meet again.” Armin greets her with charm and a grin, juxtaposed against Wren’s straight face. “And you’re with…?”

“Lucas Grey.” He introduces himself.

“Yes, fine meeting you.”

Right off the bat, Lucas struggles to read the man with any accuracy. German, certainly, but with an air of mystery about him. They’ve only just met, but Lucas can’t shake the feeling that the man he’s talking to knows plenty about him already. As though he’s heard or observed, but never in-person to see the specimen for himself. Wren breaks this train of thought.

“You know, you missed the last two operations reports.”

“Did I? Forgive me, I’ve been busy elsewhere.” His smile, Lucas notes, has thinned. Armin notes Wren’s active gear, as though on que. “Are you working right now? Anything needing my expertise?” Faintly, his suave way of talking starts to carry a tinge of sour. His expertise is murder.

“Let’s focus on one task at a time.” The Premier butts in before either Lucas or Wren can respond. “Mr. Fuchs, any leads so far?”

“Plenty.” He nods and turns back to the storefront. “I don’t know how many there were, but I do have a good idea as to where they’ve gone from here.”

“But you’ve only seen the one store front.” The Premier brings this up with hesitation, unsure if Armin’s confidence is grounded in any evidence. “I can show you another one they hit yesterday.”

“I’ve gathered all of the information I need. It would take too long to explain.” Armin looks out past the buildings between the street and some forested hills in the near distance. Something in his focused eyes, Lucas recognizes, seems to glimmer with the slightest green tint. When he blinks, it disappears. He addresses Wren. “We can proceed on foot. They aren’t far.”

“Lead the way, let’s get this over with.” She answers with a gesture giving him permission to proceed.

The group of three depart from Corinth, heading south from the canal towards the uninhabited elevated land. Armin leads the way, appearing to follow a trail he’s conjured in his mind. Not once along the way does he stop to look around or check for tracks. The perfect assassin strolls with his hands in his pockets, a bow strapped to his back, and a quiver of arrows at his left hip. Though his arms are clothed, Lucas can get a sense that they’re less muscular than one would expect from an archer.

Wren speeds up a bit in an attempt to reach Armin, whispering to Lucas along the way. “I need to speak with him in private.”

“About what?”

Lucas’ question is so surprising that Wren stops and drops back to answer him. “If I felt comfortable telling you, it wouldn’t need to be a private conversation.”

“If it’s about the mission, I should know about it.”

“Unrelated Court business. I’d include you otherwise.”

Lucas is silent. His focus switches between Wren at his side and Armin back ahead of them. He opens his mouth to speak, but Wren cuts him off.

“We’ve been through this. Do you trust me to give you relevant information?”

In his head, Lucas’ answer is an uncertain ‘yes’. But Armin is a new variable, an unknown with vague connections to the already untrusted Court authority. Lucas has learned to feel out Wren’s honesty over the past several hours of their mission, but Armin represents a veil of obscurity. He would have been the go-to hire in Lucas’s stead had he been available. The circumstances are such that Lucas cannot shake the feeling of being surrounded by some kind of potential danger. He struggles to put together a verbal response.

“I don’t know him.” Lucas regrets saying this shortly afterward, recognizing how childish it must sound.

“You don’t need to. You know me. I’m on your side.”

Trust is a difficult relation to achieve, and Lucas isn’t sure with what strength it exists between himself and Wren. But there is no alternative. And he has enough of a shadow of trust in Wren that he can take the chance of being outside of whatever conversation she wants to have with Armin. He looks her in the eyes and remembers a moment like this back in Kamares.

“Alright.” However uncertain, Lucas nods in agreement and slows his pace to give Wren some distance as she approaches Armin.

His attention is fixed on them as they begin exchanging inaudible whispers. Wren’s demeanor tells him that she’s picking up where she left off in Corinth, something about Armin’s ‘operations report’. That the Court could allow one of their most effective workers to go unaccounted for is a surprise to Lucas. As the most prominent power in the region, shouldn’t they demand higher standards of cooperation? In fact, Lucas has seen first-hand the consequences of independent behavior. His father couldn’t find work after refusing to join that fatal expedition almost two years ago. Unfair as it is, the Court knows how to blacklist any man or woman from finding work in all nearby territories. If they want compliance, they get it.

What makes Armin different? Is he rich enough to sail north where the Court’s influence can’t reach? No, he dresses modestly. A more affluent assassin could afford a more robust bow, a set of artisan arrows, and armor of higher grade. Armin’s gear is only marginally better than what Lucas has. Does he alone command enough clout to be hired wherever he pleases? If that were the case, he wouldn’t be wasting his time working in Corinth of all places. There’s more money to be made in Argos, Kalamata, or Athens.

“What is he even doing here?” Lucas finds himself thinking. None of it adds up. The question beckons so strongly for an answer that Lucas almost dares to walk up and ask. He holds himself back long enough to see Armin turn his head quite far to his left. Lucas does the same, trying to find whatever it is that Armin is seeing in the distance. Nothing. He turns his gaze back to Armin, whose head it still turned just enough for Lucas to see his left eye.

“Me.” To his slight distress, Lucas finds that Armin’s indirect focus is on him, as though to size him up with subtlety. Just then, his opinion of this Armin character drops to that of active distrust. Lucas does his best to appear unaware of the assassin’s side-eye glare. Wren, having noticed Armin’s changed posture, raises her voice enough for Lucas to hear. He can’t make out what exactly she said, but whatever it was made Armin face forward again.

Their conversation continues until they reach the treeline of the forest covering the hills. Wren slows until Lucas catches up, leaving Armin ahead. Lucas expectantly looks at Wren every few seconds, waiting for her to say anything about what happened moments ago. These quick looks don’t go unnoticed. She breaks the silence quietly once they enter the woods.

“I’ll fill you in when we’re done here.” She reassures him.

Lucas now keeps his eyes fixed on Armin, still wondering what his true business is in Corinth. But his trust in Wren, formerly in question, is somewhat refortified.

The group moves deeper into the hills, facing only slightly varying changes in elevation. The tops of the hills have somewhat flat ground, but the terrain on the slopes is far more uneven and rocky. Wild game: hares, foxes, and hedgehogs come and go from small caves with thin entrances. The ubiquitous trees shade the area from sunlight, which breaks through in streaks overhead.

By now, the group is closer together so that Lucas and Wren don’t lose Armin as he leads the way. He stops, turns to his right, blinks once, and narrows his eyes. That some green hue shows for a moment and disappears with another blink. Lucas peers through the trees ahead of Armin, trying to find the source of the light that must have been reflecting off of the assassin’s eyes, but finds no such thing.

They continue for about a minute more before Armin stops and lowers himself behind concealing bushes. Lucas and Wren do the same. The assassin points ahead at a cave with an entrance notably larger than the others nearby. Near its entrance are two full backpacks, one slightly open to reveal the contents of jewelry inside. From within the cave itself, three figures of relatively average height emerge to approach the packs. Getting a good look at them, Lucas guesses that each is somewhere near fifteen years of age.

Armin makes his presence known by rising and stepping forward, eliciting a sudden response from the thieves. They focus on the source of the sound and reach for their hips with mildly shaking hands. In holsters, each brandishes some form of knife or dagger. Not letting their age distract him, Lucas reads the situation objectively. He and Wren read their body language and come to the same conclusion: that the culprits at the mouth of the cave appear willingly hostile.