Cards of Survival

Cards of Survival

The man she intended to kill tonight was already late to their meeting, which increased Cataleya’s impatience tenfold. Her fingers tapped the old wooden table as the daggers strapped to her body whispered in her ear, thirsty for blood.

The forgotten warehouse was draped in silence and hidden from curious eyes, making up the ideal meeting point for the leader of a feared rebel house and an assassin tasked by her queen to bury him.

Shadows concealed her as she waited, similar to a tigress hunting down its prey. The killing order she received this morning burned in her mind, making her hands itch for a weapon.

First find out the deal he offers, she reminded herself.

Her head cocked to the side, ears picking up on hushed steps down the alley. The door’s hinges creaked loudly as a dark figure stepped into the room, a low chuckle on his lips.

“You’re late,” she said by way of greeting.

“And you are alone,” he remarked. “Yvana didn’t send the rest of the Blades with you?”

The corner of her lips raised slightly. “They are busy with other missions.” Her eyes scanned the shadows for intruders as she talked, pleased to see they didn’t have company. “I’m surprised to see you didn’t bring other members with you, Jaren.”

“I’m a man of my word.” He eyed her carefully. “Should I be worried you think so low of me?”

Cataleya raised an eyebrow daringly. “Should I be worried you think I care about your damn opinion?” she replied with a hint of amusement.

His unmistakable scarred face smirked as his eyes glinted with irritation. “Seems like you haven’t changed since our last encounter.”

“I recall you failing miserably at trying to kill me and the other Blades.”

Jaren’s smile remained in place, but Cataleya sensed the cold fury and iciness fermenting inside him. He was still ashamed by how easily they have escaped and how many of his members they’d murdered on their way out. “Old times.”

Cataleya retrieved a few scattered pages from her bodice, throwing them on the table without batting an eye. “Yvana’s debt is cleared,’ she announced as Jaren read the inky lines spread on the papers.

He hummed in satisfaction while the sailors’ voices yelled from the port, announcing that a storm was brewing.

The wind howled outside and carried the salty scent of the Northern Sea through the cracked windows, filling her nostrils. The cloak wrapped around her shoulders kept the night’s unforgiving cold at bay, not reaching the fighting leathers she had underneath.

“You mentioned a deal,” she prompted.

He touched his chin while his fingers wove through his beard. “I have a tempting offer for Yvana, and an even more interesting price to pay for it.”

Cataleya noticed the way he spoke; choosing his words carefully, nervousness biting at him as he kept knotting something in his pocket. He acted like a man who was desperate for something.

“I am listening,” she said as she sat in the chair next to the table and set her boots on its surface.

His eyes followed her movements and bore into hers, determination coating them. “I plan on killing Cayden Moreno and I need you and the rest of the Blades to join me.”

Silence wrapped around her mind, her thoughts quieted at the mention of the golden-eyed general. He wasn’t only the leader of thieving groups across continents and a black market dealer, he was also the man who Queen Yvana didn’t double cross.

If Cataleya wasn’t already focused on plotting Jaren’s death and gleaning more information, she would have laughed in his face for his recklessness.

“What price are you willing to pay for such a mission?” she asked as she inhaled the salty air and kept her vision sharp.

He set his palm flat on the desk and smiled with nonchalance. “Money. Tons of money, to be exact. You, Yvana and the Blades will have your fair share of the captured. I heard that she is still the master of torture in this realm.”

Cataleya felt her scars tickle her back, urging her to plant a dagger in Jaren’s throat and lose her traces in the shadows. She knew that his men couldn’t be too far away and would intervene if they suspected their leader was in danger.

“You have to offer us more than we can already attain ourselves, Jaren,” she replied. “If you thought we’d be risking our lives for gold, you are severely wrong.”

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “That is only the first half of the price.” He placed something on the desk, right beside her boots. His expression was overly confident, as if he’d already won what he desired.

She picked up the papers and shuffled to them quickly, watching the signature on the last paper and the royal sigil staining its corner.

“A contract with Royal House of Allegio,” he specified.

Cataleya stilled, but kept her indifferent mask in place, not betraying her inner thoughts. The Royal House of Allegio was a powerful, feared royal society which ruled the Black Market and exported anything starting from weapons and bombs to lists of wanted criminals and plans of attack. It had a wide network of spies and allies, earning money from the overly expensive and highly illegal sells.

It was also one of Yvana’s desired allies, and one that she hadn’t been able to contact in the past due to the members’ dislike towards Rovelyn. Such a contract could turn the tides for her extensive power.

A tide that Cataleya would make sure wouldn’t overflow. Her queen was already more powerful and reaching than Cataleya would’ve liked, her reign turning into one of terror if not careful.

“Unfortunately, we are not interested in what you have to offer.”

His mask slipped, his features turning from exceeding cockiness to surprise and impatience instantly. He blinked and the mask was back in place, a lazy smile playing on his lips, but Cataleya already glimpsed his façade drop.

“I fear you’re jumping to conclusions too quickly, Cataleya.”

She returned his smile, although hers cut sharper than a knife. “How so?”

Come on, spill your dirty secrets while I prepare my blade for your blood, her mind murmured.

“There are new products on the market, some that would bring higher profits to Rovelyn. And others that can be used as weapons of control over people.”

He pushed the papers in front of her again, his finger indicating the sigil. “That signature means unlimited freedom to Yvana and her resources when accessing the Black Market. Something your pet master needs.”

Cataleya looked between the papers and Jaren, curiosity churning. “Why are you hunting him?”

His dark eyes looked straight into hers, the shadows playing on his face. “For the reason all warriors fight for and poets write about. Revenge.”

Revenge was no stranger to Cataleya. It had become her new shadow, following her wherever she went and whatever name she took. It fueled her soul, yet it drowned her in the past. A reminder of old scars and haunting memories.

“What for?”

Jaren’s expression turned from a constant play of resolution to one of hatred. “My brother’s death.”

Surprise arose in her at the words, recalling the first time she heard the news a few months ago in the bustling streets. News were spreading faster than a drop of black ink in a glass of water; in a matter of days, people were whispering in market squares and crowded bars about the brutal butchering of Jaren’s second in command, left by the river for vultures to pick upon. The streets have been fuming and selling the information to anyone who was willing to pay some insignificant amount of coppers.

“I’ve been hunting this man for three months, following his actions from continent to continent. I’m ready to make him pay and avenge my brother.”

Cataleya pulled her legs off the desk and rose from the wooden chair, the daggers strapped to her hips pleading to be unleashed. She’d found out what she needed.

“We will contact you with our decision in a few days’ time.”

She reached for the papers, but Jaren’s fingers already grasped the contract, blocking her.

“If Yvana decides to accept the offer, then she will receive the contract. Do not take me as a fool, Cataleya.”

Without warning, Cataleya pulled a dagger from her bodice and drove it into the hand resting upon the desk, the blade sinking through flesh and wood with ease. Jaren screamed, blood gushing from his wound and down the papers, rivers of scarlet running down the pristine contract and mixing with the written words.

“Fuck!” he roared, trying to disentangle himself from the table. The pommel of her dagger was deeply plunged in his hand, the silver blade pinning his palm to the wood.

The more he tried to escape, the more blood he lost and less functional his arm was going to be.

“Because you wanted to rush to a conclusion, I’ll have to deny your offer on Yvana’s part.” She smirked as she saw Jaren’s face pale, who watched her retrieve a slim match from her boot.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked, panic biting his tone.

His hands tried to grasp the dagger and free his hand, but he shrieked again when he realized he was trapped.

“Getting rid of some competition,” she replied as she struck the match and let it fall on the ground.

The small flame rapidly spread, licking the wooden desk and chair and capturing Jaren’s boots. She’d prepared this place yesterday night, dropping gallons of black oil on the ground and walls of the warehouse, the night hiding its marks.

In a matter of minutes, the place was about to burn in flames, just like him.

“You are sick,” he spit as he jerked violently against the flaming desk.

“And you will be dead by the end of the hour,” she said as she walked away. “Unfortunately for you, meeting me in such a lonely place where no one would find your body soon enough was a grave mistake.”

Her legs moved to the massive front door, watching the fire spread and ignoring the insults and swears spilling from Jaren’s lips. She could already feel the cold night air and the harsh wind ruling the alleys. She turned her head to Jaren, who was fighting the fire cornering him and cursing her name.

“Yvana sends her condolences,” she said, watching a mixture of hatred and fear take over his features.

Cataleya walked away, smoke tingling her nostrils as Jaren’s screams grew louder. The street was empty, not a soul in sight. Everyone was aware that Yvana’s assassins ruled the kingdom at night and that the outskirts were far more dangerous than the sea’s raging waves.

She stepped into the shadows and let the darkness devour her whole, her eyes glued to the glowing warehouse. Moonlight danced on the cobblestones with the growing flames, silver entwined with copper.

And as the fire spread its fingers higher over the building and Jaren’s screams died, Cataleya pulled the hood over her head and started her path back to the palace, leaving the angry flames, ash and blood behind.