The Drowning Gull 1 | Page 30

pressed the blade to her throat. She gasped for breath. The girl tried to squirm away, so I pushed the blade in deeper so my assailant could feel the edge, but not enough to draw blood. She stopped squirming then and looked at me. The girl's eyes filled with panic.

This seemed almost too easy. This girl lacked the experience that many other assassins possessed, and, at her age, someone had to have sent an amateur to kill me. It wasn't happening tonight.

"Who sent you?" I snarled.

I made myself sound as menacing as I could, as I generally don't make too much of an intimidating presence. Most of my opponents underestimate me because I don't look like I would do well in a fight-- if it came to blows, I probably wouldn't, but I always look for an edge. With her expression, I found it.

It was a simple spell, and one that many bards and minstrels used. I looked the girl in the eyes, nodded my head and waggled the fingers of my right hand outside her vision. The spell worked. All I had to do was take the emotions that the target felt and amplify them. The girl's fear had turned into panic, which worked in my favour. I pressed her against the wall and repeated my question.

"Enos!" she gasped, her breath a whisper. "Enos sent me to kill you. Please don't kill me. "

I relaxed my grip and stood back. The pitiful girl slithered to the ground, clutching at her throat and sobbing. I had the answer I needed.

I kicked the other dropped knife toward her. The metal clattered against the stones and immediately caught her attention. The girl stared at me, hesitant and confused.

"Thirty minutes. The Red Boar. Second floor, and fourth door on the left. Meet me there."

I turned and walked away.

The Drowning Gull

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