Eli wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. The saliva came off like flecks of rust.
Last time, Eli had stood in front of this pulsing monstrosity for hours, waiting to be let in, looking for a hidden doorway. Now, an elegant archway simply materialized in front of Circinae, and together they entered the most sacred and dangerous place in the city.
There was only one hallway. Shading her eyes, Eli followed Circinae down the hall and into a room that felt like the womb of a goddess. It was simultaneously bright and claustrophobic. It whispered of endless space and small, dirty prisons.
This effect was intentional. The architect had been the greatest witch of all time.
“You’re early,” said a voice that echoed against the walls. “We’ve only just sent the summons.”
Eli smiled to herself, pleased when the timelessness of the city worked in her favour.
Slowly, as her eyes adjusted to the light, she could see the outlines of the Coven’s first ring. They all wore white, creating the effect of floating heads.
Circinae knelt. Eli knelt, too.
“You bring death with you, little assassin,” said another voice. Eli couldn’t tell who was speaking — their mouths did not appear to move.
“I am death, lords.” She responded in the usual manner.
“Then rise, so we may inspect our tool.”
Eli stood, looking straight ahead. Circinae remained kneeling.
The Coven circled Eli, bits of soft fabric brushing against her skin, hands touching her hair and poking her stomach, like a doctor palpating for pain.
When the inspection was over, Circinae rose. Eli stepped back and waited for the negotiations to begin. As Circinae’s daughter and a tool rather than a person, she had no say in the matter.
“We have a new target. This one must be taken out immediately. It is our utmost priority.”
“So soon?” Circinae’s voice dripped with honey. “She has barely rested from her last assignment, which went extremely well. I had hoped to reward her.”
“She is a superior weapon,” one of them conceded. “The best daughter you’ve ever made, Circinae. But the threat is —”
“It is not for you to question the Coven,” another voice snapped, and Eli suspected they had said more than intended. “Is she ready, or does she need additional time to heal? We had thought she was a flawless design.”
How many daughters had Circinae made? And what had happened to them? Eli recalled Kite’s words and suppressed a shudder, questions she wished she had asked flooding her mind. Kite, what did you discover? And what will happen to me when you are the Witch Lord, sending girls like me to their deaths or killing us yourself? Will you even call it killing?
“Oh, she is ready, my lords,” Circinae bowed again. “You have seen yourself her fitness, her expert construction. I only wanted to ensure she is handled with the care befitting a daughter of her status.”
Murmuring filled the room, echoing off the smooth, gleaming walls.
“No one has denied that you have done well, Circinae. You will be rewarded for her success. Perhaps we should admit you into the third ring of the Coven, where you might better serve your people.”
“I would be honoured, my lords.”
Eli knew the negotiations were coming to a close. As Eli’s handler, Circinae was the only person who could order Eli on missions, and so the lords had to bargain with her, granting her more power as their reliance on Eli grew.
“The details are here.” A scrap of crimson velvet materialized in Eli’s hand.
This was new, but Circinae took it in stride. “I will read it to you,” she said, as if Eli could not read. It was a secret they kept from the Coven.
“No. This is for the weapon alone. It will speak to her mind. These secrets will only be yours when you have been inducted into the third ring.”
Eli could almost feel the rage emanating from Circinae’s body. It was unheard of for the Coven to give an assignment directly to an assassin.
“Very well, my lords.”
The scrap of fabric twisted in her palm as Eli let it read itself to her mind, maintaining the illusion of illiteracy.
She frowned. Opened her mouth. Paused.
“May I speak, my lords?”
Circinae wheeled around and stared at her in shock and horror. Tools were forbidden from speaking in the inner sanctum of the Coven.
But tools were also forbidden from reading. Rules had already been broken. Eli felt her heart jump at this act of daring, wondering how much she would suffer for it.
“The tool may ask one question. Consider this additional payment for your services, Circinae.”
Mollified at being addressed directly, Circinae nodded but shot Eli a vicious look. Her bargaining power was being halved by Eli’s request.
“Where is the rest of the report? This appears incomplete.”
Circinae gasped at the audacity of the question that implied error or weakness. But Eli had never received only a name before. Where were the eyelashes, the fingernail, the taste of sweat? Names could be stolen, discarded, or lost — only the signature of flesh would ensure a successful mission.
“The report is complete. Unless you are incapable of performing this task without additional information?” The voice was mild, but the question was venomous and sharp, and directed at Eli rather than her mother.
“No, my lords. This will suffice.” To be safe, Eli bent into a formal bow again.
“Then you are dismissed.”
Eli was sent out of the chamber while Circinae completed the negotiation.
Outside, the sky was striped purple and green, and Eli sat on the steps and stared up at the beauty of the clouds. She wanted to go back to the river, to lie down on soft moss with Kite and watch the clouds turn into fantastical creatures and ships.
The daydream ended with Circinae’s arrival. Eli tensed. Her outburst had ruined Circinae’s bargaining. She waited for her punishment.
To her surprise, Circinae said nothing, only stared into her daughter’s crocodile eyes thoughtfully, made a soft sound to herself, and then stepped away. “You are to leave immediately,” she said, looking out at the bustling city streets.
She turned back to Eli and brushed her palm against Eli’s cheek. Eli froze. Circinae repeated the words she always said before a mission: “My glory is your glory. Your victory is my victory. You are a tool and you have value. The Coven will honour us for our service.”
“Your glory is my glory,” said Eli dutifully. “My victory is your victory. I am a tool and I have value. The Coven will honour us for our service.”
“Remember,” Circinae said suddenly, her pupils like flames in the whites of her eyes, “remember that I taught you how to read.”
Then she was gone. Eli was alone, the fading warmth of Circinae’s hand on her cheek, a name burned into her memory:
Virginia White.
Six
Eli was unravelling.
She could feel the fear and confusion stir in her body like leaves in the fall. His glasses askew, one arm broken —
She had a mission. That should have been enough. It had been a long time since she felt this uncertain, and the feeling left her adrift, lonely and lost on the blinding steps. Her heart thudded in her chest.
The mission. The name. That was her mark. All she had to do was what she did best. And then she could return to her moss bed, frolic with Kite under the river, parry words and wits with Circinae, and prepare for the next job. Gather knowledge and grow strong. Increase her value.