“I only do what I must,” Zusa said.
“Don’t lie to me,” Alyssa said. “I need you here. My son needs you here. Without your protection, we might...”
“Don’t you understand?” Zusa said, whirling to face her. “That is why I go. It doesn’t matter how closely I guard you, you’re still vulnerable. The threat lurks, and I must find it.”
“No,” Alyssa said, crossing arms. “This Widow is just some sick fuck with a crossbow. Whoever it is can’t be better than you.”
“It’s not the Widow,” Zusa said, shaking her head. “That was only a reminder of the threats made against us. It’s the other Faceless. They’re just like me, Alyssa. No matter how many guards you surround yourself with, or how diligent I remain, they can still find you. When I sleep, or am separate from you for only a moment. Walls mean nothing, and shadows are just doors...”
Alyssa stepped closer, put a hand against Zusa’s cheek.
“You stopped them before. You can stop them again.”
“They were foolish, and revealed themselves before they attacked. They won’t be so proud again. For whatever reason, Karak’s servants want you dead. Don’t you understand how dangerous a position that is? They are powerful, and they are relentless. If I don’t do something now, if I don’t find out why, then I can’t keep you safe. And I won’t let that happen. I won’t lose you. I won’t lose Nathan.”
“So you’ll run off and get yourself killed instead?”
Tears were forming in Alyssa’s eyes. Zusa hardened her heart best she could against them.
“Far better me than you,” she whispered.
Alyssa kissed her cheek, then wrapped her arms about her. Zusa tilted her head, just the slightest opening, enough for Alyssa to press her face against her neck and let her tears wet her skin.
“With everyone else I must be strong,” said Alyssa. “With everyone else I must be a lie. Don’t you dare leave me alone. You come back, understand me? You come back.”
Zusa gently pushed her away, then kissed her on the forehead.
“Help me put on my cloak,” she said.
That done, Zusa went to the door, put her hand on the wood.
“Alyssa,” she said, trying to find the words. “I want you to know...”
“Whatever it is you think you should say, don’t,” Alyssa said, and her face hardened along with her resolve. “You’re coming back, remember?”
Zusa smiled at her.
“Of course, my mistress,” she said, then vanished into the corridors of the mansion. She weaved through them like a ghost, slipped through the courtyard without being seen by the guards, and then vaulted over the fence. She could only hope the other Faceless would not attack in her absence. She’d searched the grounds for hours before leaving, just to be sure, but there was no way to know for certain. It was a gamble, but one she had to take.
She’d made Daverik a promise: if he came after Alyssa and her family, then nothing would protect him. It was a promise she had every intention of keeping. She kept to the streets, needing speed more than anything. Her strike had to come before the temple decided to act again. The mob had failed to accomplish their goal, and her daggers had protected Alyssa from their Faceless. Two failures...it would be too much to expect a third.
Zusa slowed as she neared the temple. To most it would have appeared to be a large, well-furnished private mansion, but those who knew how to look, who had bent the knee to Karak, saw differently. They saw a great temple cut from black marble, the path to it lined with stone. Statues of lions roared from atop various pillars, their teeth sharp, their eyes always watching. Zusa remembered her final day within it, the day she’d been stripped and banished. The Faceless, unworthy of Karak’s presence, were boarded elsewhere. Zusa had been tempted to seek out the Faceless where they slept, but they were just puppets, not the real threat. Even with their deaths, more would come. Priests, perhaps, or dark paladins. She had to find the reason for Karak’s ire, and see if she could somehow defuse it.
With a running leap she sailed over the fence. Drawing her daggers in mid-air, she landed with a quiet whisper of bending grass and sliding dirt. In the silence of the night, she let out a single prayer, a soft blasphemy against the temple she was about to enter.
“I have seen no love from you, Ashhur,” she breathed. “But I ask for it now. Help me kill him. Help me save my family.”
The wind blew, and she took that for her answer. Like an uncoiling serpent she moved, a sudden burst without pause or doubt. She knew the layout of the temple, knew where there’d be guards, priests, young disciples, and serving women. They would not have changed a thing over the ten years, she knew. Karak was not fond of change, especially when it came to his most devout followers. Her feet barely touched the grass as she ran, gathering momentum. It was suicide, she knew, to attack the temple head on, even at night, with her prey unprepared. Suicide.