Page 92 of The Book That Wouldn't Burn

“W—”

“I feel you’re undervaluing her.” Yute cut off the first of Livira’s questions about brothels, crabs, and brothel-crabs.

Malar spat and drew his sword, though there was nothing that Livira could see in the shadowed street ahead of them. “This one is apt to steal your dagger and jump into a dust-bear’s mouth with it. She’s wasted on the library.” He raised his voice, addressing the darkness around them. “She should be doing your job, killer. She’d be a sight better at it.”

Nothing but silence. Livira wondered what had caught Malar’s attention. Perhaps just the fact that the road was so quiet and so dark. Maybe it was the spot he would have chosen for such business.

“I hope Lord Algar has hired someone decent this time,” Malar continued to talk to the night, motioning for Livira to stay with Yute while he advanced. “You’re the follow-up to a trio of street bullies. Not a hard act to follow. If you shoot her first—I’ll have you. And if you shoot me first—she’ll run. But if you come out to play, she’ll stay to watch. She won’t be able to help herself.”

A black-clad figure dropped into the road from the roof of one of the outbuildings behind the bath halls neighbouring the lesser palace. It landed with a grace and unnatural springiness that made Livira think of the sabber’s bouncing walk as it had approached her settlement. The figure leaned something long against the wall—an arrow-stick perhaps. Livira saw a faint glow near the thicker end.

The assassin walked towards them, drawing two curving swords, both slightly longer than the soldier’s straight blade.

“I normally kill rich people in their sleep.” A woman’s voice, mildly amused.

“Of course you do,” Malar said. “Which one are you?”

“Janacar.” The woman rolled her head, flexing her neck. “Who are you?”

“Nobody. Just an old soldier.”

The woman pulled away the black cloth covering her face. The starlight caught the angles of her cheekbones and the grim twist of her mouth. “Don’t do yourself down, old soldier. You’re the man who added a little interest into my dull night. I hope you put up a good show. It would be such a shame to have it all over in a trice. Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am.”

“I’ve yet to have a complaint.” Malar didn’t move as Janacar closed on him.

The assassin circled to the left. She twitched, then feinted, seeing if she could provoke a response. Suddenly she was on the floor. Malar flicked the blood from his sword.

“Who are you?” The pained whisper of a dying woman.

Malar’s only answer was a second thrust of his sword, silencing her for good.

“Come on.” He beckoned them forward.

Livira gave the corpse a wide berth.

“Impressive” was Yute’s only comment.

“Algar didn’t spend enough the first time,” Malar said. “Spent too fucking much this time. Everyone’s heard of Janacar. She thought I was beneath her. Didn’t take me seriously. Should have shot me from the roof.”

“Why didn’t she?” Livira asked, still aware of the blood dripping from Malar’s blade.

Malar shrugged. “Her kind spend most of their spare time training to fight with fancy swords, and most of their employment sneaking about, poisoning drinks, choking old men with wires, that sort of thing. She stepped away from what she does best into what I do best. They’ve not been in enough fights where they stood a chance of dying to understand you’d have to be an idiot to put yourself in that position just for a bit of fame.”

“You did,” Livira said. “For money.”

“And now I’m a rich idiot instead of a poor idiot.”

“But you said they spend ages training at sword fighting...” Livira tried to replay the action in her mind, but she’d seen nothing, just a live assassin and then a dead one.

“Training isn’t the real thing. Books aren’t either. Probably worth remembering that now you’re a librarian. Take your nose out of those pages long enough to live some life rather than reading about other people doing it.”

Livira stared at Malar. He didn’t sound like himself at all. They reached the stair and began climbing. She followed him, with Yute at her back. Something glistened on the steps but the starlight that revealed it also made it hard to work out what she was seeing. She paused and leaned down to set her fingers to a step a few up from hers.

“Blood?” She stared at Malar’s back. “You’re bleeding?”

“It’ll stop,” he grunted.

“But... you got her!”

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