Assassin of Curses: (The Coren Hart Chronicles Book 3) by Jessie Eaker (best novels in english TXT) 📕

The bed’s other occupant groaned and sat up—female by the sound. I froze in place and readied my knife. She swung her legs over the other side and stood. I heard fumbling and realized she was going to turn on a light. My eyes went wide. I could not be seen.

As fast as I could move, I came around the perimeter of the bed to confront her. My knife quickly found her throat, but not before the light started. She gazed at me wide-eyed as she died.

To my horror, she was only a girl at least a handful of years younger than me. She was barely more than a child. Her face was covered in bruises, and dried blood came from her nose. I carefully eased her back to the bed. I clenched my fists as guilt flooded me. She had been no wife or concubine. But a victim. Beaten and raped, only to then be murdered because she was in the wrong place.

I extinguished the light returning the room to blackness.

But I could still see her eyes.

I was jerked out of Fumiko’s memory.

Disoriented, I looked around the interior trying to figure out where I was. I gradually realized I was in one of the village’s huts and not in some lord’s huge manor. But the memory felt incomplete. I hadn’t received any skills.

Fumiko still leaned over me, her hands trembling. I felt something wet hit my cheek. She jerked her hands away from me and wrapped them around herself. With her change in position, I could see her eyes rimmed with tears and her face a mask of sorrow.

I turned and put a hand on her knee. “Are you all right?” I asked.

She didn’t respond at first. She took a deep breath before looking up at me through her hair. “I’m sorry,” she said shakily. “I couldn’t finish. I thought I had buried those feelings, but apparently, they’re still there.”

I moved to sit cross-legged before her, processing what she had just revealed. The implications were hard to accept.

“You were an assassin.” It wasn’t an accusation, but a statement of fact.

She nodded. “I’ve killed so many people, I don’t remember them all.” She took a ragged breath. “Although there are a few, I can’t seem to forget.” She gazed at me levelly for a moment and then suddenly stood. “I’m sorry. I can’t continue tonight. I’ve lost focus. Maybe we can try this again tomorrow.”

“Of course,” I mumbled as my eyes followed her.

She returned to her mat and then lay down, her back to me.

I laid back down on my own mat. My brain swirled. Fumiko had been trained as an assassin. A lot of things fell into place—her sword skills, her ability at stealth, even the fine dagger she carried around. The calm, shy, intellectual girl I knew—was a cold-blooded murderer.

I suddenly wondered if perhaps there had been another reason for Fumiko sharing her memories with me. The normally cool young woman had trouble expressing her feelings, so maybe this was her way of sharing her misery.

She had told me previously that sleep was not her friend. I now understood why.

Because now, the eyes of that young girl haunted me.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Reunion

A fitful sleep finally found me, but I awoke the next morning, unrested and groggy. My slumber had been interrupted several times by the nightmares of a young girl’s shocked face. But in the final dream, it had been Cabrina. I gave up after that.

Fumiko was already gone from her mat.

I hadn’t been up too much longer when two of the villagers quietly brought our clothes back to us. I thanked them and proceeded to get Zofie up and dressed. Cabrina refused to budge, grumbling, and turning over when I nudged her. I finally gave up and just left her to sleep.

Spraggel, accompanied by the older woman I had seen him with the evening before, came in half-way through getting Zofie dressed. He was chipper and bright, talking incessantly about the people and their culture. He claimed to have already learned some of their language. He patted the arm of his companion, explaining he had an excellent teacher. She practically beamed at him.

I couldn’t handle all the cheerfulness and grabbed my sword, heading off for a few minutes of practice. Spraggel promised to make sure Zofie got fed and to get Cabrina up. I looked to the youth deep in slumber and wished him luck.

I was hoping a little exercise would clear my mind, and I was not the only one with such thoughts. I found Fumiko in a nearby clear spot at the edge of the village. A few of the villagers were watching as she practiced.

I had never observed Fumiko going through her forms before. She tended to practice in private, and now I understood why. I watched as she went through a series of moves I remembered from the first memory she had shared. And just like Jiaying had, she was going through them agonizingly slow.

I know she saw me approach, but she deliberately ignored me. And I thought I knew the reason. She was expecting rejection.

Instead, I stepped up beside her and picked up the form with her. She cut her eyes in my direction, but otherwise gave no indication I was there. Together in perfect synchrony, we went through the form—turn, step, point, stab, block, slice. We went through the whole routine. Then without a pause, did it again, only this time at a slightly faster pace. And finally again, going faster still. I had never moved so well. I was still rough, but the skills she had shared with me were unbelievable. And then I realized that each and every memory she gave me had cost