-34-

To say that Tan was pissed would probably have been an understatement. She had heard rumours of a council meeting that day and saw Vhiena slipping off. No sooner had the assassin returned, she then received another letter and had run off again. This left Tan with nothing to do but glare at the scoreboard, at Vhiena's name one beneath her.

Above them were two other agents, then Rand retaining his prized place at the top.

She knew that Cerid was wrapped around her little finger. He was helping her cheat—she was sure of it. Rand sat beside her, arms crossed. He was the one she whispered her outrage to. With them also sat a red-head who had pushed off one of the final three agents in the last challenge, who had announced her name was Hana.

Too many people had been disgruntled by the arrogant agent, their places dislodged by her antics. Tan was the only assassin who deserved the place. She had worked for it, each year training and applying and clawing her way to the top. Last year she made it to the finals. This time, she wasn't going to let anything go to chance. Especially not a reckless, swaggering agent who could tip the balance.

A single thought throbbed in her mind, distracting her from anything else. A cruel sort of giddiness descended on her person as a sharp vision penetrated through her plotting. Her gaze slid to Rand and Hana, quirking a brow. Settling back, she smiled as pieces of her plan forged together in an iron grip. Vhiena needed to be eliminated, and eliminated she would be.

#

Another carrier thrust a small note in her hand as she walked into Section 6. In the lost language of Rau. The language every agent at the Order had learnt in their studies. It mentioned a meeting, in fact, a meeting Elle was already late for. With a huff, the assassin trudged out to follow the instructions in the note, cursing both DETRA and the Order under her breath.

She had to dodge Mather as he prowled back to recruitment quarters on her way to where Tristan's writing had ordered her to wait: outside one of the meeting halls. Leaning against the stone wall, the assassin didn't jump as Tristan materialised from the darkness of one of the alcoves. "Took you long enough." He eventually spoke.

Elle raised a brow, quipping back. "I'm never late."

"I see DETRA hasn't dampened your sharp wit."

"Life would be rather dull without it." Pushing off the wall, Elle tilted her head. "Lead the way."

Tristan beckoned her into a cramped passage in which he had to duck. For once, she was glad of her smaller frame. They popped out into a small room, abandoned and forgotten for decades. What was it with DETRA and all these secret places within their walls? The thick layer of dust settled on the tables and chairs reminded her of the makeup she used to see ladies in Eryan wear.

Whatever the purpose of this room had been, it had been boarded up years ago.

The rest of the team were perched on table corners or had drawn up a chair. Kath's eyes lit up as the pair entered, her pink hair unusually tousled. A pang of jealousy followed—despite weeks of gritty training and no sunlight, Kath's natural beauty was undeterred. Shaking off green scales from her skin, Elle embraced the girl.

Leo pulled her into a large hug, enveloping her in his burly figure. Playfully pushing him off her, Elle flashed a mischievous grin. Jax nodded to her, offering a small smile. That was as friendly as that relationship stretched to. Maybe, in later years they might call one another friends. Elle shuddered at the thought.

Jax shifted in his place on the floor, kicking away broken glass and debris littered around them. He began quietly, but not meekly. "As you are all aware, DETRA has introduced lockdown recently. They've been keeping the entire story very hush-hush. I took it upon myself to investigate, start asking the right people what happened." He paused, taking a breath. "They are aware that the Order have infiltrated. Two agents got inside a few days ago."

Tristan's brows formed a crease. "That can't be right—what was their aim? To find the heir?"

Elle chewed on her lip, speaking up. "DETRA have had inklings of the Order's presence for a few weeks, now." All eyes swivelled to her. "And the attack the other day isn't propaganda. Two agents from the Order did attack, weaselling through DETRA's defences and targeting the first people they found. I don't believe they knew any more than we do about the heir's identity."

Kath raised her hand. "Mikel wouldn't have jeopardised our position here by inducing an incident, would he?"

No one answered her. The answer merely hung in the air—no one but Mikel understands his reasoning. Jax eventually spoke, his voice authoritative. "And what proof do you have that they were, without a doubt, agents from the Order?"

All her instincts screamed at her to lie, to take back her statement. But her head took control of her nervous impulses, moving her mouth for her. "I was one of the agents they attacked."

Four pairs of eyes turned to her. Jax's flashed accusingly. He opened his mouth, brows knitting together but Elle continued, cutting him off.

"I didn't know who they were! They dropped from the ceiling during training and tried to kill us." She stumbled onwards, words falling from her lips. The silence from everyone else was deafening. "Gods, I killed one of them. Afterwards, I searched their bodies and found the Order's sigil. I suspected that DETRA wouldn't divulge information to recruits."

Leo's eyes flashed, "you didn't know who they were. It's simple. They tried to kill you and you defended yourself."

"And DETRA, it seems..." Jax added, head cocked to the side. She grimaced. Elle didn't need another reminder. "Tell us, Elle. How on earth did you end up on DETRA's front lines?"

"I was training out of sessions with my mentor."

"You...need extra sessions?" Jax didn't try to conceal his incredulous smirk. Elle glared at him.

"Who?" Tristan asked at the same time. "Cerid." His name rolled off her tongue, accompanied by a sharp pang in her chest. Why did she feel like she was betraying him?

Leo nodded, lost in thought. He had, of course, met Cerid before under the alias of Aerly.

"We have to think clearly now about our next moves." Tristan bit his lip, pacing across the abandoned classroom. "Elle—was this mentor the only person with you?"

Jax was about to make another ill-timed taunt at her, but Leo elbowed him. She nodded, fiddling with one of her nails as Tristan muttered to himself. "DETRA's securities have increased tenfold. Guards are now doing rounds of hallways and sections multiple times an hour. Despite this, communication is critical so our meetings will be here should we need them. Surviving the next two eliminations and identifying the heir is our number one priority."

Elle's nail dug into her palm, hard enough to draw blood. She should speak up, tell her team that she had discovered the Imperial Heir. That credit was hers to take—not Jax's or Tristan's. Somehow, her lips refused to part and spill more secrets.

Jax's gruff voice scratched against the walls. "The sooner we finish this, the quicker we can leave this damned cave." Then his gaze slid to Elle. "Talk to this mentor of yours and see what you can seduce out of him."

She could have sworn Tristan's nostrils flared.

Flipping him a vulgar gesture in reply, Elle huffed and crossed her arms.

Tristan wove his fingers behind his back. "Am I correct in assuming that since you all got here in time, you can all read the dead languages of Rau?"

Jax scoffed. "Every child at the Order can read it."

"I know enough," Leo said, then added. "But I don't see why we have to learn the awful things. No one speaks it anymore apart from those savages still on the islands—if there's any left. I heard that they used to be big cults but they all ended up killing each other."

Kath quirked a brow. "They weren't cults, Leo. Just tribes hunted to extinction for the feathers of their beasts. So rare that people thought they would gain good luck by owning one."

"And the feathers were said to be like armour. Almost impenetrable." Elle interjected, the history tomes piled in her room coming to mind. "Alas, no one's seen one for hundreds of years."

Leo huffed, crossing his arms. "Still basically cults," he muttered.

"Whatever they had they're dead now." Jax brushed the issue behind him. Kath winced slightly at his loud interruption. "If you must, write notes in the language. Any advancements in our searches, tell me immediately. As soon as we find out his identity, we will get close to him and go. I just want this thing over and done with...whatever Mikel's planning."

"We will meet the night of the ceremony, once his identity has been released." Tristan paused, then added. "And to see if anyone didn't make it."

They nodded solemnly, one by one slipping from the room. There was nothing more to say.

Elle turned down the empty hall, heart hammering as a patrol passed her, frowning. The Order had a plan. A plan which she would have to follow through on, for the safety of her friends and her contract with Mikel. Because she was an assassin of the Order, their sigil a half empty goblet. Mikel had told her once of its meaning: no matter how full the glass is, there'll always be a little emptiness that can be manipulated into one's hands.

She had laughed, swirling her own wine glass before her. He wore a sinister grin and took great enjoyment in adding— wine is the easiest drink to slip poison into. The scent and colour mask it until the man is flopping around on the floor, choking on his own damned drink.

Elle hadn't drunk wine around Mikel Sionnyn since.