Pushing aside the fact that this man’s death would benefit me too, I got down to business, “The Order’s assassins will unerringly locate your presence. They’ll hear you – at very least. Ambush is pointless.”

  Cutlery was laid out in an unnecessarily abundant manner. I have been taught how to use all that, many years ago, but one-handed life did not permit the dignity.

  Picked up a bun, half of which was already cut off and sampled, and tried to smear butter whilst it joyfully slid around the plate. Raktkalis watched my inept moves with contempt. Perhaps he was just raptly listening to the meagre information I was willing to divulge on this precious subject.

  I went on, “Most will have additional ways to sense the surroundings.”

  “How?” was a logical follow-up. I hoped he wouldn’t ask. Shook myself out of the stupor when I realised something else entirely was being spoken.

  “What’s wrong with your arm now?”

  Raised my face to look at the intense, maniacal stare. I guess, there had been worse topics to be discussing.

  “Nothing, my lord,” I firmly whispered back, staring back at the man’s demand to yield. Added an explanation, “T-three backwards prot-trusions aren’t d-deft either way.”

  “You can tell me, or make it interesting,” Raktkalis remarked and I’ve lost even the pretend-appetite for all these rare delicacies.

  I wasn’t allowed to forget my status even for a second. This was not a friendly meeting. I was sitting in front of a man who got everything he desired. I had to hope the next thing he wants won’t be an impromptu excision. The teeth marks took a while to stop actively bugging me.

  Bright side – the warning was more courtesy than he has given to the men who have been guarding him.

  Dark dammit.

  “It’s t-tempohrarily paralysed. I’d have hat-ted t-to g-give someone here an awk-kward shave.”

  “How thoughtful,” he drawled and put his palm out in a demand.

  Had I suspected an intention to butcher me again, I would not have complied. Even so, I pulled out a small bottle and put it in front of me. My own threat visible, I lifted up the deadweight and dropped it over the table with a graceless thud.

  Raktkalis knowingly taunted the lethargic limb. Green protrusions wasted no time ineffectually lashing out. Sluggishly, but relentlessly. Man caught the dangerous claw and forced it away under the thumbs. I could tell the alien arm remembered its tormentor and was bent on exacting vengeance. And yet here I was, just sitting like an absolute fool at his table. Did I need to lose my whole body to get serious, too?

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  Nodding at the vial, he spoke, “You carry that around, but hadn’t used it before. Makes me wonder…”

  Next moment, Raktkalis grabbed the meanest knife in the line-up and spun it between fingers. I recoiled, but the grip of his dominant arm was firm. Even if I struggled, there’d be an expensive mess around – and I’d still be trapped.

  Or I could just splash his crazed stare with neurotoxin. He clearly thought me incapable. Do I tell this pompous prick he’s sitting here only because I mixed up the pockets? That would only sound like an excuse.

  Raktkalis put down the toothy knife and picked up a smaller one. Speared another pre-dissected bun over my struggling claw, and spread the butter on it. His steel grasp then relaxed and I was permitted to retract a sandwich.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, pulling the bread off a confused hook.

  “So, they’ve given you superior hearing, but not much else,” Raktkalis seamlessly got back to business. His deduction was irritatingly on point, regardless of my vagueness. I didn’t comment. It benefitted me more if he thought I had several yet unseen secrets in my bag of tricks. “Is that why you’ve left them, too?”

  The bite got lodged in my dry throat. He sure was the king of tough questions.

  Did I even mention that? I thought he still assumed I was part of them. I was now eager to get back to discussing the Order in general terms. Handled my near-death experience with dignity and cawed, “Partially, my loh-rd.”

  I don’t know why I was being truthful. I waited to be pressed for the details I wouldn’t speak. The lord was still chewing, so I decided to move the conversation into safer waters, “Finest disciples will have ways to influence the environment. Plunging everything into darkness, or drowning a room.”

  Just like the wild beasts he fought often. Perhaps that wasn’t such a big deal to him.

  I was about to suggest that the sniper might belong to a different faction, possibly military, but my amateurish distraction did not work. The lord with piercing gaze was not dissuaded from pursuing an injured calf, “Do you resent your new hearing, then?”

  I resent this surprise interrogation.

  “Noh,” I admitted. Since this inquiry wasn’t getting dropped anytime soon, I explained, “I reh-sent deh chances oh survival.”

  Not only it took a skilled surgeon, but the implants didn’t always agree with their new hosts too. Invasive life forms were of a completely different makeup, for one. Sometimes it meant a simple death; other times the affixed organism kept on ceaselessly changing the defenceless human.

  “These finest disciples must be far and few in between.” The guess was on-point. Raktkalis went on making accurate assessments, “They’re not savages, then.”

  Given the prevalence of modifications within the Assassin Order, at first glance it did seem they could hail from the savage independent places. Environments that mutated, adapted naturally. Some creatures exacted biochemical manipulation onto all living things within their territory, for example.

  But, no. Their surgical intervention, the need to control the result to the point of killing the subject, have us remain visibly human meant the Order was very much based within the civilised parts.

  “Tell me, what place harbours this peculiar group?”

  “Ihz not like that…”

  Had it been this simple, I’d have given this dangerous individual an address and disappeared.

  “Not in this region?” low rasp caressed the inside of my skull.

  I shook my head but realised I’ve been out of loop for years. Never really in it, as a child. Added, “They might be.”

  Having finished my sandwich, I sat tensely and waited for the physical manifestation of displeasure, brought forth by my glaring inadequacy. I was prepared to bolt. There was an entire table between us, it would give me a precious second of head start.

  Raktkalis didn’t seem to be wrestling with his limited patience and just remarked, “For a so-called assassin organisation they’re surprisingly difficult to get a hold of.”

  “They… they’re not t-that.” A common misconception. So much so, they were synonymous with it. However, reality was somewhat different. “T-they choose who t-toh work with and which rec-quests to t-take even then.”

  “Then that’s just interference from foreign lands. Who could they be backing now?” he pondered out loud.

  I coughed softly to interject the precious rumination, “It might not be that. They could be in the process of choosing.”

  Raktkalis smirked at my misguided optimism. His following words hinted they’ve already chosen. Incorrectly.

  “Visit me in Pliena. I’ll show you what I do to my enemies.”

  Alarming sentence, especially spoken in that tone. Yet a shiver raised up my fine hairs.

  “Youh c-cauh-ght soh-meone?” I exclaimed in a fuller voice and made myself cringe. Why was the bastard barraging me with the inquiries, then? He had a perfectly fine prisoner to squeeze for answers. Cross-checking?

  “Yes, few weeks ago,” he waved to dismiss my enthusiasm. That explained his increased sense of self-preservation. “Not a big talker. I am actually quite impressed. Never seen anything like it.”

  Should I dispel the mystique? Had to be due to the numbed nerves, although the mental fortitude of anyone in Raktkalis’s care was their own business. Trait encouraged and cultivated within the Order, but nevertheless. It was impossible to work with something that was never there.