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"Pointless," Shadowthrone declared. "A complete waste of time. Unless ... ?"
"No. We agreed."
Shadowthrone sniffed. "Oh, very well then. A mere suggestion. If you want to do all the hard work yourself, who am I to object? Get yourself killed, for all I care. Who would even miss you?"
At least three people - or so I would like to think. Cotillion sighed. Of course, it is very well possible that I am flattering myself in two of those cases. "I'll give her your best, shall I?"
"Don't be disingenuous. That one is very much yours."
Whose was the other one, then? Yours? "How unlike you, to counsel honesty."
"I have my moments," Shadowthrone said. "Now, go away. I want to think."
The village looked unchanged, the garden well-tended. A place where little happened that had not happened before, and would again, many times.
With luck, his arrival and departure would go unnoticed. Unwitnessed.
"I thought you'd promised never to involve her again in your plans," Crokus said. He'd been smiling when he'd opened the door, welcoming and friendly.
Neither emotion had lasted beyond the moment of recognition.
Such is the fate of gods and their former worshippers.
"I'm not here for that," Cotillion said. "Consider this more in the line of a social visit."
"You happened to be in the neighborhood and decided to drop by for tea?" Crokus sounded skeptical.
"I wouldn't mind tea."
Crokus muttered something. "Fine. It's not as if I could stop you, anyway. She's in the backroom."
"My thanks."
No welcoming smile here. If anything, the look Apsalar gave him was ... assessing, Cotillion decided. Searching.
After a handful of heartbeats, her shoulders, which had tensed at his entrance, relaxed. Cotillion wondered what she had read on his face. Perhaps nothing. Perhaps she had simply noted the absence of any guilt or discomfort and drawn her conclusion from that.
Mine, indeed. Although that word would seem to fail to address the other side of that particular coin.
"A social visit?" she asked.
Well. Or possibly she has simply listened in on my conversation with her young man.
"Is that really so hard to imagine?" To Surly, they had promised a kingdom, only to have her claim an empire. And would you not have done the same in her position, Shadowthrone? Ambition has ever driven you - and we made it easy for her, did we not? We all but put her on the path.
Which begs the question: is Apsalar's path her own, or is it only more manipulation?
Apsalar shrugged. "Crokus seems to think so."
"And you?"
"I know you," she said simply.
There seemed little Cotillion could say to that. He might claim to know her in return, but it would not be quite as true. He might point out that she only possessed part of his memories, that her knowledge of him was inherently flawed, coloured by what she had forgotten or chosen to forget to remain sane, and capable of living the life she did now, the life she had chosen for herself - assuming the choice had been hers.
"I believe Crokus may be making some tea."
"Yes." She gestured for him to precede her.
He wondered if either of them would mention the knives, the clear purpose of the room he was leaving. Something else it would be better to remain unwitnessed by the others who lived in this village.
Crokus made an admirable effort to rally, then gave up and left to 'do some gardening'.
Cotillion saw no reason to suspect this claim to be untrue. "Things seem well."
"Better, now that he's accepted that he's not much of a fisherman." Apsalar smiled.
And now that you've accepted that you will always be an assassin? Though who there would be to kill in a village this small was beyond him. "You're happy, then?"
"Content," Apsalar said. Her tone suggested it was close enough. "And you?"
Cotillion shrugged. "The same, I suppose. Things are in motion. Plans are being made as we speak. We'll have to wait and see how they pan out."
"I don't believe Shadowthrone is capable of being content. Of saying 'enough'. He'll always want more."
"That hardly makes him unique." Promise someone a kingdom and they'll help themselves to your empire. Promise someone to leave them alone and - what? Are they even anything alike at all, other than by their involvement with us?
"You're different. You might have settled for being known as the best assassin in the world."
"Perhaps," Cotillion allowed. "Once."
"You felt bad for twisting a child's arm to make him tell you something once," Apsalar said.
"That was a long time ago."
"Yes," Apsalar agreed. "You learned."
Is that what I did? Cotillion supposed that it was true enough that he hadn't felt any need to repeat that particular action. Still, should any value or moral judgment be attached to that?
Give any man or woman a chance to profit at the expense of another, and how many of them would refrain? How many are virtuous for lack of opportunity rather than by the purity of their heart? And what's so great about purity of heart, anyway? What's innocence, except another word for ignorance?
Apsalar turned her eyes to the ceiling, as if she knew what he was thinking.
Cotillion sighed. "I learned," he admitted. "Some days, it seems I still am."
"I know the feeling," Apsalar said.
Oh. Not training with any specific ... victim? target? in mind, then. Merely to keep in shape, to ensure the option would remain open to her, should she choose to avail herself of it.
"Anything I can help with?" He could hear Shadowthrone's objections and complaints already. 'As if we don't have enough on our plate already! And what's the girl to you, anyway? What's she going to do for us in return, hm? What use is she to our schemes?'
"No. Thank you." A beat. "And you?"
Not yet. Not never, though. Cotillion might admit that much, if only to himself.
She probably knew. Possibly, it was even why she kept up her training. To be ready, when he decided that promises were only words, after all, and words were cheap.
She'll do it for me. Cotillion shook his head. For me. How did any god stand their worship? Shadowthrone, is this why you picked a madman as your High Priest? To prevent yourself from feeling like this?
They drank the rest of their tea in silence.
"You're not taking her?" Crokus sounded half-surprised and half-suspicious.
"I made a promise," Cotillion said. Crokus grimaced. Ah. 'Don't be disingenuous.' Unexpectedly good advice. He sighed, annoyed with himself. "As I told you, that was not the purpose of my visit."
"One day, though." Crokus swallowed. "I love her, Cotillion. I don't want to lose her again. It's nothing against you, I just ... "
"Go with her, then. If she feels as you do, she won't object - at least, not too much."
"As easy as that," Crokus said.
She'll need you, lad. As Shadowthrone and I needed one another. Not all partnerships need be between equals - in fact, the best ones never are. That's what makes them work.
"As easy as that."
"Another promise," Crokus said. "I'll hold you to that one, Cotillion."
Good.
"I've changed my mind, you'll be pleased to hear," Shadowthrone declared upon his return to their shadowy current dwelling. "What need for a mere mortal, albeit one of such ability? Let her play house with some country bumpkin if such is her desire, eh?"
"In fact, Crokus is - "
" - a name wholly unknown to me," Shadowthrone said. "Crokus? Who's Crokus? As unfamiliar a name to me as the girl's. What was her name again? No, do not remind me - it will come back to me, and if not, well, what matter? See how boundless my generous concern for your happiness is."
Cotillion stared at his companion.
Shadowthrone squirmed. "Well, really. Must you always suspect me of ulterior motives? And what if I have any? Can you doubt that they are less than pure, even noble? Only consider: a brilliant, skilled assassin with all your skills as well as a few of her own. Doing our bidding. Serving our cause. Worming her way into our confidence. Stealing all our secrets until the day she feels she might do better without us around to hobble her ambitions. A sad, familiar story, yes?"
"Apsalar isn't - "
Shadowthrone shook a bony finger at him. "She will be. She has the potential to be. At the least, at the very least, she might find herself an object of worship. Another patron of assassins - as if they need one." Shadowthrone snorted. "Assassins! As much use as rope."
"You're in a nostalgic mood, I see."
"Worry not. It will pass soon enough. In fact, yes, it's gone already. Now, as I was saying, I think it's high time we go and kill someone."
"Who?"
"Oh, must I do all the thinking in the partnership? Honestly. Who, he asks me. As if I have the least idea. Someone who deserves killing, obviously. Someone who's in our way. Come now, does that not narrow it down enough for you?"