Decision time again, but this one was an easy one – Sloan was already out of the bed and through her cell’s door (lesson number 48 from Gilna: when imprisoned by yourself, pick the lock as soon as there are no witnesses and keep your cell door unlocked at all times because you never know when you will need to make a quick egress) before the thought of other ideas even crossed her mind. She discarded them the instant they arrived and focused on her task.

 

Fortunately, she had the same darkness Tihwen’s assassin was relying on and said assassin’s attention was focused on their quarry. Sloan slipped into Tihwen’s cell as the figure shifted the screen out of the way.

 

Sloan saw at a glance she wasn’t going to have quite enough time – the assassin’s dagger would reach its mark a solid half second before Sloan could get there, which was forever in assassin time. She would have to take a risk.

 

As the figure stepped to the bed, dagger held ready, Sloan grabbed the carving knife from the desk and said, “Sorry, I need him alive.”

 

This had the intended effect – the assassin whirled as Sloan took the two steps between them and plunged the carving knife at the figure’s neck.

 

It was a close thing. The assassin was quick, nearly as quick as Kira had been, but Sloan could see their attack, where they could not see hers. It gave her just enough warning to be able to sidestep. As the carving knife buried itself in the figure’s neck, she felt the dagger graze her ribs. The assassin was good – even in the pitch black, they had nearly scored a fatal blow – and she feared for a moment the short carving knife might not be enough, but it had done its job. Sloan barely had the wherewithal to catch the black dagger in her other hand before it could clatter against the stone as the figure crumpled to the ground.

 

The snoring stopped and Tihwen’s eyes popped open. He took in a deep breath as his eyes cast about in the darkness seeking something to latch onto and Sloan quickly clamped her hand over his mouth.

 

“Shhh.” She waved her other hand in a shushing movement, too late realizing it was still holding the dagger, so it probably looked more like she was making a stabbing motion as she hissed, “It’s okay, it’s just me. Your cell neighbor.” Then again, he probably couldn’t see her or her other hand in the pitch-black prison, so hopefully he hadn’t noticed. She flipped the dagger around so its blade hugged her forearm. “I’m going to turn on your lamp but I need to know you aren’t going to yell out. Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. Please nod to tell me you understand.”

 

He looked very confused and frightened, but after a moment he nodded. Sloan nodded back, then lifted her hand. When he immediately sucked in a breath, ready to call out, she slapped it back down.

 

“SHHH! Someone tried to kill you and we don’t know if the guards had a part in the attempt, so we don’t want them here right now. You want to live, don’t you? You want to see your snowberry bushes again? Yes? Good. Then for love of all that is divine, do not make any loud sounds!”

 

His expression and his nod seemed a little more controlled, so Sloan slowly lifted her hand again. This time he did not seem ready to call out, so she took two careful steps away, ready to rush forward again should he seem about to do something stupid.

 

Fortunately, he appeared to have regained some of his senses – he simply stared at the area where she had been standing while clutching the sheets of his bed in white-knuckled double fists.

 

When, a moment later, Sloan had found and turned up the small oil lamp, spilling the first light into the area, his gaze snapped to her then to the body that lay on the floor between them, and his eyes widened anew. Sloan tensed, ready to rush forward again, but he kept his shaky voice low.

 

“Who is that? Who are you?”

 

“Good questions. While I try to find answers, get up and gather anything you might want to keep from here.” She knelt next to the assassin as she spoke. “Small portable things. Not the dragon statue, for instance. We’re going to need to travel fast and light.” She turned the body over and pulled the hood from the figure’s head and couldn’t stop a gasp from escaping.

 

“You know who that is?” Tihwen peered down from the bed. He hadn’t moved an inch.

 

“Yes. Her name was Mishi. You are a very lucky man. But you won’t be for long if you don’t get out of that bed.”

 

As he grumbled (quietly) and climbed out of the bed, Sloan took a moment to stare at Mishi’s empty eyes.

 

“Who was sloppy this time?” She murmured the words, but knew, even as she said them, that they were false. Had they been on equal footing (sighting?), Sloan knew she would have lost their brief struggle. Only her strange new ability to see in the dark had given her the win. Though it turned out not to have mattered, in the long run, she had been right to ask Trendil to kill Mishi the last time.

 

Well, one concern she would not have to deal with this time. That was a relief.

 

Naturally Mishi had not brought much of use with her, though the dagger was of very high quality, of course, and her pouch of thieves’ tools was worth more to Sloan than a fair amount of coin would have.

 

It took Tihwen’s help to get Mishi’s body to Sloan’s cell, another reminder that things were back to the beginning. In her previous life, her training had given her the strength to move bodies but her orphanage body was weak. She swiftly traded clothes with Mishi then tucked her into the cot, blanket pulled up over the dead woman’s face.

 

“What about me?” Tihwen glanced around nervously. “Won’t they notice I’m gone?”

 

“Your screen will keep them from noticing for a time. But it depends on whether they knew you were going to die. Come on, let’s find out.”

 

She took his hand to lead him through the (to him) impenetrable dark until they reached the door to the exit, then Sloan whispered, “Stay here,” before using the key on the door and slipping through.

 

The guard was fast asleep at his post, slumped, drooling, and lightly snoring. That answered that – the guards had not been in on it. Sloan motioned Tihwen through then led the way to the small armory.

 

“We’ll dress in guards’ outfits then walk out of here. Although I don’t see any women’s sizes.”

 

Tihwen snorted as he scowled at the uniforms. “They’re so unkempt! And of course there aren’t any women’s sizes – there are no women in the guard.”

 

“What?”

 

“There are no…”

 

“Never mind, it doesn’t matter. I’ll make do. Get dressed. No, put it on over your clothes. We won’t need them for long.”

 

A few minutes later, two helmeted guards stepped out of the prison into the Riften night and made their way through the streets, then exchanged nods with the bored attendants as they were let through the hidden postern that Sloan was relieved still existed, and into the wide free world beyond.

 

 

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