The Assassin

  The white bird of prey on her shoulder shifted its weight, its talons digging into her leather shoulder pad. Asta raised a finger and gently stroked the kite’s feathery head, she understood the uncomfort of being trapped within the foreboding walls of the city.
  The sliver of moon glared down from overhead providing the only light in the shadowed streets.  Asta quickened her pace, she wasn’t far now and she never kept someone waiting.
  She took a last turn and descended down a set of dilapidated stairs. She ducked into a darkened doorway, pausing as she noticed a trail of soft footprints in the sandy ground.
  So she had enough sense to arrive early.  Asta quickly ran her fingers through her shaft of arrows plucking one from the shaft and fitting it to her bow. It always paid to be prepared. She started down the long hallway of the building. She frowned, something didn’t feel right about this.
  The hallway stopped and another set of stairs leading upward came into view. She ran up, her leather boots made a slight padding sound against the cool stone steps. Her kite let out a small squawk.
  “Shhh, Isra, quiet.” Asta crooned and once again the kite settled down.
  Finally, she came to a small ceilingless room that revealed the wide sky. A small lamp sat on the floor, illuminating the doorway from which she stood. Asta quickly moved out of the light.
  “You’re late,” A soft voice murmured from the corner. Asta watched carefully as a beautiful young woman stepped into the light. The woman wore her raven black hair in an elaborate knot on her head. Jewels were nestled in her hair, reminding Asta of stars in the night sky. Gold tattoos swirled gracefully up her bare arms and she wore only a silk midnight blue gown with a pair of impractical golden sandals. Well, Asta thought, she is definitely not trying to hide her status.
  The girl turned back around and stared out at the city.
  “I came when I could, Princess,” Asta said, “I’m sorry if it displeases you.”
  The woman whipped around. She’s surprised, even though any fool could see the nine tattooed at the base of her neck.
  “I demand the proper respect, assassin,” She spat, “or you may find yourself trying your snide comments on the prison guards.”
  Anger tore through Asta but she swallowed it, “I am sorry, highness, I did not mean to offend.”
  Princess Zahrah acknowledged this with a slight nod of her head.
  Asta let the tension from her bow, wiping the smooth and precisely sharpened arrow head on her shirt, “May I ask who you need to be,” she paused inspecting the tip, “put to rest?”
  For the first time the Princess seemed uncertain and a deep pain seemed to cross her face but it quickly disappeared and a scary calm settled. “The Princess Caji.”
  “Your sister?” Asta asked, blinking, “I heard she was captured. She may already be dead.”
  “Then I want you to find her and make sure she is.” Whatever softness in her voice was gone replaced with a cold fierceness that made Asta shiver.
  “Do you have any other information?” Asta asked.
  “Yes,” Zahrah paused, “my sist--the young princes--is... Tricky. You’d be well advised to not underestimate her.”
  “Understood.” Asta said, she definitely did not have a good feeling about this.
  “Then I think we are done here. I want word in three weeks and her found not much later.” She handed her a small pouch. “This should pay for any expenses on the journey as well as a small compensation. There will be much more and grander rewards when you return. And this,” she held out a small square of expensive paper, “is a picture of the Princess.”
  Asta shook the bag, picked out a gold coin, examined it and then put it back in the bag. Assured that they were in fact real before taking the image as well and placing both in her pack.
  “It’s been a pleasure,” Asta said then put her bow back on her shoulder and arrow in her sheath. Zahrah watched as Asta slung her legs over the wall and started to climb down. Isra let out a loud cry into the night letting Asta know how she felt. Asta lifted her heavy bird from her shoulder, the black-shouldered kite opened her wings and flew into the night sky.
  Asta sighed, wishing she too could open her wings and leave her problems behind. Even if for only a little while. She never liked dealing with royalty, they were too worried about losing their power and too eager to gain more. But the purse was large so she’d do it.
  She let herself drop the remaining feet and began to head down the streets again. She dodged the drunks who slouched, passed out, on the streets. A small smile spread across her face as a young street urchin picked their pockets.
  She called up to the sky a series of clicks. A small white dot in the dark sky steadily grew larger until Isra returned. Contentedly, the bird settled back on her shoulder. Asta reached into her pocket and abstracted a small piece of pigeon meat. Isra ate it in a swift motion and let out a satisfied chirp.
  Asta withdrew the small picture of the Princess. A young girl of fourteen grinned back at her, a mischievous glint in her dark eyes. She was plain compared to her stunning sister but there was no doubting their resemblance.
  Asta couldn’t help wishing that she had not taken on this job but as the Princess Caji continued to smile up at her she knew there was no turning back.