The Killing Grounds Read online

  By the time Alara reached the Quartermaster’s office there were already several boys lined up outside in the hallway, dressed in the same black fatigues that were standard issue to all apprentices. She’d seen the large group of young hopefuls several times over the last few years, but she’d never considered that one day she would be within their ranks. A tall blonde boy stood at the back of the line and Alara slipped in behind him. Looking down the line she could see the other four boys, but they stood to attention and paid no mind to anyone else around them. The Quartermaster’s office door was closed, and the only sound Alara could hear was her own breathing. She reached out with her mind and tried to scan the inside of the room, but there was a ward on the office and she respected the warning enough not to push her luck, and pulled back. There was nothing for it but to stand in line and wait her turn. She felt totally out of place in her spotter's khakis and shuffled from one foot to the other nervously. Maybe she could get some rest while she waited. She’d spent a lot of time learning the art of meditation in her first year at the Arbitrators Guild, and had used the skill to keep up with her studies. The exam periods had been hard on her, four exams a day for ten days with only a two hour break in between each test. She was broken and battered by the end of the exams, and if it hadn’t been for her skill at meditating to recover her energy, she may have failed and been forced back onto the city streets.

  When the Quartermaster marched down the corridor ignoring the apprentices, another fifteen boys had joined the queue behind her all standing to attention and in silence. She hadn’t bothered to try and engage any of them, but she could feel the disdain emanating from them as they examined her from behind. She felt like turning around and giving them a piece of her mind, but the thought of taking on fifteen assassins singlehandedly didn’t appeal to her sense of staying alive. She reached out with her mind but found no other Artists amongst them. The Quartermaster screamed for the first boy to enter and all the boys took one step forward, knocking Alara clumsily along with them. The boy was in the room for less than thirty seconds before he marched out of the room with a look on his face that could kill. He stormed past Alara muttering something incomprehensible as he left. The next boy entered the room and the queue stepped up, this time Alara was ready and managed to step in time. Thirty seconds later he marched out of the room with the same look as the first boy and stormed away. The queue stepped up again and Alara began to panic. Her palms were sweating and she started to shuffle her feet. The tall blonde boy in front of her turned to look at her; he had soft blue eyes and a friendly face. “Gideon,” he said and offered her a hand. She took his hand and bowed to him. “No need for that,” he said. “First time?”

  “Yes,” she replied sheepishly.

  He smiled and resumed facing the office. The next boy then exited, his nose bloodied and his uniform ruffled. He wiped a hand across his face to remove the blood, sniffed deeply and spat at the floor, just missing Alara’s feet. She raised her head angrily and glared at him. The boy pulled back from her, calmed himself and nodded his head in an apologetic way before shuffling back down the corridor and out of view. Alara turned back to Gideon, but he had already gone into the room and she was next in line. She stepped forward to take his place and felt the rest of the line step up behind her.

  Gideon had been in the office for ten minutes and Alara was getting more and more nervous as the time ticked on. She twisted and rolled her neck hoping for a loud crack to release the pressure between her vertebrae, which normally helped calm her body, but she was too tense and pain coursed down her back. She grimaced and concentrated on her breathing exercises.

  “Don’t worry girl,” the boy behind her said. “He never issues bounties to two apprentices in a row, and you’ll be out in less time than it takes me to move the queue forward.”

  She heard the rest of the boys snigger behind her, but chose to ignore them. She tried instead to meditate, but found it was impossible. Thoughts of what might lie behind the Quartermaster’s door played tricks with her mind, and it was a full hour before Gideon left the office with a fist full of bounties. He held them aloft and the boys applauded him half-heartedly. He smiled at Alara and made his way back up the corridor.

  “Come girl!” the Quartermaster bellowed from behind the door and Alara steeled her resolve for the second time that day and entered the room.

  The Quartermaster sat behind a teacher’s desk, drumming his fingers on the wooden top. He was examining papers in front of him. “Sit,” he commanded. Alara pulled out the metal framed chair and sat opposite him. She noted that he was not dressed in the usual black of the assassins, but instead looked rather handsome in army fatigues. His eyesight remained firmly on his desk and he spoke in a harsh factual manner. “What do you want girl?”

  “My Lord, Lord Osari sent me to collect five bounties, my Lord,” she mumbled through a bottom lip quivering with nerves.

  “I am no one’s Lord girl, my title is Quartermaster and I expect to be addressed as such.”

  “Yes Quartermaster,” she blurted, half saluting.

  “Sit still girl.” He lifted his head to look at her and she felt him try to enter her mind. She pushed back, trying to stop the mental examination, but pain shot through her head breaking her concentration, and she found herself at his mercy. She was half glad to find another Artist, but the other half of her feared for her life. The examination seemed to last for hours, but she knew that it was only a matter of seconds before he broke her gaze and looked back to his stack of papers. He grunted as he sorted through the bounties on his desk and pushed five sheets of paper toward her.

  “Five bounties, all pro bono as requested.” Their eyes met again, his burning into hers. “Next time we meet do not try to fight me, understood?”

  “Yes Lo...Quartermaster.”

  “I’m sure that you have many questions Alara, but all I can offer you is advice. Every boy in the hall outside is an enemy, and all of them are capable of killing you without a second thought. You are safe within the walls, but outside you will be fair game. And believe me when I tell you that they will try to kill you.” She nodded solemnly. “There are thirty-two apprentices, but only five of you will be accepted as members, the rest will be retired to the mines. They all have two years’ worth of training, and you will only have this one year to catch up with them and surpass them if you hope to contend for a position here. Use your gifts whenever you can and never hold back or you could find yourself without a head.” Her eyes were beginning to sting and water but she refused to blink in the face of his stare. “Now leave me to deal with the rest of these cretins.”

  Without another word she carefully placed the bounty papers in the folds of her shirt and stood to leave. She decided not to share the fact that she had been successful in her meeting with the rest of the apprentices. In fact, she would share nothing with any of them. As she sauntered back down the corridor more than one boy noticed the swagger in her step and sneered at her as she passed. Finally she reached the stairs that led back to Lord Osari’s quarters and she let slip a small smile. This didn't last long as the depressing thought hit her that even though she had been successful in her meeting, within the folds of her shirt lay death sentences for five human beings. Her mind raced with questions again. Was she capable of taking these lives? The papers felt heavy, like a burden she didn’t know whether she was willing to bear or not. She took them out and read each page, folded them neatly and placed them back into her shirt, gritted her teeth and went to report back to her new master.

  Osari was seated at his study desk when Alara knocked on the door. “Enter,” he commanded. She closed the door behind her and crossed the floor to stand before him. “Well?” he asked. She handed him the papers and took a step back, waiting for his command. He looked through the bounties one by one, grumbling and snorting as he went.

  Alara was already aware that all five had committed the crime of the rape of a minor, and that she would have no problem sending them
to the mines via a resurrection spell. As she watched him a quizzical look crossed his face. Had her personal feelings gotten in the way again? Was she wrong in her assumption that they were evil people and that they deserved their fates? Had she missed something in the bounty reports that Lord Osari had picked up on?

  “So I assume that you have no issues with sending these deviants to the mines?”

  “I have no issues Lord,” she responded quickly.

  “And how do you intend to do this girl?” he asked.

  She opened her mouth to answer but nothing came out. Goddamn it!

  “Indeed,” he said. “No weapons and no training, but because these people meet with your personal disapproval you would rush into the world and probably get killed trying to gain some misaligned revenge.”

  His comments were starting to annoy Alara. They were true and he wouldn't even allow her to discuss them. Damn it! “Forgive my enthusiasm my Lord.”

  “There is a distinct difference between enthusiasm and stupidity girl, but one normally goes hand in hand with the other and often leads to death. Now think, why did I send you to the Quartermaster on this errand?”

  She gave herself a moment to think before answering. “You wanted me to see what my competition looked like first hand. Out of the thirty-one other apprentices I saw twenty, leaving eleven others somewhere on the grounds.”

  “I am quite adept at maths girl, but you are correct in your deductions. What else did you learn?”

  “None I have come into contact with are Artistically gifted,” she refused to say the word magical in front of him, “but that doesn’t mean the others aren’t.” He waved for her to continue on with her thought process. “All but one had an air of superiority about them as if they thought that they were special somehow. The other seemed more grounded and...” she searched for a word that explained Gideon, “subtle?” she offered.

  “Subtle?”

  “Yes Lord, the others were brash and hateful even though we were all there for the same reason. He was subtle as he went about his business quietly and efficiently, and even though he did showboat to the rest of the boys when he was successful, I have a feeling that this was tradition rather than personal choice.”

  “And how did they react when you waved these bounties in the air?” he asked sighing.

  “They have no idea I was successful Lord, I have no need to showboat for the likes of them. I am not part of their gang.”

  He laughed, “You really believe that they didn’t know you collected these bounties?”

  She smiled, “I’m sure they knew Lord, but our business is none of theirs.”

  “And the Quartermaster?”

  Lord Osari obviously had knowledge of the Quartermaster's gift so she had to be honest in her response. “He searched my mind Lord, and I was unable to stop him from doing so.”

  “As I suspected, it seems that you need to improve that side of your gift girl.” His demeanour had changed back to its normal storm cloud level.

  “Yes Lord Osari.”

  “Report to the barracks, get rid of those ridiculous spotter's sacks, and meet me in the courtyard in two hours. We have a meeting with Manak before we collect on the first of these bounties today girl, and don’t be late!” He dismissed her with a wave of his hand.

  She turned and left the room, quietly pleased that she hadn’t been berated for her observations of the boys. Pondering her future, she ran down the seemingly endless corridors of the Killing Grounds, careful not to barge into anyone as she went. The last thing she wanted to do was to make more enemies today, thirty-one was enough to worry about.

  The rest of the apprentices had already left the barracks by the time Alara reached them, and she was out of breath and exhausted from the last twenty-four hours. The lack of sleep weighed heavily on her, and all she wanted to do was find an empty bunk and collapse for an hour before readying herself for the journey into the city to meet Manak. She’d passed by the laundry and picked up two sets of black fatigues, and changed quickly in an alleyway behind the laundry before dumping her old spotter’s uniform in a trashcan. The black scarf that all assassins wore on their right bicep was now wrapped around her head as a bandana that covered her auburn hair.

  The dorm area where all the apprentices bunked down was quiet, and the only empty bunk was at the end of the room closest to the door and against the wall. A wave of relief flowed through her body when she knew that her back would be against something solid as she slept. A large metal footlocker stood closed at the foot of her bed. Alara opened it and packed her belongings neatly in the bottom and set a ward on the lock to stop anyone prying into the little that she owned. That should stop any nosy bastard from snooping whilst I am out with Lord Osari. She relaxed onto the mattress and conjured some dry bread and water, she knew the bread had no nutrients but it would fill her stomach until she could figure out how to get some real food. It seemed like days since she last ate, and her stomach ached to be fed. She banged her head once on the hard pillow to mark her internal clock for one hour's sleep and closed her eyes, but sleep never came, and after an hour of tossing and turning she climbed out of her cot and did some stretching exercises to loosen her aching limbs.

  She felt a presence before seeing the boy enter the room and was pretending to tidy her cot as he approached.

  “So I see you found yourself a cot and have settled in?”

  She recognised Gideon’s voice from their meeting earlier. “Yeah, just like home,” she said jokingly.

  He smiled, “The others told me you collected five bounties on your first attempt with the Quartermaster. That’s impressive.” He clapped his hands in a show of appreciation.

  “You don’t need to do that Gideon,” she said flatly. He looked confused. “The applause, it’s not necessary and it’s kind of condescending.”

  “It’s the way we do things here Alara.”

  “How do you know my name?” she said alarmed. She hadn’t given her name to anyone but Lord Osari. The Quartermaster knew after he scanned her mind, but they were the only ones.

  “I make it my business to know everyone that comes into these barracks Alara. It’s my job.” He pointed to a black pin that was almost invisible to the naked eye against the backdrop of black fatigues. “I’m the A1 here. I’m responsible for everything that happens in this dorm. Who do you think made that cot available? When an apprentice appears out of nowhere in the middle of the year, dressed in the khakis of a spotter, standing in line outside of the Quartermaster's office ahead of most of the rest of the class, certain questions arise. It didn’t take me long to ask around the Killing Grounds to find out what’s going on.” He raised an eyebrow at her and smiled again.

  She felt naked and as though someone was stalking her. “I see,” she managed. “I have to leave and meet Lord Osari. Please excuse me.”

  “Wait.”

  Expecting a lecture on being careful, and a snarky comment about him looking after the new girl, Alara was surprised at the information he gave her.

  “Meal times are three to four am and nine to ten pm. Your lesson plans and training orders will be given to you by your Lord, the baths and head are communal, oh and there are three other girls.” He pointed to the three beds to the right of Alara’s, and made his way to the back of the dorms.

  Strangely disappointed at the fact that he showed no interest in looking after her, she quickly chastised herself for the thought. Gideon was just doing his job. And in any case he was the enemy. Even with pretty blue eyes and a rank that she would aspire to he was still an enemy, wasn’t he?

  Three:

  The freezing rain ran down Alara’s face and drenched her new fatigues as she waited for Lord Osari outside the front entrance of the Killing Grounds. She leant against a street light that burned brightly, even though it was daytime in the city. The thought of using her skills to keep herself dry had crossed her mind, but that could have drawn attention to her, so she chose to let the rain soak her to the sk
in. Several couples passed her locked arm in arm, hidden under wide umbrellas, and she could feel their fear when they noted her black uniform as they hurried past the Killing Grounds. The building itself was one of the oldest in the city. It had been a spectacular sight in its heyday before the war, but now it stood tattered and charred from the pounding the city had taken during the blitz. Many parts of the city were still out of bounds to the public and unexploded bomb signs littered the empty streets. She marvelled at how the hotel had survived the attacks at all. The ABC executives had been holed up within its walls until they had been killed by the rebel forces. Those deaths had signified the end of the war and the hotel had become the rebel base where the Treaty of Twenty-Four had been signed, and a brittle peace descended on the city and the world in general.

  Five years later the pole shifts happened and all hell broke loose on the world again. When the panic subsided and life began to renew itself, the assassins had commandeered the hotel for their own ends.

  Lord Osari exited the building via the huge double front doors and made his way down the stairs and onto the street. Alara watched as he moved with cat-like grace down the steps, taking them two at a time. She listened for his footfalls but heard nothing over the rain. He looked her up and down but showed no sign of whether her appearance met his exacting standards or not. As his feet hit the sidewalk he headed left and Alara fell in step beside him.

  “Black suits you, but those eyes will make you famous if you’re not careful,” he said.

  She understood it as a warning and not a compliment. She would have to do something about that, she contemplated adopting a mask but dismissed the idea as stupidity, if need be she would use a spell to cover her identity.

  “Now keep up girl.” He jogged down the street at a gentle pace but Alara had trouble keeping up with him. After ten minutes she was out of breath and panting heavily. Lord Osari on the other hand, wasn't even breathing hard. “You’re no good to me if you can’t even run girl.”