It took her a good two hours to reach the residences of the drow brothers, given she was moving slowly and carefully.
The residences themselves were huge in comparison to the rest of the city. The house backed up to the interior wall of the city, spanning at least a block on its own. The gardens were overgrown and wild with plants she had never seen before, and the buildings were low and dark with strangely sharp angles. She had to wonder if the brothers had them built themselves.
Using a rope attached to a small hook, she was able to climb over the wall that kept their home private. She dropped down in the weirdly springy grass. She hated the feel of it under her feet as she hurriedly crossed the garden, jumping over a path of stones and ducking behind a tree.
Thankfully there was not a full moon, but there was enough light for her to see without being seen.
She could see a candle flickering in one of the windows, but the rest of the residence was dark.
It was not one building, but a series of smaller buildings clustered together and linked by little stone pathways. She did not have a clue where either man would be.
Deciding to try to see what was going on in the room with the candle, she flitted her way around the garden, her eyes locked on the ground, her ears sharp.
She did not trust any of the strange plants and made an effort to avoid them, just in case. She stuck to the grass, and used the trees for cover.
Inching her way around, she was finally able to see inside. She hid behind one small building set off to the side. She was able to see most of what was happening in the curtain-less room.
Drizdan was staring off into nothing, his eyes unfocused as though he were thinking hard about something.
The man wore a black shirt that remained unbuttoned, his long black hair was unbound, and his dark skin shone in the candlelight, his sharp features giving him the look of a God.
Shaking her head at the sight of him, she turned and started along the wall in the opposite direction, trying to get a layout of the house.
That room was Drizdan's, so where was Izziah's?
She could not hear anything akin to snoring, and she silently cursed the man for being so considerate of his fellow sleepers. No, this would not be that easy for her.
Deciding that she was going to have to get inside to try to hear anyone sleeping, she made her way across to the main cluster of buildings.
The main building appeared to be a cluster of twelve rooms set out in a large square formation that was divided evenly into quarters. Each quarter was divided by a path that led to a garden in the centre, and she could hear a small waterfall, leading her to think that the garden in the middle likely had no roof.
Drizdan was in the corner section closest to the city; with that in mind she reasoned that Izziah should be somewhere on the opposite side of the square. Given their personalities, it was likely that they split the buildings down the middle and each took half, giving them both about six rooms. Her issue now was, which side of the square was whose half?
Each side also had a large gate blocking access to the inner garden. She was betting that the hinges had not been oiled.
Deciding against going through one of the four gates, she opted to go up and over the building instead. She gauged that she could do that fairly easily.
Circling further away from the room she had seen Drizdan in, she found a small pile of wooden crates conveniently piled against the wall, out of the weather.
She did not linger on how handy that was; instead, she used them to help her reach the overhang of the strange roof. To her dismay, the tiles were of a strange material and they made a noise as she moved them. But she had no other option, so she moved as slowly as she dared, her body low to the tiles, making her way up and over. Lowering herself down over the other side, she slid the last few feet and cringed as the sound of rattling tiles broke the quiet of night.
***
She froze, feet braced against the roof, but nothing happened. No one came out, and no one stirred in the room below her.
Deciding she was the luckiest assassin in the world, she lowered herself down from the roof and pressed against the wall, the overhang of the roof giving her the shadow of darkness.
Inching her way along the stone path, she found a window and pressed her ear close, listening hard. Nothing. She continued on.
Scoping out her surroundings, she was momentarily shocked by the layout. In the middle of the little square garden, was a flower bed filled with flowers so similar to the colour of her eyes that she momentarily lost her train of thought. Who had planted those? Where had they found them?
They were large flowers with four big petals, four smaller ones filling the gaps between the bigger petals and a strange frill circling the black centre. They were exquisite, and the shockingly blue colour was beyond anything she had seen before.
Shaking her head to clear it, she considered her options. She could go to her left or to her right. One way would take her further along the row, the other ended in a corner and headed off at an angle to her position. From what she could tell, she was opposite and down two rooms from where she had seen Drizdan.
Realising her mistake, she pondered the size of the rooms around her and shook her head. The room she had seen Drizdan in had been large, but not that large.
She had been wrong; the rooms comprised a ring that formed the outer four walls of the complex. Inside that ring, there was one large room, meaning in total there were around twenty-four rooms—assuming none of the outer rooms were elongated and took up more space than she calculated.
The question was now: which one of those rooms was a bedroom?
Turning, she attempted to look inside the window of the large room nearby, but she was unable to see through the curtains.
Cursing, she tried to decide where to go. She was either going to find the right side of the complex or she was not.
Letting out a slow breath, she decided to try for the side she was currently on. She would try to get into the cluster of six rooms before her. If that did not work, she would try the next six to her right. Then the six to the left of her current position. After that, she was left with the cluster of rooms directly across from the one she was at then, and Drizdan was there.
Shaking her head at the irritation of it all, she sidled along to a door set into the wall. Opening it slowly, she slipped inside and turned to examine the darkness. She could not make out much, but the floor under her feet was made of wood. Stretching out her arms, she came into contact with a counter and, confirming her suspicions, she moved along to find a chair. Damn, she was in a kitchen.
Trying to map out the situation in her mind, she did not think there was enough space for there to be a corridor that separated this room from the five smaller rooms, suggesting those rooms led straight off the one she was in now.
Deciding that it was best to test that out rather than assuming, she crossed slowly and slid along the back wall until she found a door. Opening it, she was immediately hit with the smell of food.
"Damn..." she hissed and closed the door again, her mind racing.
So that corner of the complex was an eating space of some description. What were the rest?
Deciding to risk it, she headed back across the room as slowly as she dared, doing her utmost to remain silent.
Slipping out the door, she looked to her left and then headed that way. Even as she approached, she knew she was correct, the slow sound of breathing reaching her as she passed the pathway leading out to the gardens.
She could still see a slight glow coming from the windows across the way, so she knew Drizdan was occupied.
Testing the door, she was annoyed to find it locked, along with all the windows. She was starting to resent the man for his forethought in keeping himself safe.
She returned to the door and crouched down before it.
She was going to have to pick it in the dark.
***
Withdrawing her tools from under her glove, she set to work picking the stupidly complicated lock. Her eyes unfocused as she tried to go by feel.
A nerve-wracking five minutes passed, and finally the lock clicked softly. Slipping inside, she knew she had found the right room.
His scent was everywhere, warm, and rich. The sound of breathing came from deeper in the room to her left. The flooring in that room was carpet, and it muffled her steps as she approached him.
She had decided not to kill him with her usual method. Her talent was too good for that; instead, she was going to stick a knife in him, much as the elf had stuck a needle in her.
Approaching the bed, she listened to his slow breathing. She slid one knee onto the mattress. Moving fast, she pounced on top of him, straddling him and pinning his arms with her knees.
Pulling at a string in her gloves, her knives sprung free of their pockets and into her hands, both lifted high above him.
With a cry of surprise, the lights in the room burst into flame as one, illuminating the scene.
He wore no shirt, the blankets bunched up around his middle, silver hair a mess, his eyes wide in fear. She took in what she could of his room.
Everything was done in dark browns and reds, including his satiny sheets.
In a second he saw her eyes and he realised who was atop him. His cry for help turned into a scream of pain as she drove her knife into his chest.
Something hit her from the left side, and she fell to the ground.
Someone climbed on top of her, and her second knife went flying.
Drizdan had come to the rescue of his brother. He gripped her arms and pinned them to the bed. Izziah struggled to his feet, the knife sticking out of his chest.
How he was still alive? She had been sure she hit something vital.
As she attempted to buck him off, the drow laughed, wriggling himself down lower on her hips to ensure she could not. She drove her knee up into his back. He jerked forward but did not fall off her.
Gripping both her hands in one of his, he yanked the mask off her face and smiled, delighted.
"Welcome to Nordia House, princess."
She growled her response and wriggled, trying to inch him back up her hips. He obliged, comfortable at the sight of her trapped under him.
"Get off me, Drizdan," she hissed, driving her knee again into his back. He took the blow without a grunt.
"Now, now. You come into our home, try to kill one of us and then demand to be let go? Tut, tut princess. That's not how a lady behaves."
Izziah had pulled the knife from his chest, and picked up a shirt to stop the bleeding. His voice came out in a wheeze, suggesting she had stuck the blade right through his lung.
"Don't hurt her, Driz, you know she's only here because of the prince."
Drizdan's vicious grin only grew wider at that news. "So, the lich just hands her up on a platter, how kind of him. I can think of so many things I'd like to do with his precious princess." He leered at her.
"Don't be repulsive. Bind her and help me," Izziah scoffed, turning away as Drizdan rolled her onto her back and bound her hands behind her with the length of rope she had tied to her belt.
"This won't be the last time I tie you up," Drizdan whispered in her ear before he stood and moved to help bandage his brother.
Turning her head, she looked over to the two men. She had been bound wrist and ankle, though they had not bound the two together as they should have done. Immediately, she rolled onto her side to hide her hands from them, her nails going to work on the bindings.
"She got you good, Izz," Drizdan said as he tied off the bandage and adjusted it, ensuring the pad was in place over the wounds.
"Well, you saw what she did to Aelen, and he was prepared for it."
Drizdan gave a grunt and turned to look at her. Her nails had cut halfway through the bindings. She went still, not wanting them to notice.
"Help me move her, she'd be better off in my rooms. They're more secure," he said, crossing back to her.
"You can't keep her, Driz, she belongs to the lich." Izziah looked terrified at the prospect.
"No, but I can have my fun with her until he gets here. Oh, don't worry, I'm not going to do anything like that." Drizdan rolled his eyes and grabbed her ankles, lifting them.
Izziah moved behind her and lifted her up, his arms under hers. Attempting to kick Drizdan with both feet, she bared her teeth at him. He laughed.
"That's my girl, I like it when they fight."
She knew he was being crude to disturb her, but still, he was a drow and they were known to be savages.
As they left the room, she cut through the last of her bindings and made her move, jerking herself forward. She swiped at the bindings on her feet, and managed to score Drizdan's navel at the same time.
They dropped her, and she spun, crouching to see Izziah had bolted. Grinning, she went after him, Drizdan unable to give chase with his belly sliced open.
Izziah led her out into the gardens and into a small meadow. He turned and put his arms up to defend himself.
Skidding to a stop, she reached behind her to draw out two more knives.
"If you have to kill me, do it with your kiss," he said, his eyes forlorn.
Lifting a brow, she lowered her arms and considered him in the moonlight.
"Why should I let you go out like that? You betrayed me. I should be able to choose the manner in which I kill you," she replied after a breath, feeding her anger.
"It was an accident; I did not realise he was planning to do that to you. It was academic," he pleaded, too afraid to move a muscle.
"You expect me to believe such a stupid lie?" she asked indignantly.
"Please Etani, you have to believe me. I would never intentionally harm you like that." He sounded desperate. He started towards her, stopping when she backed up.
"Please, just grant me the death of my choosing. I will still be dead."
She considered that for a moment, torn. On the one hand, she had her orders, which she did not want to perform. On the other hand, if she was going to kill him, should she give him that choice?
"Very well," she said finally, sliding her knives back into their sheaths.
With a gasp, he dropped to his knees. She approached slowly, kneeling before him.
Without a word, he reached up and pushed back the hood of her cloak to see her face in the dark.
Kneeling there, she studied his face and felt the first drops of rain falling.
There had not been a single flake of snow anywhere on the compound, not one. Something had been keeping the snow out.
Shaking her head at the realisation, she jerked as he reached out and took her hand in his, clutching it tightly to himself.
Placing her free hand on top of his, she leant forward, hesitating a mere inch from his face.
His eyes were wide in fear, his fingers tight on hers. Leaning forward to meet the distance, his eyes slid shut and his lips met hers.
Doubt filled her as she tasted him on her mouth, the kiss tender and slow. She expected this must be what it was like to kiss another for no other reason than to kiss them. It was an odd sensation.
Her own eyes slid shut as she sank into the kiss, releasing the tendrils of herself that reached into him, grasping and greedy to encircle the little fiery ball of his essence.
She got only a lick of taste when something around her neck crunched in a sickening way, and then she felt nothing at all.