Eldritch Assassin Read online

  Eldritch Assassin

  Adam Witcher

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  A Note from the Author

  1

  Isaac rolled out of bed, rubbed sleep from his eyes, and mentally prepared himself for a day of swindling. He hadn’t been working much lately, and his supply of coin weighed more heavily on his mind than his pockets.

  Aerin still lay asleep on her bed, her long, black hair spread across her back like an ebony waterfall, pointed ears lightly parting it. He wanted to wake her, maybe see if she felt like going for another round before he left, but he thought better of it. He had a long day ahead. Besides, she looked too peaceful to disturb.

  Footsteps echoed through the hallway outside her bedroom, but he wasn’t concerned. Aerin made it very clear to the housemaids that she wasn’t to be disturbed before ten o’clock. Uninterrupted beauty sleep was her excuse, but Isaac was the real reason. They couldn’t get enough of each other. He’d stayed over every night for the past two weeks. The fact that her dad would be mortified that his precious daughter was sleeping with a human only made their lust more potent. He grinned when he imagined the scandal—mayor’s daughter beds degenerate human.

  He struggled to put his clothes on as he shook away the remnants of sleep.

  For the first two years after he’d moved to Avalour, he wondered about the right way to present himself to the public. If he dressed too poor, the elves would think he was a stain on the city. They’d find any excuse to round him up and throw him in jail. But if he dressed too fine, it was even worse. They usually saw right through his intentions. And even if they didn’t, they’d see a human who fancied himself on the social strata of elves, and nothing could be more egregious.

  In the end, he’d found it best to be modest but clean. Today, he wore a blank grey button-up shirt and burlap pants. He turned to Aerin’s mirror to inspect himself. The clothes looked fine, but he had to straighten his tousled dark hair. He examined his beard. It wasn’t too long now, but he’d have to shave it in the coming week. Elves didn’t trust beards. He’d heard some say it was because it made a man look dirty, but he knew the truth—they couldn’t grow beards themselves. Aerin loved his beard for just that reason and joked that he should let it grow to his ankles.

  His clean-cut appearance made him look out of place in Aerin’s dark bedroom—the one place she could put her macabre obsessions on full display. Black, velvet curtains lined the windows; grotesque art covered the walls. Isaac’s personal favorite piece depicted a giant, mutated baby with eight limbs rampaging through a temple. The first time he’d come to Aerin’s room, he wondered if he’d accidentally been trapped by a serial killer. Quickly, though, he was proven wrong. She’d shown that her dark fascinations were purely aesthetic.

  He slid over to her window and started to open it, but she stirred and turned to him.

  “Isaac…” Her dreamy voice pulled at him, made him want to join her back in bed.

  “Morning, sunshine.”

  “Do you have to go so early?”

  “Afraid so,” he said, sighing. “There are poor, innocent elves out there with far too many coins for their own good. They need my help.”

  “Oh, why don’t you just take something from my father?” She sat up, and the blanket dropped to reveal the curves of her perky breasts. “He wouldn’t notice if half the crap in this house disappeared.”

  Isaac laughed, charmed as usual by her bluntness.

  “Please, I’m not a monster! I should at least steal from someone whose daughter I’m not sleeping with.”

  She smiled, accenting small dimples. Perfectly white teeth gleamed in the sunlight streaming in and stood out against her jet-black bedspread.

  “And I suppose that excludes most fathers in Avalour, doesn’t it?”

  “There’s bound to be some daughter-free elves wandering around out there.” He pulled the window open. “And chances are, they have more coin anyway.”

  She giggled.

  “Have fun, my monster. Try not to get arrested or murdered horribly.”

  He stepped out the window, but then stuck his head back in.

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  * * *

  Once he was out in the alley, he pulled his shoes on and looked around. Thankfully, it was empty. A few servants walked the main streets, but none paid attention to the alley. It was still too early for much activity in the neighborhood of Whogaarden. The elves that lived here either went across town to work already or couldn’t be bothered to get up until mid to late morning, and Isaac didn’t blame them. If he had enough money to live here, there’d be no point in working. He’d sleep in too.

  His heels clicked against the immaculately clean cobblestone alleyway as he headed for the major streets. Wendig manor, Aerin’s house, was matched on the other side by an equally impressive estate, but he didn’t know who lived there. Didn’t care much either. These high society elves were all the same to him—prissy, high maintenance, and overly-concerned with being considered ‘dignified.’

  Aerin was the one exception. At first, he’d judged her to be just another princess in a dark disguise, but he’d become more impressed with her every day.

  They’d met at a tavern on the east side of Avalour—a neighborhood where humans were still looked down upon but ignored if they could afford their drinks. He was riding the high of a particularly good heist. Isaac’s pockets were flooded. His buddy Edwin lived over there, and the plan was to drink until they couldn’t walk right, then stumble back to Edwin’s place.

  Aerin caught his eye immediately. She was sitting at a corner table, listening to a lanky bard sing about some necromancer getting slain by an archer. God, in that red-lined black dress, she looked both beautiful and dangerous. He didn’t go for elves often—their attitudes often overrode their attractiveness—but in a bout of drunken courage, he’d approached her right in front of her friends. They laughed when she agreed to go have a drink with him at another table, and she played it off like a joke.

  It wasn’t though. He soon learned that she was tired of the advances of prissy elf men. She liked the danger and forbidden appeal of humans, and his status as a thief delighted her. They got along immediately. It was refreshing to meet any elf who didn’t harbor some pointless resentment against humans, let alone one so gorgeous.

  He’d taken her home that night, showed her the collection of stolen artifacts in his den, playing up the danger in acquiring each one. Being in Homoken, the human’s slummy district, gave her a thrill. They’d been seeing each other ever since.

  * * *

  Isaac walked along the cobblestone, glancing at the street cleaners as they finished their work. What Avalour lacked in human hospitality, it made up for in sheer beauty. The elves were assholes, but they’d created something special here.

  They were in the lowlands of the Kingdom of Sarcosia, so canals ran through every street. Shining gold bannisters separated them from cobblestone. The buildings featured elegant curves, usually with deep red or purple facades. Sculptures of heroic elves, dragons, and other romantic depictions adorned each building.

  He sometimes wondered if the elves who had actu
ally built this city were as bigoted as the current residents.

  He continued along the canal until he reached Dorn Square, his intended destination.

  As usual, the square was bustling. Even early, it rarely slept. Hundreds of elves milled about, going from stall to stall, buying produce, fish, spices, and other supplies from the dozens of carts set up. Many of them were shoulder to shoulder. Ambient voices and staccato thumps of butcher’s knives mixed into a dull cacophony.

  It was perfect. There was no better place to thieve in all of Avalour.

  Other humans were around, but not many. Mostly they were servants, or they sold wares to any elves willing to patronize them. A few elves furrowed their brows at his approach, but none said anything.

  Once he was fully immersed in the square, Isaac scanned the crowds for the right target.

  Two years ago, when he’d first moved to Avalour and taken up this line of work, he made a lot of mistakes, but now he knew just who to look for.

  He didn’t want to target an elf who downright hated humans. It pained him, because those would be the most satisfying to rip off, but it wasn’t worth the risk. They were on high guard the whole time. They clutched their coin purses close and scrutinized every little thing he said. To properly swindle someone, you needed an opening. A small amount of trust that he wasn’t going to get from a true bigot.

  But he also didn’t want to swindle anyone who actually liked humans. They’d be the easiest, sure, but it just didn’t feel right. They were a tiny minority, but there actually were some elves who went out of their way to patronize the human’s stalls and speak to them like dignified beings.

  What he wanted were elves that didn’t hate humans, but also didn’t respect them. The ones that thought of humans as inept dullards, too stupid and simple to ever try anything sneaky. The ones who got a little self-righteous thrill from tossing a copper piece to a human street performer.

  In a way, those elves were just as bigoted as the hateful ones, but they were also much easier to pull a fast one on. And luckily, the majority of Avalour’s citizens matched that description.

  They were also the easiest to find. He just looked for someone who grinned at him like he was a child.

  It only took five minutes to spot a proper target. An old elf with hair tucked behind his wrinkled, pointed ears. His get-up told Isaac he’d come from Whogaarden, a rare early riser. A bright purple and yellow gown that reached from his neck all the way to an inch above the ground. Dragons were embroidered along it.

  He appeared to be alone, standing at a human’s stall who sold handcrafted jewelry. Isaac casually walked up and pretended to admire some necklaces.

  “Oh my goodness,” the old elf said to the man running the stall, a squat fellow with a shaved head. “Where’s your master? He’s quite skilled.”

  “You’re looking at him,” the man said. He didn’t bother to hide the annoyance from his tone. The old elf didn’t catch it. “Been making these all my life.”

  “Well, they are just very impressive. I didn’t know your kind could make something so nice. How much for this ring?”

  The shopkeeper stroked his chin for a moment. To the elf, it probably looked like he couldn’t remember the price. Isaac knew better. The man was trying to figure out how much he could get away with charging.

  “Three silvers.”

  The elves eyes went wide.

  “Oh, my.” The elf didn’t want to admit that it sounded too expensive. Only poor folks thought things were ‘too expensive.’

  “Handcrafted,” the man said. “Been working at this trade for thirty years. Expert craftsmanship comes at a price.”

  “Well, let’s see…”

  The elf pulled a coin purse from his pocket and thumbed through it.

  “I… I don’t know if I have three silver pieces. Just gold.”

  Isaac grinned. That was his cue.

  “I can make change for you, sir.”

  The old elf turned to him, surprised. He looked a little uncomfortable, no doubt because he was outnumbered by humans.

  “Well, I… I don’t know.” His eyes betrayed distrust.

  Isaac hesitated. Maybe this wasn’t the best target, after all. But it was worth trying. He’d just have to make himself seem even simpler.

  “Oh, sir.” He put on his best submissive expression. “You see, I just want you to be able to buy it, sir. It makes us humans feel so good when elves like what we do.”

  The elf grinned. He’d said the right thing.

  “Well all right, I suppose I can’t miss an opportunity to make your day.”

  The elf pulled a gold piece from his coin purse. Isaac kept a straight face as he pulled out his own. He furrowed his brow and pretended he was having a hard time counting.

  “Okay,” Isaac said. “Do you have any silver at all? That might make it a little easier.”

  “Sure, I do have one piece.”

  “Okay, so give that to me.”

  The elf did.

  “Now I’ll give you these two silvers, and you give me that gold.”

  “All right.”

  “Then you give him those two I just gave you, and I’ll give him the silver you gave me. That’ll cover the ring.”

  Isaac locked eyes with the shopkeeper, who bit his lip and suppressed a grin.

  “Then I’ll give him the gold piece,” Isaac said. “And he’ll give me back two silver pieces, since the cost was only three silver, and there’s five silver in a gold.”

  The shopkeeper complied.

  “So now he’ll give you the original two silvers back.”

  He complied again.

  “And you can give those back to me.”

  The elf handed the two silver pieces to Isaac.

  “And now, we’re all even. You can take the ring now.”

  “I…” the elf said. The shopkeeper handed him the ring. “I’m not so sure about that. I think there might have been a mistake.”

  “No, no mistake, sir,” the shopkeeper said. “That’s the correct payment.”

  “But…”

  “Oh my goodness,” Isaac said. “You’re absolutely right, sir. You need to give me two more silver pieces. Since I broke the gold originally. Wow, sir. I really appreciate that honesty. Not every elf would be so honest with us humans. Since we’re, well… not that smart. So I really appreciate it.”

  The elf smiled and handed him a gold piece. Isaac gave him the correct change of three silvers back.

  “It’s a beautiful ring,” the elf said. “Thank you so much.”

  He strode away, scratching his head. When he disappeared into the crowd, Isaac and the shopkeeper grinned at each other.

  “You son of a bitch,” he said. “What the hell did you just pull?”

  “Don’t question it, buddy. I just made four silvers in two minutes. And you got four pieces instead of three for that ring.”

  The shopkeeper counted his coins and grinned.

  “My god, you’re right. You sneaky bastard. You should come to my stall every morning.”

  “Nah, they’d catch on eventually. Got to mix things up, you know?”

  The shopkeeper shrugged. Isaac started to walk away, whistling to himself.

  About twenty meters away, he locked eyes with an old elf woman. Huddled against a wall, she glared from the shadows and scowled. Her eyes were milky, but he could tell by the way she watched him that she wasn’t blind. Her robes were jet black, and a hood covered most of her head, the tops of her pointed ears propping it up.

  Had she caught the swindle? Surely not, Isaac told himself. She was too far away. She probably just hated humans. He gave her a shit-eating grin and kept moving.

  During the next hour, Isaac pulled off three more stunts. It was even easier than usual. Isaac couldn’t tell if he was slicker than ever, or if the elves were just easier to manipulate. They were only a week away from the Day of Hearts Festival, and the holiday had a tendency to wear away at more direct forms of prejudice
. But the underlying assumptions the elves made about humans were too deeply entrenched to shake so easily. For Isaac, it was the best of both worlds.

  After each successful trick, he saw the old elf woman again. She was following him around the square, but she stuck to the shadows. Isaac was conflicted. On the one hand, he couldn’t help but feel ecstatic at how fast his coin purse was growing, but on the other, the woman was staring daggers. He felt her gaze even when he looked away, but he kept at it anyway.

  Once he was satisfied, his pockets thoroughly lined, he prepared to leave. But his curiosity needed to be satisfied, and his vague annoyance at the old woman made him crave an answer. If she was just an old bigot, he’d at least enjoy harassing her.

  So when he locked eyes with her a final time, he made a beeline for her corner of the square. She watched him approach, her expression unchanging.

  “Hi there,” he said, faux-cheerfully, when he was close enough. “Can I help you, ma’am?”

  “Dirty, rotten, thief.” She said, her voice raspy.

  “Oh, stop. You flatter me.”

  “You’ve never done an honest day’s work in your life, have you, human?”

  “So far, I’ve managed to avoid honest work. It just sounds so boring, you know?”

  “It’s scum like you that ruin Avalour. If it were up to me, there’d be no humans at all in this city.”

  “Well, I’m sure glad it isn’t up to you then.” The conversation was already losing its appeal. Plain old prejudice was so dull. “If you don’t mind, I have more of your city to ruin.”

  He turned to leave.

  “Wait.”

  Isaac sighed.

  “Yes?

  “You want a job? An easy one, for honest coin?”

  Isaac scoffed.