The Shifter King

Chapter 1: Your Mark

The smell of rain fills my lungs as I move quickly through the streets. My boots splash in the puddles and the edges of my favorite cloak turn muddy. I turn the corner and slip through the doorway of the dark bar. Inside, the smell of beer is overwhelming, but I scan the room from beneath my hood and find the man I'm looking for.

I slip through the crowd, unnoticed, using the walls and shadows to stay hidden. People are eating, laughing, some dancing to the musicians that play loudly in the corner. It's easy to blend in here and remain unseen. For this meeting, I want to be unseen.

I sit down across from the man in the corner. He also wears a dark cloak but his hood sits on his shoulders. His face is dimly lit by the candle on the table revealing a scraggly beard and tired eyes. I notice the dagger at his hip that he is trying to display without being overly obvious.

I smile at him.

“Hera," he says.

“Lucas," I respond. “Lovely spot. A favorite of yours?"

He scoffs, his hand moving to run through his beard nervously. I've known Lucas for a few years now. He's the easiest connection to my job and he brings me marks that will pay well. I'm not sure how he got into this business but I'll never ask. We both have our reasons.

Mine is gold.

“I have a new mark for you," he says instead of answering my question.

My smile broadens. “Do tell."

Lucas slips a hand into his cloak and places a note on the table. He slides the parchment over to me.

I pick it up and glance at the sigil on the seal. It isn't one I've seen before: a growling wolf circled by the phases of the moon. I break the seal and open it. The parchment is blank except for a name written in neat cursive:

King Ambrose.

I keep my face blank as I lift the paper to the candle and watch it burn.

“The king?" I ask. “Does your contact wish me dead? They want me to kill the half-wolf half-man king?" It was partly a joke. The half-wolf thing is a rumor people love to tell because the king's sigil is a wolf. Anything to make a royal seem otherworldly and worth listening to, I suppose.

Lucas looks at me, his face revealing nothing although his hand continues to run through his beard–the only tell-tale that he is nervous.

“The offer is ten pounds of gold and new papers so that you can leave after it's done without any risk."

I study him for a moment. I have no idea who his contact is. Being in my line of work means I don't ask questions. I meet Lucas who reveals my targets with no explanation. I get paid, I survive. I don't question what his contacts have against my marks or what they've done to deserve a visit from me. I didn't survive this long with my curiosity.

This, however, has my curiosity peaked against my better judgment. The king is not an easy mark. Not to mention, a death warrant if I'm caught. I consider refusing this job, but the gold is enough to feed my sister and me for years. I could even retire…pack up and take her to the countryside. We could buy a cottage and disappear from the city.

I know as much about the king as anyone. He sits up in his palace with a court of nobles and advisors. I try not to pay attention to the royals and the rich. Not while I struggle to eat and they dine on banquets every night.

The risk would be higher than any job I've done before. It's almost enough to make me refuse. If I'm caught, which is a high chance, I will be executed instantly. The palace is fortified, overflowing with guards and warriors. Getting in and out won't be easy.

I guess I've always liked a challenge…

Lucas is waiting for me to respond.

“Twenty pounds of gold, papers, and assured booked passage from the kingdom for me and my sister. I won't accept anything less," I say finally.

“Done," he responds immediately.

“Oh, did your contact give you bargaining leisure?" My eyes narrow. Who was his contact? Someone with balls to plot against the king.

Lucas shrugs. “There is a ball at the end of the week. You are to stop by here." He slides two more parchments across the table. “The seamstress has been paid; you can select any gown you like. Underneath that, is your invitation to the ball. It will get you through the door. The rest is up to you."

I take the sheets and slip them into my pocket.

“And the money?" I say.

“Ah, Hera, you know better than that," he smiles a toothy grin. “After the job is done."

“If I'm alive to tell the tale."

I don't wait for a response; I know he doesn't have one. I stand up and make my way through the crowd again until I'm outside in the pouring rain. I stand for a moment and let the raindrops fall around me, taking a breath.

I move down the street, taking a right into the market where the vendors are still out selling their wares despite the weather.

I find my sister, Althea, by the bread seller, exchanging a coin for a loaf. We've almost spent the last of our money and are running low.

I slide my arm through hers and she smiles at me.

“Your conversation is over already?" she asks.

“It was exceptionally enlightening," I smile at her as we make our way back to our room at the inn. The owner gives us a discount to stay there. It isn't much but it's a bed large enough for us to share and there are hot meals at the bar below. Althea works as a server most nights while I fulfill any jobs I can find.

The warmth of the inn bar hits us as we walk inside. I slide the cloak hood from my head and follow Althea to a table. She sits across from me, looking at me expectantly.

“Well?" she says. “How much does this one pay?"

Althea is aware of what my job entails. I don't share my marks with her or any information that would prevent her from having full deniability.

“20 pounds. Gold."

I watch her eyes widen. She's a smart girl, I have no doubt she'll put together that the mark is too large for us to stay once the job is done. For that price, she might even deduce it's the king.

“When do you leave?" she asks.

“I have to go shopping tomorrow, then I leave Friday. I'll be back when it's done, but Thea," I pause, screening my words carefully so as not to scare her. “We need to pack. We'll be moving somewhere new."

She nods and smiles. “I figured as much."

I'm relieved that she isn't upset by the news. We've been in this town for a few years now, it's the closest we have come to a permanent home. But we both knew it wouldn't last forever. I have to move where there are marks and jobs, following the money so we can survive.

Looking at my sister across the table, I silently promise this will be the last move. The next place we settle will be home. With that much money, we would be free to live actual lives. I could provide for both of us and not worry about her.

I don't have the heart to tell her the risk. She knows there's always a chance I won't return home. And she knows who to contact should that happen–there's a traveling mystic who stops by the town every few months that would take Althea in and take care of her. She was kind to me once.

“Let's drink," Althea says. She can tell I'm lost in my thoughts. She waves the server over and orders us drinks.

When they arrive, she lifts her glass and clashes it against mine.

“To the job and the future," she grins.

“To the job and the future," I repeat.

And to killing a king.