|[ DEATH'S APPRENTICE ]|

[Chapter Twenty-Five]

I walked up the stairs of the old hotel, listening to the quiet. I had told Nathan and his followers to flee, but from the whispers upstairs I knew they hadn't. I hesitated on the landing outside the bar-room. It was a tempting idea to just walk away without even letting them know I was here. I doubted many would miss me, but I knew I couldn't. Nathan was relying on me, and I also knew those who backed him were counting on me just as much. I clenched my hands into fists, taking a deep breath before I stepped into the bar-room and everyone turned to look at me, shock written on all their faces. It was obvious they had thought I was dead.

"What happened to you!?" Nathan cried, looking me over, "You're covered in blood." I looked down at myself. I had forgotten about the congealing blood that covered my clothes and skin. I shook my head.

"It doesn't matter. Haleck is dead. And the zealots are weak. I slew the source of their power, the Leviathan."

"The what?" a woman asked. I glared at her and she clamped her mouth shut.

"If ever there was a time to strike it would be now. They are in disorder. The Zealots are leaderless and the position of monarch is now free for the taking. I have one last task before I leave. Who wishes to accompany me to the church to put an end to the Zealots, once and for all?" there was a moment of quiet, in which I feared none would volunteer the prospect of returning to the church alone, even with the Zealots vulnerable was not an inviting one. But Nathan slowly raised his hand, a determined look on his face. His partner quickly raised her hand too and others followed suit until over half the group assembled had put their hand up.

"The Zealots are hiding in their church. Let's flush them out, the rats that they are!" I cried and the group cheered in response. Nathan stood and walked over to me.

"Once you have finished, you are leaving?" he asked. I had expected sadness to be on his face but it was something else that lit his features; something I couldn't name. I nodded, refusing to show too much emotion. Nathan gave a sad nod in response and his hand found my shoulder. "Just... at least say good-bye, before you do go." He said.

"I can do that." I said softly. Not that it would matter. Once I left, he would forget about me.

***

I looked up at the cathedral. There were no Patrol Officers standing guard at the doors, nor had we encountered any on the walk to the church. It seemed all authorities were still gathering to talk about the mysterious assassination of the former King, Haleck, and who should replace him. Nathan stood beside me, holding a baton in his hands. Everyone present was holding a make-shift weapon – anything they had managed to get their hands on. I held my own sword aloft, feeling its familiar weight in the palm of my hand. There was a knife in my boot, pressing against my ankle. It felt good to have a back-up weapon. And there were the throwing knives, strung across my chest. I sighed. We were so close. So close to finishing. And yet it seemed like it would never end.

"Let's go." I said softly, "They are weak and un-organised." The crowd around my rumbled with talk and excitement and nervousness – I realised some of those with me had never been in a proper fight, had never faced their deaths. I prayed that it would be they who left unscathed.

As we pushed the doors open and stepped inside. There was the sound of a crossbow firing and a bolt whistled through the air to lodge in the door above my head. Within seconds we were being bombarded, the only noise filling my ears that of wood splintering and the whisper of metal through the air.

"Everyone, down!" I ordered and we scattered, finding cover behind pews and statues. I watched as a figure of a praying angel had its wing hewn off by a stray bolt. I clenched my fist as the familiar pain wormed through my veins and I watched as the world around my slowed down. I leapt out into the open and hurried towards the Zealots who had their crossbows aimed on my group. They all moved to shoot me, but far too slow to even get close. I reached the first one and slashed his throat open, leaping to the next one and skewering him through the stomach. I picked up his fallen crossbow and shot the third marksman in the chest and ducked as time resumed its normal pace and a bolt missed my ear by an inch.