Neve looked down at the papers she was given. They were stacked in a neat pile, held together by a small clip. The inked lines had no mistakes and were uniform in length. Detailed on those lines was the name and location of the man she had to kill. 

“The papers don’t bite, Usoro,” Eamon said. He stared at her from behind his desk with a small smile. A smile meant that he was pitying her. Months under his charge had taught her that, and there was not one day where he was without pity. A silent apology for choosing her out of all the children he saw. She didn’t dislike it, but she didn’t like it either. 

“I know.” She grabbed the papers, holding them up to her face. The top page of the dossier told her that the man’s name was Arbin Sallow, and he lived in a small town outside the capital city of Trahitra. She knew the country was on the brink of war; indignation and hurt pride ran through the blood of the revolutionaries. 

Her eyes locked onto the red ink in the top right corner of the top page. The glossy words indicated the case number and the agent who carried out the mission. An enchantment ran through the ink, searing the words onto the paper. No matter what happened to the dossier, they would always know that Neve was the killer.

Eamon said, “You’re ready for this.”

“I know.” She knew she was. Three years of training led to this moment. The first mission she would take that actually meant something. Her weapons had been given to her: a reuûn'oard, a rapier, and a dagger. It was standard issue for her rank. 

“Are you going to say anything besides I know?”

“Yes, sir.”

Eamon let out a sound that was a mixture of a sigh and a laugh. “Your cheekiness is going to get you in trouble one day.”

“I’m sure it will, sir.”

A chuckle left the man as he reclined in his seat. “This mission will also be a test of your ability to work in a team.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Agent Poriv will accompany on your mission.” He watched her carefully, so she made sure not to react. Despite how much she wanted to protest, there was no point. Kenmel would accompany her, and that was the end of it.

“Of course, sir.” 

“You won’t have any problems with that, will you?”

“No, sir. Although, I do wonder why Agent Poriv’s name isn’t on the dossier.”

“Poriv is there to make sure you don’t make any serious mistakes. All the work of the mission is solely yours, so only your name is on the dossier. All repercussions will fall on you.”

“I understand.”

“Good. You are dismissed.”

Neve bowed her head before stepping out of the room. Kenmel was waiting for her outside the door with a sly grin on his face. She glared at him, walking past him without a word. Kenmel fell into step next to her and asked, “Why such a cold shoulder, Usoro?”

“I don’t like you.”

Kenmel’s grin widened. “You sure are straightforward.”

“I don’t see a reason to dance around what we both know.”

“Big words for someone so young.”

“You’re only two years older than me.” 

“Yeah, but I’m so much better than you. I might as well be five years older!”

Neve peered down at him, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Maybe I’ll take you seriously when you grow a few centimeters, shorty.”

Neve was delighted to see a red flush light Kenmel’s cheeks. The glare he gave her would fuel her daydreams for the next couple of months. It wasn’t every day that she got to him like that. She relished in the fact that she was taller than him. She wasn’t even that tall for her age. 

“Get ready, Usoro. We leave in ten,” he snapped. Turning on his heel, he walked away in a huff. Neve tried to muffle her giggles, but it was too funny not to laugh. 

Neve skipped back to her room. Her high spirits were what she needed before the mission. Eamon said the first kill was the worst, and she didn’t doubt him. But she couldn’t break. Being ineffective was the worst thing she could be. A spy that couldn’t kill would be killed. By now, she knew too much. 

She grabbed the items the dossier recommended she take, packing them into a small bag. She met Kenmel at the gate to the compound on time. He carried a bag similar to hers. A stagecoach was waiting for them, and Kenmel asked, “Do you have everything?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, sir,” Kenmel corrected.

“I’m not calling you that.” The thought of showing him respect sent shivers down her spine.

“Remember that this mission is also about how well you work with others. It would be easy for me to write how uncooperative you were in my report.”

“Understood.” Kenmel waited for her to add on the honorific, which she did so through gritted teeth, “Sir.”

Kenmel grinned at her and took her bag, throwing it into the back of the coach. He climbed in afterward. While Neve didn’t want to sit in the back with him, it wasn’t appropriate for her to ride in the front for a mission like this. She climbed in after him and sat in the seat across from him. He was already resting his head against the wall with his eyes closed.

He said, “Get some sleep. We won’t be sleeping when we get there.”

“I know that.”

He cracked an eye open. “Did you?”

Neve closed her eyes in response, not answering what she knew was probably a rhetorical question. With a forced stillness born from training, Neve fell asleep.

She awoke to Kenmel shaking her. Jerked awake, one of her hands flew to her weapon. Kenmel rolled his eyes and said, “Maybe if you didn’t sleep so deeply, you wouldn’t be so panicked.”

“I don’t sleep deeply.”

“Yet it took me over a minute to wake you.”

“Whatever.” Neve slid out of the coach, stretching her stiff limbs. She leaned back in to grab her bags, but Kenmel stopped her by gripping her upper arm. When Neve whirled her head around to snap at him, he clutched her face, covering her mouth with harsh fingers. She raised a hand to his wrist and tried to peel his hand off her face. However, his strength was superior to hers, and he held on tight. 

He pulled her face to his level, “The time is takes for you to wake up might be the only thing that keeps you from dying. Despite how I feel about you, our country needs you, and I won’t tolerate you dying from sheer stupidity. And it’s whatever, sir. Do you understand?”

Neve’s muffled, “yes, sir,” was enough for Kenmel to release her. She stumbled back, hitting her head on the edge of the coach. She pitched forward and rubbed the back of her head. Kenmel knocked her shoulder when he walked past. She scoffed, unamused by his pettiness.

When she caught up with him, he held out a hand. Neve asked, “What? Sir.”

“Give me your rapier.”

“Why?” She clenched the sword closer to her side. 

“It’s suspicious for a little girl to walk around town with a sword. Your mission is to not collect wandering eyes.”

“Fine, sir.” She threw the sheathed sword at him. He caught it and slung it on his belt with his other sword. “Isn’t it suspicious for a little boy to have swords too?”

“Unlike you, I know how to remain unseen.” He gave her an unfriendly smile, “You should remember that. Just because you can’t see me doesn’t mean I’m not there.”

“I will, sir.” 

“Good. I’m sure you know what to do from here.” Neve nodded. “Try not to make any mistakes.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ll see you soon. Once you’ve isolated the target, I’ll give you your rapier back.” Neve nodded again. Kenmel gave her a playful salute before disappearing into the woods. With him gone, all the tension left her body. 

The village was in the opposite direction of where Kenmel left. From the dossier, she knew that it was a typical farming town. The problem with that was they would be quick to spot an outsider. However, she could use that to her advantage. The greatest weapon was her age. A lost girl was the perfect bait.

She walked into the town with that plan in mind. She noted how few people there were outside. She expected more people to be out in the late morning, but she couldn’t complain. She wandered down the rough paths acutely aware of the eyes watching her. Some of the townspeople glanced before resuming their work, but others lingered. It was not hard to look lost because she didn’t know where she was going. 

She had almost made it to the other side of the town when she spotted her target. Sallow was hauling some of his yield. His family trailed behind him, a wife and a son. Their son was a year younger than her. His laughter was carefree and high-pitched as he ran between his parent’s legs. His eyes crinkled into a smile so easily. Neve pulled her face into the same expression, but her skin pulled with uncomfortable unfamiliarity. She felt her face, noting how her eyes didn’t crinkle like his. 

Shaking herself, she refocused on the mission. She ran up to Sallow and tugged on his pants. His kind eyes rooted her to the ground, words getting stuck in her throat. His wife’s soft voice asked, “What is it, sweetie?”

“U-u-um,” she stuttered, “Can you help me?”

“Of course,” the woman crouched to look at her better, “What do you need?”

“I live in a village near here, but I got lost. Could you show me the way back?”

Sallow asked, “What village?”

“Calburrow.” 

“That’s like an hour from here!” the son shouted. 

Sallow chuckled, ruffling his son’s hair. “It’s only ten minutes, kid.”

The wife said, “It would be no problem to show you the way. Arbin, honey, why don’t you do that while I take Calum and the supplies home?”

“You sure you can carry everything?”

“Calum can carry some of the smaller things. He should work off some of his energy anyways.”

“Okay, have a safe trip.” Sallow turned to face Neve and held out a hand. “Come on.”

Neve slipped her hand into his. She stayed silent as he led her out of the village and into the surrounding woods. When they were a good distance away, she pulled on his hand. He stopped and looked at her when she let her hand fall from his. He asked, “What is it?”

Reaching into her coat, Neve removed her dagger, pressing it into his side. “Stay still.”

He froze. She added, “I have an reuûn'oard as well, so I wouldn’t get any ideas about overpowering me.”

A knowing look crossed his face. “Are you from Zamsune, little girl?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

“I should’ve known. All you Zamsunians look the same. To think they would stoop so low as to send one of their spies to get rid of me. Do you know why? Why they want you to kill a rebel leader?”

“I don’t care.”

He shifted, causing Neve to press the dagger in harder. “How old are you?”

“Does it matter?”

“Can’t you grant a dying man a question?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but replied, “I’m ten.”

Sallow muttered, “You all keep getting younger. It’s a shame what Zamsune’s doing.”

“So, what’s wrong with that? How’s it a shame?” She knew the answer to her question, but she couldn’t stand his tone. She could stand Eamon’s pity, not his.

“You can join us. We’ll protect you. You don’t have to fight anymore.”

Neve stared into Sallow’s eyes, pressing the dagger deeper into his skin. She forced herself to not waver at the sincerity she saw. A rustling to her right had her pulling out her reuûn'oard, pointing it in the direction of the noise. Kenmel appeared with her rapier. He threw the unsheathed sword at her, which she struggled to catch. She managed to pocket her reuûn'oard, clutching the sword in her newly free hand.

Flicking her eyes to the right, she saw Kenmel leaning against a tree across from them. His presence gnawed at the back of her mind. While she wanted to leave, now was not the time. Neve replied, “It is a great honor to serve Zamsune.”

Sallow nodded, “If that is how it must be.”

She took her rapier and plunged it through an artery above his heart. She wanted his death to be fast as there was no need to prolong it. He had been nice. She stepped away from him, and he dropped to his knees. He pressed a hand to his chest, blood seeping from between his fingers. He stared at her with pain-filled eyes, but then he looked over her shoulder. The pain in his eyes was replaced with fear. He raised a weak arm to grasp her shirt, pulling her closer. He rasped, “Please, don’t hurt him.”

She turned around to see Kenmel holding Sallow’s son. A sword was positioned at the boy’s throat, and his mouth was covered with Kenmel’s hand. Tears flowed down his face. She turned back to Sallow in time to see the light leave his eyes. His hand fell from her shirt as his body fell face-down onto the ground. She prayed that Pravu would allow his soul Eternal Slumber. 

Kenmel said, “What a quiet death. I wish more of them went like that.”

“What are we going to do about the son?”

“We? You will be killing him.”

“But he isn’t the target.”

“It doesn’t matter. He saw you kill his dear father. He needs to go.”

On unsteady feet, Neve approached Sallow’s son. Distantly, she remembered that his name was Calum. Calum was shaking from fear, and the dark spot on his pants told her that he had wet himself. She felt the rapier was too much for the small boy, so she brought her dagger forward in a reverse grip. 

The soft skin of his neck was exposed to her. In a large arc, she slashed her dagger across the vulnerable flesh. As if she was cutting into butter, Calum’s throat split open. Blood splattered onto her face. She was heaving like she had after running laps all those years ago. Kenmel let go of Calum, and his body flopped to the ground. Blood pooled on the forest floor, staining the earth a foul red. 

She didn’t know what expression she wore, but Kenmel broke down into laughter at the sight of her. His body shook with the force of his mirth. Neve stared at him in shock, confused as to why laughter would come to him. She couldn’t stop staring at what she’d done. Then, as if a switch flicked in her mind, she started chuckling. She was laughing as hard as Kenmel was, and tears dotted her eyes from the force of it. However, those tears were the harbingers of the flood that followed. She couldn’t tell if she was laughing or crying anymore. Sadness and a disturbed humor fought for dominance. 

She choked, “He was a child.” 

In a rare moment of kindness, Kenmel wiped a drop of blood off her face. “So are we.”