The assassin disappeared.
"Ooohh," Harriett froze, sword ready as she searched, "So that's what it's going to be. Which means that it will be around…here!"
Harriett flipped her sword into reverse grip and stabbed directly behind her, then spun and danced away. She'd hit something, but that something had only been a chip of stone from the assassin's disguise.
All right. Harriett though, what did mom say about this?
Harriett had trained to recognize anyone hiding in a room, whether hidden or fully invisible. But this thing didn't hide in the room. That would have been easy to stab. It became the room, their body morphing into a perfect image of what was behind them.
In a burst of motion, Harriett spun and swung her blade in deadly arcs around her.
Clang!
Chips of stone flew as Harriett struck a wall that was supposed to be several feet away.
With a blur of counter cuts, Harriett drilled into the mortar before springing away. A blade materialized and gouged the air where Harriett had been.
Harriett's skin tingled. Cold dread crept down her spine, worse than she'd ever felt. Like when she'd returned to the cave and found that Jasson had fallen into a river. That she could try everything in the world, but it wouldn't save his life.
Except this time it was for herself.
How did she kill something like this? Seeing it didn't matter. She couldn't get through the stone. And the stone would just reform if she chipped away. She needed to find her mother. Her mother would be able to restrain this thing, then they could get men with sledgehammers.
It was worth a try.
Harriett pulled out a small crystal device and threw it against a wall, then closed her eyes and ran. Light burst in the corridor and Harriet opened her eyes, picking out her course as she sped.
Harriett had toyed with monsters that never stood a chance. The assassin could be doing the same thing, and break free of her mother's restraints. And if Harriett's mother died to stand between Harriett and death…
Everyone was fighting the dragon outside. Harriett could hear the roars. They couldn't be distracted. Maybe Scott. He had good senses and wouldn't be very useful against a dragon. Perhaps he could- no. He would be needed out there. She had to handle this by herself.
Harriett changed course. A knife ricocheted off of the wall.
Harriett threw herself down a side corridor, skidding on the stones. Something in her screamed that the Assassin was getting bored. She needed to turn it up a notch. A door between them.
Harriett swerved, grabbing a sconce and using it to spin her around. Pushing off the wall, she dove down a flight of stairs. There was a door there, with only one bolt holding it shut, but Harriett couldn't get her hands to move fast enough. It had been worth a gamble. Harriet spun with her sword out in a block.
Clang!
Harriett caught the dagger and was shoved against the door by the weight of the assassin. Harriett tried to scream, but couldn't. The perfect picture of the stairs broke, exposing smiling eyes from cracks in the camouflage. Then the pressure was gone. Harriett touched a hand to her face, and it came away covered in blood.
"Nice," Harriett grinned, blood pooling and dripping off of her chin, "That's a good scar."
Then Harriett slammed the bolts open and eyed the eyes of the assassin. It hadn't disappeared again, and just looked at her. Harriett cautiously opened the door inward, using the time to memorize the shape.
The assassin was not perfectly disguised. The shape was roughly humanoid, and the shadows of depth felt colored more than real.
With the door open, Harriett slipped in with hardly a breath. Harriett pressed the door shut with one hand while slamming the bar down with another.
It's definitely toying with me, Harriett thought, which means it wants a reaction. So it should be right behind me!
Harriett took a breath and spun, thrusting her sword behind here. There was no one there.
Crash!
The wood splintered beside Harriett, a dagger cutting through the door like paper. An eye peered through, gleefully consuming Harriett's shock. This was not some stoic embodiment of death. It was bored.
Harriett screamed briefly, something she didn't really have to force, then sprinted down the hallway. She could hear the assassin cut the door in half before pushing through, and Harriett pushed her legs faster. She knew where she was going.
Then the hall opened up into a large space full of the preparations of war. An armory ready to be lifted to the castle bailey (now ballroom) directly above. Harriett sprinted between racks of polished armor and spears, dodging around the occasional dusty catapult. She could feel hunger prickling at the back of her neck.
Harriett leapt on top of a catapult and vaulted into the air, landing on one of the walls. She swiveled and looked around. There, behind her, was the figure. The figure had not maintained its invisibility. Rather, it looked like a piece of a catapult soaring through the air with the background painted on the other areas. It looked…vulnerable.
Harriett dodged to the side, and the figure crashed into the stone like a two hundred pounds of wood catapult. A change flickered across its form as the wood morphed into stone. Harriett smiled and met the assassin's eyes, then ran along the wall.
The assassin kept pace with Harriet, fingers flat against the wall and form morphing to keep up. It seemed to struggle at higher speeds. Why was it so good at this?! Harriett had spent years climbing in this armory. She couldn't be outdone in her own home.
Harriett pushed off and landed on a suit of armor. One that was precariously balanced, so if you didn't jump just right, it would topple. Harriett made it look easy, then skipped off and drew her sword as she spun. The assassin would leap straight onto the suit of armor, then Harriett would strike in the gaps that form after a jump.
Except it didn't. The assassin slid down the wall, and Harriett wasted no time in bolting away. If it wanted to take the slower way down, more power to it. She was across the armory trying to think of an idea when the ceiling exploded.
BOOM!
The dragon's head erupted inside, fierce eyes spinning from the concussive force. Harriett watched as the dragon's eyes locked onto her, and it inhaled, fire growing in its mouth. Flame gorged forth, and the armory burned, metal heating to a fiery hot red.
In that flash, Harriett felt the eyes leave her back. With a burst of true speed, Harriett vaulted up the wall and into one of the many secret passages in the armory. Harriett peered out from her hiding place as the dragon roared. It tried to pull its head out and sent stone flying. Was it bigger than a second ago?
Harriett shook her head and searched the room. Where had the assassin gone-
The assassin was sitting in a tub of water, steam rising from the armor which it had been disguised as. Now, slower than before, its body reshaped into the tub itself. But for a moment there, Harriett had caught sight of the true shape.
It was a figure in dark cloth wrapping every surface save the eyes, much like Harriett's own black leather armor. The dark cloth had a certain sparkle to it, like it was woven from the tenth Crystal. And the assassin was shaped, quite distinctly, like a woman.
Harriett hid as the living washtub stood up, then turned into the living weapons rack as it looked around. Harriett willed herself from existence. The assassin's shape seemed to change sluggish for a few more seconds before, and it never seemed to pick exactly the right angle of shapes for Harriett to lose sight of it.
It doesn't know where I am. Harriett realized, So it can't hide properly.
With a final roar, the dragon grew so much that its neck cracked the castle. The dragon's eyes widened. It braced itself.
CRACK- BOOM!
The dragon exploded out, raining grassy boulders from the ballroom above. The fight above seemed to resume, and Harriett felt the urge to gawk. But she needed to focus on the assassin. It searched, paying no mind to the fallen rocks, and it seemed almost…lost.
Hah, Harriett thought, A million places to hide, and I know all of them. You'll never catch me now.
Then, above the din on the roof, Harriett heard someone talking. It was Clara.
Clara said, "Go inside already. You're in the way, Svarm."
Svarm? Harriett thought, The golden apples boy? He's still here?
The figure of the assassin turned, head tilting to the hole above as its camouflage changed. Blade appearing in hand. Svarm had been on the list with herself, hadn't he?
Svarm whined, "If you really feel that way, then fine!"
No, no, no. Harriett thought. I almost had it. It would have wasted hours here.
"He's a guest, Trenador." Clara said, "I've got to get back to battle. Keep him safe in Har- in Calendula's room."
The assassin jumped, wind whipping around it for lift, and disappeared into the hole and the battle beyond.
Well *%$, Harriett thought, I can't do that.