Kalie hid herself in the shadows of a doorway as the city patrol marched by. She shook her

head silently in disgust. Several of the guards were either stoned or drunk. Laughing and

joking among each other, the incompetent guards were not paying attention to what was happening

around them, so Kalie had no trouble sneaking past them and into the small, inconspicuous side

entrance that led into the gardens on the palace grounds. Dressed in the darkest gray, Kalie

was seen by no one as she ran in a crouched position from the safety of one shadow to another.

She was on the third floor of the gigantic building the commoners called "The Palace".

The Palace was more like a miniature city housed in a serious of huge buildings connected

to each other by numerous covered and roofed walkways. Kalie was standing in the shadow of a

large stone statue when she saw her target. A paunchy man that was clearly balding had slung

his fat arms around two ladies of negotiable virtue, singing drunkenly as he roughly groped the

giggling women. Kalie smiled coldly and unsheathed her dagger, carefully blackened so that no

stray spark could betray her presence. Lord Dunath of Magridi--one of the most corrupted nobles

in all of Jessania. What Kalie was going to do was not only for herself, but also for the

hundreds of peasants that were treated like dogs in the Lord's private lands.

Weighing her dagger, Kalie closed one eye for a more accurate throw and stepped out into

the empty hallway. As the three revelers stood in shock, Kalie threw the blackened blade and

ten years of training guided the blade to the center of its target. With a dull and meaty thunk,

the dagger pierced deeply into the black heart of Dunath. Before the prostitutes fully realized

what had happened, Kalie had darted out to retrieved her knife and then vanished back into the

shadows. She was already running down the garden path when the girls came out of their shocked

state and started screaming.

With a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, Kalie unlocked the gate and strode off

into the silent night of the city.

*******************************************************

Falin raced to the source of the hysterical screams, drawing his sword as he ran down the

great staircase that would bring him down to third floor. Other servants were already there by

the time he arrived at the scene of the crime. He was not surprised to see his uncle lying dead

in a pool of bright red blood. It was bound to happen someday, Dunath was not particularly well

liked in the court and hated by the common citizens of Jessania.

Sliding his sword back into its scabbard, Falin walked over to the sobbing whores. Fixing

their faces in his memory, Falin pulled them away from his uncle's body. He passed them over to

one of the coachmen. Bending down, he inspected wound. It was fatal. Dunath had been dead for a

few minutes already. However, Falin was more interested on who had caused the wound. Whoever

it had been was a professional. The small weapon had gone clean though with very little mess.

Falin felt a little better. Even though Dunath had been a cruel person, but he had been his

uncle after all and Falin had been taught to respect blood ties.

Raising, he nodded to one of the servants. When the man came over, Falin pointed to the

cleaner and prettier of the two sobbing women, "Send her to me at later tonight when she is

calm enough to talk."

Silently, the man nodded.

Falin sent half of the crowd to get cleaning supplies, for Dunath's blood was soaking

into the priceless Gella carpet. Falin knew from experience that once blood had dried, it was

hell to get it off cloth. That done, Falin returned to his rooms for some careful thinking.

Distantly, he could hear the thumping of expensive boots on the carpet. There was bound to be

some serious consequences of the assassination of the ruling lord of Magridi.

***************************************************

Falin stared at the fire his manservant had lit a few hours earlier. The whore from

before was drowsy from all the good food and wine he had stuffed her with. When he judged her

ambiguous enough, he started to carefully ask his question.

Curling a lock of her thick red hair around his long, fingers, Falin asked his first

question, "It must have been very scary for you to see Lord Dunath murdered."

Drowsily, the women replied, "Yeah, it was . . ."

Easing into the question, Falin gently said, "I am guessing the intruder was a horrible

looking monster. Red eyes, fangs, slimy . . ."

He was cut off when the woman shook her head. Sticking her lower lip out in a pout, she

disagreed, "Uh-uh! That's what makes me so mad!"

Falin waited, sure that she would continue. He was right.

After another sip of imported Berinada wine, the woman continued, "She--"

Surprised, Falin couldn't stop himself from saying aloud in surprise, "She?!!"

Sullenly, the woman nodded, "Aye, and what I could see of her, she was beau-ti-ful!!"

Encouraged by Falin surprised face, the women elaborated, "She was all dressed in this

sorta blackish, grayish tunic and trousers. It's not fair!"

Her lower lip stuck out even more, "How can she be so slim? It's just not fair. I hafta

eat itty-bitty meals every day and tighten my corset as far as it can go and it's still not

enough! She was veiled 'cept for her eyes," Her bleary eyes glared at the wineglass in her

hands. "Why was I born with boring brown eyes? 'Snot fair! She had the most wunnerful blue eyes

. . . Or was it purple?"

The woman frowned to herself as she muttered under her breath.

"Yeah, I'm sure it was silver!" Falin groaned silently, how was he ever going to identify

the assassin if he didn't know how he, no, she looked like?

"And she had the most amazin' black hair. I remember it was braided and wrapped around her

head, but twas long 'ough to encircle her head twice . . ."

Seeing that she had fallen asleep, Falin called in Ronan, his manservant and asked him to

take her away.

*********************************************************

When Ronan returned, Falin described the assassin to him. Unlike most nobles, Falin liked

to keep in touch with the outside world--seeing it had left him stripped of most his illusions.

He viewed the cruelty the other lords treated their people with absolute disgust. His people

loved their young lord for his kind and fair regime. Ronan was one of the few people who had

been great friends with Falin all through his childhood. Falin let him wander the city on

certain days as a reward. It was beneficial to Falin himself as well, for Ronan bought back

with him information about the outside and the more important people of the city's slums.

Ronan was silent for a moment then asked Falin a strange question, "Lord, you said you

disliked the viciousness of your fellow lords when you were young. Do you still believe the

same?"

Surprised that his childhood friend had asked him such a ridiculous question, Falin

replied a bit more vehemently than he had intended. "Of course I still do! Did you get hit over

the head or something, Ronan?" he asked worriedly.

Ronan smiled in relief, "Good. I know this 'assassin' of yours. Do you remember the

deaths of Lord Paine and Seladie a year ago?"

"Yes," answered Falin, "But what does that have to--" He broke off as things clicked into

place.

Ronan smiled at his Lord, "We, the lower classes that is, know her only by name. She's

known as the Chameleon. Part of it is the way her eyes can change colors depending on her

emotions. She could control it of course, similar to the lizard. But mostly, it's because of

the way she could be anywhere and fit in so well, no one would notice. I saw her in court as a

maid the day Paine died."

Falin paced around the room as his quick mind formulated a plan. Ronan watched his noble

friend pace the room patiently. He knew that when Falin did that, he was thinking deeply.

In a few seconds, Falin stopped and turned to his friend, "How can this 'Chameleon' be

hired?"

Ronan grinned, "I know how, but I cannot tell you. It is forbidden. She will come after

me herself if I told any of you nobles."

Falin just waved his hand, dismissing the secrecy, "It doesn't matter. You can be our

contact. Tomorrow night, hire her for me. That is, if you don't have anything else you

want to do."

Ronan bowed, "It would be my pleasure."

Falin laughed and clapped his friend on the back.

**********************************************************

Kalie twirled her favorite dagger around her hands. All that could be seen was a silver

blur. It was a difficult move, but it intimidated her employers. Besides, it kept her hands

flexible.

Kalie returned her wandering mind to the subject at hand, or rather, the man sitting

across from her in the dirty tavern. Nondescript with brown hair and eyes, even his height and

personality was average. He was comfortable enough, unlike her past employers, who trembled in \

her mere presence.

Bluntly Kalie asked, "Who?"

"Weridan of East Cove."

This Duke was a horror to his people. Interested in spite of herself, Kalie asked, "How

much?"

The man's mouth quirked upward, a movement too small to be called a smile. He could tell

she was interested, "One hundred gold suns."

Kalie raised an eyebrow in surprise. Whoever wanted to hire her wanted this man dead. She

let the silence hang for a while longer. The sound of the crowd by the bar increased as time

passed and people arrived from work.

Finally, Kalie said, "Let me meet the buyer of my services."

The man smiled, "Of course."

*****************************************************

Falin sat straight in his chair. Slouching would only lower the opinion "The Chameleon"

had of him. Ronan had arranged for him and the assassin to meet in a middle class inn. Too

pricey for the lower class and too cheap for the upper. Falin had requested a private room and

had gotten it. It was pleasantly lit by lamps in the corner, so that their were no shadows to

hide anything or anyone. The cream colored carpet was soft and Falin wondered how the innkeeper

managed to keep it so clean. A glass window glazed to allow insiders to look out but keep

outsiders from looking in faced the somewhat busy street and its traffic in front of the inn.

Maroon cloth draping the walls added a little color and the mahogany furniture turned it into a

room for serious and quiet conversations.

Hearing the door click as it opened, Falin turned to face "The Chameleon".

****************************************************

Kalie had dressed as a man today. Since a woman meeting a man her age by herself was

frowned upon in this area of the city, it was the only option she had.

When she opened the door of the room the average man, Ronan, had told her to go into, she

looked her employer from head to toe. She had expected a silly young fop, but this "Lord Falin"

was anything but. He had the blonde hair that was so popular in the Courts right now and solemn

green eyes. He had a long, elegant face set off by a wide mouth that looked like it used to

smile a lot. His body was trim, as if he worked out regularly, which raised Kalie's opinion of

him by a few notches. His excellent balance as he rose from the table made it rise another few

notches, but it was the way he was dressed that confirmed what Ronan had told her.

No average noble would wear such drab clothing in such mute colors. Nobles felt the need

to stand out and answered by looking like peacocks with no taste in fashion at all. Falin's

clothing was a simple but elegant cut in earth--colors of forest green and brown.

Taking a seat, Kalie waited for him to start the discussion.

*************************************************

Falin looked at the man that had walked into the room. This was the assassin? Didn't the

woman say it was a female?

But as he continued to look at him, Falin realized that his eyes were changing from a

light purple to the color of the clouds before a violent thunderstorm hit. The hair he could

see was braided and tucked underneath the man's collar. He was dressed in a gray tunic and

trousers. His boots were made from the skin of a black wera, a predator was almost invisible at

night and extremely hard to hunt. The only thing that didn't fit the description Falin had been

given was the gender.

So he decided to openly ask, "Are you the one people call 'The Chameleon'?"

It was the voice that gave it away. A light, musical soprano that would never be found in

a man. Falin had a feeling however, that if The Chameleon wanted to totally obliterate every

bit of evidence of her being female, she could do so.

"I am. You should know why I am dressed like this, or you are not as intelligent as I

thought."

Falin almost smiled at the words. This killer resembled his older sister very much. If he

could deal with his sister, he could deal with The Chameleon.

**************************************************

Kalie, a. k. a The Chameleon, swept the floor of Duke Weridan's huge beach house. Dressed

in a maid's costume in East Cove colors Falin had managed to get, she had been submerged into

the daily routine of the Duke's staff with hardly a ripple for more than a week now. Deciding

that the time was right, and that she was familiar enough with the house, Kalie leaned the

broom against the wall and walked up the stairs to where Weridan spent most of his time--his

gaming room.

Slipping into the room, Kalie was virtually unnoticed. She was not surprised by the fact

that Falin was there. He had been a guest of the Duke for more than two weeks already. He was

the one to smuggle her in through the otherwise tight security of Weridan's soldiers. As part

of Falin's entourage, Kalie was just another servant. Slipping into the shadow of an enormous

bookshelf that covered one entire wall of the room, Kalie waited for the Duke to get into a

position where she could hit him and no one else.

Laughing at one of the lewd jokes another one of the guest had cracked, Duke Weridan got

up and went to the fully stocked portable bar filled with his favorite wines to refill his

glass. Kalie saw her chance. Like a bird released from its cage, the tiny dagger buried itself

to the hilt in yet another noble's corrupt heart.

This was when Falin's role in the mission came in.

*************************************************

When he saw The Chameleon slip through the door, still dressed in her maid's uniform,

Falin prepared himself for his part in the job. When the Duke got up to refill his glass, Falin

barely saw the knife hit come. With a gasp, the Duck fell to the floor.

Now it was his turn.

While the other guests blubbered in terror, Falin ran to the Dukes side while shouting as

loud as he could for the servants to bring a physician. Under the semblance of concern, Falin

turned the Duke over. In the confusion, he slipped the knife out of the body and into a hidden

pock in his robes. The flow of blood that the dagger had momentarily plugged sprayed out in a

wide arc, splattering Falin and sending the nobles into fits of terror as they tried to hide.

Seeing The Chameleon slip out, Falin took his cue and added more to the mix as he cried

out, "What has killed our most honored host?!! I see no weapon has pierce his body, yet there

is a hole growing in his chest! Where is that doctor?!!"

By the time it took the doctor to collect all his materials and get to the private room,

Duke Weridan of East Cove was dead.

**************************************************

A week later, Falin was back in the city and was chatting with The Chameleon in his room.

After a few hours of talk about trivial matters, Falin voiced the idea that had been floating

in his head for awhile.

"Why don't we become business partners?"

Startled at the sudden change of subject, Kalie could only repeat, "Business partners?"

"Yes, You scratch my back, and I'll scratch yours."

As the idea sunk into her head, Kalie found herself smiling, "Yes, but in this case, it's

more like 'you watch my back, and I'll watch yours'."

Falin grinned at her, "Great! And just call me Falin from now on will you?"

Kalie smiled back, "And you can call me Kalie."