Perfect Assassin: Book 1 in the Chronicles of Ghadid (Chronicles of Ghadid, 1) - Softcover

Doore

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0765398559 ISBN 13: 9780765398550

Verlag: Tor Trade, 2019

Inhaltsangabe

A novice assassin is on the hunt for someone killing their own in K. A. Doore's The Perfect Assassin, a breakout high fantasy beginning the Chronicles of Ghadid series.

Divine justice is written in blood.

Or so Amastan has been taught. As a new assassin in the Basbowen family, he’s already having second thoughts about taking a life. A scarcity of contracts ends up being just what he needs.

Until, unexpectedly, Amastan finds the body of a very important drum chief. Until, impossibly, Basbowen’s finest start showing up dead, with their murderous jaan running wild in the dusty streets of Ghadid. Until, inevitably, Amastan is ordered to solve these murders, before the family gets blamed.

Every life has its price, but when the tables are turned, Amastan must find this perfect assassin or be their next target.


“The Perfect Assassin is a thrilling fantastical mystery that had me racing through the pages.” —S. A. Chakraborty, author of The City of Brass

“Full of rooftop fights, frightening magic, and nonstop excitement and mystery, I absolutely loved it from start to finish!” — Sarah Beth Durst

The Chronicles of Ghadid
#1: The Perfect Assassin
#2: The Impossible Contract
#3: The Unconquered City

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

K. A. Doore

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

The Perfect Assassin

By K. A. Doore

Tom Doherty Associates

Copyright © 2019 K. A. Doore
All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-0-7653-9855-0

CHAPTER 1

The wind tore at Amastan's wrap, trying to slide warm fingers beneath the fabric and unravel the knots. It tasted of heat and dust, the only products of the sands that stretched endless before him. His tagel kept the worst of the sand from getting into his mouth and between his teeth, but he still had to squint to see through the onslaught.

If he turned and wove back between the buildings, the wind would taper and calm. But here on the edge of the city — on the edge of the platform — there was nothing between him and the sky and the sands several hundred feet below.

The sun had set and night fell fast. Straight east, the first stars began to appear. In another hour, the moon would rise and fill the void that the sun had left, but until then Amastan would have only the light the stars gave him.

It would have to be enough.

"The unshakeable Amastan isn't scared, is he?" taunted Dihya.

His eldest cousin stood to one side, her thick, muscular arms crossed. When he glanced her way, Dihya flashed him a smile that was all teeth. Amastan didn't reward her with a response.

Silently, he reviewed for the fifth — okay, sixth — time the assortment of tools he'd brought. Rope, chain, knives, gloves, water, shoes. He touched the charm that hung between his collarbones. Its leather was soft and bulged with the usual herbs for protection. But for this journey, the charm maker had added a scrap of vellum inked with words that would protect him from jaan. At least, the charm maker had insisted it would. Amastan hadn't exactly had a chance to test it in the city.

Fear tightened his chest at the thought of jaan. He pushed the fear away, breathing deep and focusing on the steps he'd take to complete this one, final test. A dizzyingly long drop and a short sprint across the sands was all that stood between him and becoming an assassin. While deceptively simple, Tamella had built this test around his weaknesses: strength, stamina, and a willingness to be flexible.

He couldn't help but wonder if, on top of all that, Tamella had known about his fear of jaan. Nothing got past his teacher, but then again, that specific fear had never come up during their years of training. He knew. He'd been careful about that.

The wild jaan below were little more than stories. Jaan were as rare as storms. He had nothing to fear but the time limit and, if he failed, Tamella's disappointment. He wouldn't run up against either with the right mindset and planning. He could do this. He would do this.

"Why're you stalling?" asked Azulay, almost shouting as he overcompensated for the wind.

"Stop pestering him," said Menna. She bounced up and down on her toes, betraying her own impatience.

Dihya, Azulay, and Menna had trained with him almost daily for the last five years. The four of them were this generation's candidates, handpicked by Tamella to carry on the family's secret, bloody tradition. In the beginning, the only thing they'd had in common was a very loose relation by blood and the family name they could claim if they wanted. Now, they shared calluses and scars, hopes and dreams, fears and nightmares. Now, they were cousins.

The other three had already completed their tests, each tailored to their particular weaknesses. Amastan had watched each of them pass with increasing trepidation. Tamella had promised that one of them would fail. And now here he was, the only cousin that remained.

"I just want him to go already," whined Azulay. "I could be sleeping instead of standing out here, getting sand in my teeth."

"Sleeping? Really?" Dihya's voice was heavy with skepticism. "Don't you mean losing baats gambling with the caravanners?"

"No. I mean sleeping." Azulay paused, then added, "There aren't any caravans at the end of season and you know it."

"They'll return in a few weeks with the rains, don't worry," said Dihya. "Now, can't you enjoy watching your cousin sweat a simple climb with us? It's not often you get to see 'Stan nervous."

"I'm not nervous."

Amastan immediately regretted rising to the bait. Dihya laughed at him and his cheeks and ears warmed with the rush of embarrassment. Thankfully, his tagel hid any sign of his awkwardness from his cousins. He could've worn his tagel low tonight, since he was among family, but he'd chosen to wear it high, above his nose but just below his eyes to protect against the blowing sand.

"I'm sure Tamella was joking when she said one of us would fail," said Menna.

This time, Azulay laughed, high and sharp. "Have you ever heard the Serpent joke?"

"Shut up, Az'," said Menna. "I'm trying to give him some confidence."

Amastan closed his eyes, ignoring them both. He took a deep breath, then cast away all of his doubts and focused on the task at hand. It was simple, really.

First: he had to get down to the sands.

A metal cable hung above his head and plunged from the edge of the platform into the thickening darkness. Somewhere below, its other end was affixed to a large pole dug deep into the sands. During the day, a carriage descended on that wire to pick up anyone waiting below. Now, at night, the carriage was locked in place at his back.

He wouldn't be unlocking it; Tamella had made it clear that he couldn't take a carriage down. One would be waiting for him on the sands beneath the next neighborhood, but it was up to him to find a way to it in the allotted time.

Amastan adjusted his tagel and wrap, testing the knots and pulling the fabric taut. Then he uncoiled his rope with a flick of his wrist. He wound the rope around his waist twice, looping it through his belt each time, before pulling a length of chain from the bag at his feet. Fabric wove through the links on both ends and covered the metal in cloth. He tied the rope to one end of the chain, then stood on his toes and tossed the chain over the cable. He caught it and tied off the other end.

With both hands overhead to keep the chain from slipping down the cable, he paused to reassess his preparations. Had he forgotten anything? He had two sheathed blades at his waist and a smaller knife strapped to his bicep. Charm pouch. Full water skin. Wrap and tagel were knotted tight. He even had a fire striker and tinder. Just in case.

He had everything he needed and time was falling fast. Yet he hesitated. Why?

Sometimes, said his sister Thiyya in the back of his head, you don't even know when you've been possessed by a jaani.

Thiyya had liked to frighten him with tales about jaan and madness when he was young. In Ghadid, the jaan were little more than words whispered late at night to scare children, yet Amastan had never been able to shake his fear of them. Now dread squeezed his throat as he faced the reality that he would have to walk on the very sands where the jaan weren't just stories. Jaan that struck travelers mute and made it impossible to find any path. Jaan that entered minds and drove men mad. Jaan that made you forget who you were.

"Right," said Amastan, pushing away his fear with that one word.

And with that, he took one, two, three steps to the edge of the platform and — before he could think — a fourth step onto nothing.

Amastan dropped. Someone gasped. Not him: he was holding his breath to keep from screaming. Down, down, with just enough time to panic — then a jolt as the cable caught his weight and now he was truly falling, flying forward into dizzying...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Tor Trade
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2019
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0765398559
• ISBN 13: 9780765398550
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 350
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Procter & Gamble Service GmbH, Braun; https://in.pg.com/contact-us/; ; Sulzbacher Str. 40-50; Schwalbach/Ts.; 65824; Deutschland