Serene Of The Sea

45. Spy

I knew it was wrong, but wrong wasn't going to stop me. I was on a mission. No one would tell me what's going on? That's fine, I'll find out on my own.

I had excused myself early from our meal, claiming fatigue had taken over. They trusted me.
I couldn't help but wonder at my lack of guilt.

There I stood in my room, watching the orca's leading the siren home overhead, whilst I tied back my thick hair into a tight ponytail.
My old sturdy boots were back on my feet. One of their qualities was little noise when moving swiftly. I was going to need that now.

My black suit was back on, the feeling of foreboding came with it. The things I had done in this suit. The things I was about to do. Maybe this suit made it a little easier.
When I wore this suit, I wasn't Serena. I was 72, a nameless warrior of a world destroying army. Maybe my sins could be taken off with it.

I piled some clothes onto the bed, and drew the thick curtains to close out the light. It looked reasonably like I may be laying there. Enough to buy me some time anyway.

The good thing about Sanctuary was the closeness of its domes and rock formations. Meaning in this case, I could take an indirect path to my destination, avoiding the public eye.

My boots found the ledge of my bedroom balcony. My breath was controlled as I took in the passers by, waiting for a good moment to move.
When all eyes are averted, I jump, loving the brief moment of free falling. My fingers find the lip of the neighbouring domes roof. I clasp on whilst swinging up my legs with enough effort to have to think about my breathing. Downside of caves, especially with low populations? Echoes, never ending echoes.

Once I'm steady on my perch, unmoving in case any sound gave me away. When I'm sure, I take long and careful strides, keeping to the shadows. The skystones shine with an evening glow, I had slept most of the day away. It was good to see the light fading, it made movement easier, surprising me just how easy it was. The security was lax, because no one on the outside knew this place existed. And all those that did, weren't alive.

When I ran out of domes to traverse, I jumped onto a giant stalagmite, using its natural layered formation to get lower down into the city.

Not knowing my destination was troublesome. Time being of the essence however, drove me forward. Enough time in different environments had taught me how to find out the gossip, and someone always talked.

Seeing a likely target I dropped to street level, pulling up my black bandana to hide my face. A watering hole with a crude sign read 'The Sirens Head', painted on the wall of the dome. Laughing drifted from the inside. Even the drunken songs were beautifully crafted, I guessed it was impossible for a siren to sing badly.

It was lucky that the city hadn't encountered the weavers teams in the queens army before, that mean't I could wear my suit without a worry as I stepped into 'The Sirens Head'.

Not many heads rose as my feet hit the new wooden floor of this tavern.

The men of the city laughed and cheered as a large man with a burly red beard chugged his fifth pint of deep brown ale.

Their song was cheerful on the air as everyone seemed to find the right key, even though most were clearly off their faces, "DRINK UP, DRINK DOWN, YE MERRY MAN. THE ALES A FLOWING, ME APPETITE GROWIN', DRINK UP, DRINK DOWN, YE MAN! YEAAAAAA!" They all scream as he slams it down, picking up the next one.

I edge around the room with enough confidence to look normal, but close enough to the shadows not to draw attention. Finding myself by a small table with a lone chair, I sit, opening my ears and my powers. Now all I had to do was wait.