Guild of Tokens: Trainee

This is a knife

"We're here," said Beatrice. They had stopped in front of a five-story walk-up with a rusty fire escape, the kind that littered the streets of Bed-Stuy. She hit the buzzer for 5A, and a few seconds later, the outer door clicked opened.

The lobby was deserted, and so Beatrice ventured cautiously toward the stairs, stopping at the bottom.

"What are you doing?" asked Kate.

"Listening. Shhh."

If anyone had gotten there ahead of them, they weren't making a lot of noise. Beatrice retreated and walked towards the mailboxes at the back the lobby, and began rummaging through her purse.

"Why aren't we going up?"

"Because I need to give you something first," said Beatrice, reaching her hand into her bag. "I said that our employer probably was just using their money to hire us instead of getting their lazy ass down here, but there's also a chance that someone else knows what's for sale here, so we need to be adequately prepared for that probability."

She removed the knife and unsheathed it from its leather scabbard. The smooth metal of the blade reflected the dirty fluorescent light in the vestibule, emitting a glossy sheen. She grasped the ivory handle and made a few quick stabs in the air before resheathing it.

"Here," said Beatrice, handing the knife to Kate, whose eyes widened.

"W-what, why are you giving that do me?" It was clear from the girl's suddenly pale face that she had never handled a weapon before, and Beatrice didn't have to use her imagination to picture what would happen if the girl tried to use the knife. Especially that particular knife.

"You know what, on second thought, why don't you let me hold onto that?"

Beatrice took the knife back and placed it in her pocketbook.

"If the raid goes south, just try to stay out of the way," she offered.

"Umm, OK," said Kate. "Aren't we just going upstairs, buying some random item, and then leaving? It's not like we're breaking into the Met or something."

"You'd be surprised at how often a mundane exercise turns into an extraordinary one, especially if the Guild decides to get involved," said Beatrice, her eyes drifting down to the almost-faded scar under her jeans that ran the length of her right thigh. "Let's go."

They walked up the short flights of stairs in silence. Beatrice grasped the strap of her pocketbook tightly, as if that would help calm her nerves. It didn't, but the amethyst ring that was normally slotted below her engagement ring would have. Except, in a bone-headed move, she had left it downtown. Not that she expected to need it today, as it would be an absurd waste to use it during such a routine task. But wearing it provided a manner of reassurance that she was now lacking. Well, what's done was done, and the knife would have to be enough today.

The door to 5A was slightly ajar when they arrived on the final landing. Because they're expecting us, thought Beatrice. Not because that fop Gilbert was lying in wait inside. Well, she thought, only one way to find out.

Beatrice pushed the door open and stepped in slowly. The room was empty. No, that was a bad word. It was bare. Where the furniture had once sat, only dents on the pale green carpet remained. The walls too were barren, except for rectangle-shaped squares of white where paintings or pictures had once hung. She was too late.