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"Yeah, you told me so." Lex gave a weak nod, avoiding the Owl's eyes, and grabbed up one of the rolls of bandages he'd set aside when tending to Jameel's wounds. "Should've listened, shouldn't I?" He leaned against the wall as the Coal Tit and Eagle conversed in hushed tones to one side. Shrugging out of his bloodied robes and belt, he stared at the slit in his stomach.

Jameel took the bandages from his hands as they began to tremble. Kneeling, he began to bind the slit. The Assassin didn't respond to the question. Instead, he paused in wrapping, looking up at the younger man.

"We'll need to be more careful. Plan very carefully. Every one of us should think before going out alone," he said softly, "if we go out alone at all."

During the entire episode with Amir, Jameel, and Desmond, Serenity had sat silently in a corner of the room, watching. For all the world, or all the men seemed to care, she was a shadow and nothing more. She was truly surprised when the little boy had come in dragging the other little boy, wounded. Surprised he hadn't brought the Templars in to reclaim their old haunt.

As Jameel spoke gently to the boy, she found she could not remain silent. Standing, she moved into the light. Her sudden speech made the other's conversation halt.

"I believe I as well told you it was dangerous to go outside." Her glare was directed firmly at Lex. "You disobeyed, blew your own cover somehow, I'm sure, and returned to us wounded. You could have at least done the Templars the further favor of bringing them to our door, or did your friend prevent that addition to your little fiasco? Your antics, however, are not the point in this matter. The mercenaries and Templars are a problem that need to be dealt with immediately." Serenity produced a roll of parchment from her robes and handed it over to Jameel. He unrolled it and looked down upon a detailed map of Venice, the patrols of guards marked in detail. "As it is sorely needed, I will be glad to help free my city from the tyranny of these monsters." She folded her arms and looked each and every one of the men in the eyes.

Lex almost jumped up as the woman finished her speech, ready to unleash fury with his tongue. His wound prevented this. Clutching at it, he sat against the wall. He lowered his eyes and remained silent. Jameel had said the same thing in fewer words. It had stung like putting weight on a broken bone--a lesson. The female Assassin saying it, along with her glare, her possessiveness over the entire canal-crossed, stinking, insane city, was only akin to taking a quart of salt and jamming it deep within the long slash in his belly.

Amir had whipped around as soon as the woman opened her mouth, halted in giving Desmond a tongue-lashing for having left his brother behind before, one which he was sure would have made Malik proud. He stalked toward the woman, almost bristling, his accent breaking forth heavily in his Italian.

"You speak of planning, yet you know nothing of keeping men together, foolish b***h. Would you truly like to know how much having your guts slashed open really hurts? I'm more than happy to give you a demonstration of that pain," he growled, caring nothing for the fact that he had to stand on his toes to get in Serenity's face. "It only takes one to give a lesson, not one and every other person standing about! A lesson should show where mistakes are made. Never destroy another's confidence or make them feel like scum! Or is that matter too complex for you to understand?" He gave a slight sneer as he finished, willing to follow through with his earlier offer if she so desired a lesson of her own. "Oh, and that map you handed the Night Master just now? It's already old."

"Hold a moment, small, dark, and loud," she said. "A word?" Serenity walked towards the opposite end of the room and leaned against the wall, waiting for the know-all Assassin. When Amir came to her, she pushed herself off the wall and walked around him until her back was to the group, but only enough so that she could keep a semblance of privacy while still keeping half an eye on the failure in particular. "I do not trust them. That is enough reason for my scorn, much less his failure so far in the city."

She threw a particularly venemous glance over toward Lex and Desmond, but mostly the Sparrow. "The boy is trouble. He attracts and will continue to attract attention when it's not needed." She paused to gauge his reaction before adding, "I can see he has been trained. Yet he fails to adapt to his environment or use the proper stealth to deal with the threat at hand. An unreliable Assassin is the death of many Assassins. If I were you and such a one as he had jeopardized a mission, I would do what any proper Assassin would. And I think you know what I mean by that." She waited now for what he would say, for Serenity knew he would have something to say on this little matter, her face schooled into neutrality.

Amir's eyes narrowed to slits as he twitched his pinkie, the bone dagger he wore in place of a true metal hidden blade sliding into view. He pressed the sharpened tip of bone to the woman's belly.

"A wise Grandmaster once told me to never kill a man unless he had no way of learning the proper path." He lowered his arm. "To kill is always the last resort within the Order, or else my very own mother would have been dead a long time ago, not because of unreliability but because of his inability to adapt to the environment. He took punishment in the form of injuries."

The woman moved back away from the dagger, eyeing him dubiously.

While the two were talking, the Red Owl was listening. He was perfectly still, the look of murder frozen in his icy eyes, his hidden blade out of its protective sheath. Unlike Amir, he had no reservations about what to do when it came to killing a brother Assassin and by what terms it could be done. Jameel kept his eyes on the woman as she moved, tensed to see if she would take a step nearer to them. Even though he was wounded, Jameel knew he could muster up enough mental strength to ignore it and go after her if she so much as blinked the wrong way at the Sparrow.

"You will not touch him." Serenity jerked her head around and stared at him. Jameel's voice, low as it was, carried a Master's authority in every word of his next order. "You will leave him be."

Desmond watched the proceedings from his seat at the table, devouring an apple as he did. The crunching echoed loudly within the tense room. Lex kept his head and eyes low, pulling his robes back on over the fresh binding Jameel had tied off tightly over his middle.

Amir glared up at her. "And if you should take it into your head to disobey this and the Red Owl should be occupied with pressing matters, I will kill you with my own two hands." Desmond bit onto air the next moment, his apple pinned to the wall by a throwing knife. Amir took a seat on the end of the blanket near to his brother, not willing to but into the private space the two men had created for themselves with their closeness, Jameel's hand still on Lex's waist.

Grabbing himself another apple and taking a chunk from it, Desmond said to Jameel in Arabic, "Might want to change your bandage." A spot of blood was showing on the man's robes. Jameel nodded, retracted his blade, and began to cut away the bandages. Damn arrows... Lex shifted carefully, taking up the roll Jameel had used on him and began to help him bind it.

"It looks better," he murmured.

"Getting better. Slightly," Jameel responded, although the ragged tear was surely going to leave a scar. He looked at Desmond and Amir. "We will have to train more." Lex made to rise. "Sit! I did not say we will have to train now." He returned to his seat. "We will train, then gather further information about our targets. But first, our wounds must heal. We will be no good to anyone should we bleed out during a light sparring session." He gave Lex a hard look. The Sparrow shook his head.

"Jameel, I fought off Templars from Masyaf on a broken leg. I can handle a little flesh wound."

"It's that thinking that earned you that so called little flesh wound. Be sorry it will not scar; you'll lack the reminder of its presence not to be so foolish." Lex bowed his head once more. The Red Owl looked up as Serenity moved once more, disappearing toward the back room. Looking at Desmond and Amir, he added, "That doesn't excuse you two. Get to it." Amir nodded and moved off to one side with Desmond. The Eagle groaned and took up his boxer's stance.

Placing a hand atop Lex's head as the two Assassins left the blanket to spar, Jameel ruffled up his hair. "Look at me, little bird." Brown eyes were raised to look into blue. "If you're such a fool, I can only blame myself for it. I've set your example. Now take what rest you can." Nodding, Lex laid down on his back and shut his eyes. Jameel sighed before he too laid down, settling his gaze into the distance far beyond the high ceiling.

Several days passed as the Assassin tended their wounds until Jameel deemed them finally fit enough to spar. Jameel set the book down he'd been reading, something or other by Petrarch, which he'd only picked up to while away the hours and didn't retain much or anything of as there was no one to converse with about it--Amir tended to read the books when the authors first published and never again and Lex tended to doze off after reading a few passages himself--and sat up, popping his shoulder. Standing, he stretched the kinks out of the rest of his body.

Reaching down, he tapped Lex's cheek with his fingertips.

"Huh?" The Sparrow blinked at him, brows pinched and lips pursed in confusion before he shook his head and knuckled the sleep from his eyes. "Wha' time's it?"

"Time for training." Lex gave the tall man a sour look at what he assumed was supposed to be a joke. Heaving himself to his feet, he gave a few experimental stretches. The muscles of his stomach were sore when he moved, but the training would soon ease the pain. Nothing like a good shot of exercise-enduced pain killers to help with a wound.

Jameel let his hidden blade slide free of its sheath as Serenity moved into the room. Lex's blade did likewise as he cracked his knuckles and circled Jameel. The Sparrow gave a quick glance toward the woman before shifting to the side and coming at the Owl from behind on his good side, still wary of attacking on the side he'd been injured on lest he tear the freshly healed skin. That wouldn't be a fair spar. That'd be torture for both of us.

Jameel swung his blade toward the appropriate side to block. The blades slid off one another. After the deflect, he shoved Lex back with his shoulder, making sure to do so in the chest instead of the gut. It would still wind him, but without the added stress on the slashed, healing muscles of his belly. I'm not that cruel. His thoughts turned toward his own injury. The muscles protested from the movement, but the already-forming scar did nothing more than throb. Returning to his original stance, the Red Owl focused on the other's movements with the same intensity he would give a roused viper.

Lex rode the shove, catching himself on his toes and moving quickly into a crouch. He feinted to the man's scarred side before coming back up with a sharp jab at his face. Jameel moved away from the jab, countering with his own punch to Lex's face. The smaller man made a startled noise and all but flung himself to one side, nearly tripping over his own feet as he slashed at the other Assassin's side with his blade. Jameel side-stepped the swipe with the blade.

As he did, Lex lunged forward in an attempted tackle. Jameel dropped low, sweeping at his legs. Lex made another startled noise as he was forced to take a quick step over Jameel's leg, flailing his arms quickly to keep himself upright. Don't give him time to do that again! He shifted his weight, kicking at Jameel's back, eyes shut, listening for what would come next.

At the table where they sat watching, the two other males were stacking coins, betting on who would win.

"Do you even have forty florins to your name, Desmond?"

"That's for me to know, kid, and you to never collect on."

The Red Owl twisted out of his reach, moving on the balls of his feet. Let's see if Lex slacked off in his training. He hopped to one side in a feint, then to the other. Another feint. His attack finally came in a direct kick toward Lex's chest. The Sparrow blocked the strike hurriedly with his arms, balancing on his toes as he moved backward, eyes clamped shut. He tiptoed back as silently as he could along the length of the room.

He froze as a coin fell to the floor, but what chilled his blood was hearing not more than what felt like a foot behind him, "Seems you startled him. Poor boy." He'd forgotten about the woman.

Jameel shot Desmond and Amir a look, the spawn of the Son of Umar reaching down to retrieve the florin that had rolled under the table, sighing and running a hand through his hair. Already tense and wary from the match, the woman standing behind Lex did nothing to eleviate the edge he was put on. He looked at Serenity. She returned his gaze, her arms folded over her chest.

"We have her," said Amir in their native tongue as he watched the Master Assassin pause. "I'm not sure if I'll leave anything for you if it comes to anything more than staying her hands." Jameel gave him a quick nod. Good. He began to move, walking toe-to-heel for absolute silence. I don't want her to kill him for being a liability in her eyes. He can be trained.

Jameel held his breath as he came closer to Lex, watching the young man's eyes flicking behind his lids. He is being trained. His boots made no sound; his armor did not rattle. His eyes flicked to Serenity, narrowing in warning. Under my wings, he'll be one of the best Assassins around. His blade tapped on Lex's shoulder.

"Hello, Lex."

"Hey, Jameel." He jabbed his elbow back into Jameel's ribs, turning and striking at the back of his knee with his heel as he moved his blade up toward his throat. Jameel took the jab, but moved his leg away from the heel hook, grasping the other's blade arm and holding it away from his throat. He tightened his grip as Lex attempted to push forward, bringing his arm up and away from. The Sparrow hissed through his teeth, "Hurts."

"So do your bony elbows." He released his hold, watching Lex shake out his wrist.

"Had he been serious, you would be dead," Serenity chimed in, looking at the little boy from under half-closed lids, a predatory glower. Jameel's own glare focused on her. "After all, Jameel, you crept up on him and he did nothing but stand there with his eyes shut." She gave Lex a thin-lipped smile. The Sparrow turned and made his way to the table where Desmond was pushing Amir the coins that had been piled between them. "Of course, it wasn't a real duel. Only a spar." The woman tapped her chin. "Although I seem to remember he returned from a mission not only wounded but having failed said mission. Almost bringing the Templars down upon our heads as well. Of course, it was only our lives that would have been forfeit." The hidden blade pressed to her throat halted the female Assassin's remarks.

"Lest I find myself cutting out your tongue in Amir's place, be silent." He lowered the blade. "We'll have to work together to be rid of these foes. More than one Assassin is required this time." The blade disappeared into its sheath as he walked to the table. He would make sure Lex gave her no excuse to carry out what she wanted, or to make further remarks against him.

"As I was telling Jameel, our armor needs to be upgraded, as do our weapons," Amir was saying. "If we manage to get Ezio and Mama, we'll have six to our number. Plenty." Lex's eyes drifted to Serenity and then back to the task at hand. His brother made his feelings clear by not counting her among their ranks.

"I have an idea about the armor."

"Indulge us," Desmond muttered. The Coal Tit turned a slow look on him that made the barkeep look away.

"Bulletproof vests. If they can stop bullets, they should be able to stop the shrapnel from the bombs and glass arrows as well as those new metal arrowheads."

"They don't have Kevlar here, dumbass." Desmond let out a groan as his shin was kicked. Jameel gave the two a look before their little squabble could escalate.

"Don't forget about our other Crow problem. They have drug-filled smoke bombs." Jameel leaned his arms against the table and looked at the younger men. "What are we to do against that?"

"Gas masks?" Desmond proposed, spinning to face Amir and switching to Arabic. "By the way, not to be off topic, but how the hell are you still alive?!" Sighing, Amir reached into his robes and pulled out a falcon skull he wore on a leather cord. The men blanched.

"What this skull guards is the reason. A splinter from a certain tree," he said, looking at Jameel. "And yourself?"

"An old Egyptian cross..." the Red Owl answered with a long look at Lex. When no reaction was given other than a blink from the Sparrow, he asked, curiosity getting the better of him, "Gas masks?" By way of demonstration, Lex pulled the sash from under his belt and tied it over his mouth and nose, making a show of breathing through it heavily. Is that what their masks are for? Jameel wondered, thinking of the plague doctor masks the Crows wore. Hmm... In Italian once again: "That doesn't sound like a bad idea."

"Where is it now?" Amir asked, speaking Arabic once more as Jameel went to one side of the room and came back with a satchel the time travelers hadn't seen before. From it he took an inkwell, quill, and parchment. Motioning Lex over, he began to sketch one of the Ravenwatch masks. "Where is the cross now?" Amir pressed.

"I don't know where it is now," Jameel said, looking up sharply at the young man, who flinched. He sighed. "Forgive me." Amir nodded and lowered his head, giving a soft cheep. The Red Owl sighed again and put a hand on his shoulder, which the boy hugged before moving to follow Desmond to eat a plate of food out of the way of the elder's work. "Eternal Novice is right," he muttered as he pulled the arrowhead from the table. He needed to make sure he didn't miss any details that would be crucial to making the armor. After a moment, he added, "It completely disappeared. Gone. Nobody told me it was a Piece of Eden. Everyone left me questioning..."

He looked up as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Lex took a seat beside him; the Arabic felt good on his lips as it flowed from his tongue: "Don't worry about it. Okay? We've got enough to deal with without that silly thing."

Jameel nodded and looked at the drawing once more. Gas masks...lightweight but tough armor... This is going to be a chore. If the mercenaries catch on to what we're doing, they might just make something that'll completely throw off our plans. Their Templar employers have to die before that happens! His thoughts trailed off as he heard a small chuckle next to him, giving Lex a questioning glance as he laughed a little more.

"Have you gone mad from the weight of all this?"

The Sparrow shook his head and smiled. "I'm not losing it, don't worry. It's just hit me that we've got to take down three huge guys, plus the Crows, and..." He threw up an arm. "And what does my mind come up with as an immediate stress relief?" Jameel shrugged, not knowing the answer, only to have Lex lean up and peck his lips. From her vantage point, Serenity raised a brow. Jameel smirked a bit, then gave Lex a gentle push back in the chair. What a sneak you've become. Catching the other three inhabitants of the room watching them, he gave them a warning stare and put an arm around Lex, drawing him back to the parchment.

The two men worked for a few hours on the designs, Lex sketching the modern armor as best he could with the quill and helping to translate it over to what was available. Eventually, they settled on a design. For the gas mask, a layer of cotton cloth inside two layers of leather, the leather studded with holes over the nostrils and mouth to allow its wearer to breathe. For the armor, a jack of plates with regular felt and canvas layering with an added extra layer of leather on the outside and inside.

Jameel sighed as he pressed his hand to his brow, a headache forming. Setting the sketches aside, he dropped his head to the table. Damn arrows. Damn mercenaries. Damn war. He sighed as he felt fingers passing over his head. The Sparrow propped his feet up on the back of one of the other chairs, back pressed to the man's side as he stroked his head. He looked up as Desmond waved to him.

"We'll be back." The Eagle pointed to the Coal Tit, who was already at the door, drawings in hand. "He knows a guy who'll help us with the armor." The two Assassins hurried up to the streets and toward Leonardo's workshop. After all, the guy made helicopters and tanks, Desmond thought to himself. If he can build a tank, he can make body armor.



Outside of the apothecary shop, Steel Rhino and Iron Elephant were talking to each other again. It was only a brief report, an all clear on both fronts. They quickly parted ways, moving past each other with their respective posses. Across the street, Leonardo hummed, jumping when two hands touched his shoulders. He spun around and looked at them, sighing and touching his hand to his chest.

They moved inside as Iron Elephant and his men halted, the elephant head turned toward the shop. From the window, the Assassins and the artist watched. This group was carrying an assortment of weapons: swords, maces, pikes, and axes. For a moment, it looked as if he was going to come to the shop. Then, "Signore!" Even the ones inside the polymath's abode looked up as the tiny Spaniard strolled up to the tall man with the spike-studded shield and giant mace.

"Nico, sei impazzito?" Leonardo hissed, biting his lower lip as they watched.

"Señor, un momento, por favor," the one Leonardo called Nico said, his native tongue slipping through. "I know I cannot tempt your friend with the halberd by now, but may I interest you or your men in some of my tinctures? Only a few florins, signore, a paltry sum for a man who can afford such grand armor. And might I say of that armor: Estupenda!"

"If you cannot tempt my brother, you will not tempt me or my men. We are well taken care of, as you can tell." He leaned on his mace, looking down at the small figure. "Now, do you wish to continue selling to men who won't buy?"

"It cannot hurt a man who must win bread to try, signore, but I know when I am beaten." Nico pulled a low bow to the guardsmen. "Buona sera, signori." Giving the young man a few seconds to move aside, the heavily armored troop marched out. Hearing Leonardo let out a breath he'd apparently been holding, the Assassins turned to the polymath once again. Amir produced the parchment from his robes, along with the bag of his earnings.

"Here, Papa. We need at least six of these made, as well as these," and he produced another sheet of parchment and handed it to Leonardo. Desmond stared at Amir. Papa? The bartender settled for watching for any more patrols instead of trying to figure out just why Amir had called Leonardo his father. Outside, city guards patrolled, the armored nuts among them more often than not, people went about their busy days, a few children racing between their legs.

It's like they've got no idea what's going on right in front of their faces, Desmond thought. Oh, yeah, right. They don't. He looked up at a tap on his shoulder. "We'll be heading back now."

"You know, right about now Lex would say something stupid," Desmond commented. The Coal Tit looked at him flatly. "Oh, c'mon, don't tell me you've found a way to ignore it or actually like it when he does something like"--he struck a pose and pointed to the door--" 'To the Bird Cave!'?"

"Never do that again."

The two set off down to the Lair once more. As they made their way toward the dry entrance, Desmond was forced to heft up Amir and toss the both of them into the nearest hay cart, the Steel Rhino and his band rounding the corner. Two of the men poked at the hay half-heartedly, but quickly rejoined the group. Crawling from the bottom of the cart, they entered the Lair.

Inside the hide out, Jameel and Lex still lay at the table. One of the Red Owl's arms was draped loosely over Lex's shoulders, the younger man's head resting against his chest, looking almost ready to tip into his lap. He still held the arrowhead in one hand, fingers fumbling with it in his sleep.

The Eagle walked over and took the arrowhead from his hand as Amir surveyed the room. Where has the woman gone? wondered the Coal Tit. His pondering was interrupted as Jameel crashed to the floor, having started as the arrowhead was taken and fallen to the floor. The Master Assassin looked ragged, stretched thin, as if he had seen lifetimes of death, war, and destruction. Amir knew he had, too. Lex looked at Jameel blurrily as he fell, taking the chair with him. Standing the chair upright, he pulled Jameel up.

The two went to the blanket and laid down beside one another.



Lex lifted his head from the pillow and rubbed the grit from his eyes. He sat up, popping his back and neck in the process, and sighed, stretching the kinks from his arms and legs with further popping. He looked at the man beside him. The Red Owl still slept, a hand on his leg. He ran a hand over the other immortal's dark hair before going over to where Desmond lay with Amir on another makeshift bed, the arrowhead sticking out of his pocket. Stooping down, he eased the arrowhead out of Desmond's pocket and into his own.

"Say something about you and going out. I dare you." The bartender's voice was low and warning. He glowered at the younger man. The other flashed him double OK signs with his fingers, heading for the door. "I'm not getting blamed if you die by being mauled by some exotic pet."

"There won't be any mauling done. Just dropping this by Leo's so he can have it for the armor and getting back here."

"You say that like you're not a blundering idiot. In fact," he said, pausing long enough to sit up straight, "what's gotten into you that you are acting like a blundering idiot? You feel like you have something to prove?" The smaller one shrugged before heading for the exit. He stopped. "What?"

"Tell Jameel... Nah, never mind." He knows already. He shook his head and mounted the stairs to the world above. Night covered the sky again in star-dotted darkness. Metal Lion, he saw from his hiding place in the hay cart, was on the prowl. Again, his silhouette kept the guards awake. Ravenwatch had come out to play as well.

Taking a breath, he slipped from the cover of the hay and made his way along the streets. Crazy Legs kept moving around, the guards remaining awake every time he passed. Eventually, he found a guard asleep on the job atop the roofs. The guard shrieked like a girl when a roar rumbled right by his head. Lex didn't blame him--his ear drum was probably shattered. It sounded like the helmet amplified the sound, rousing the guards within several roofs' worth of range. The Sparrow wondered briefly if the amplification had been intentional or not. Whether or not it was, the one doing the roaring seemed to like it well enough; Metal Lion laughed at the guard he'd just awoken, then continued on.

Below, Lex hurried on toward the polymath's shop.



Serenity had spent most of the evening and night deep in thought. She felt the group's chilly attitude toward her as palpably as if Venice had had a freak ice storm and knew they didn't trust her. Well, I don't trust these newcomers, or the changes they've made in Jameel.

The Red Owl had always been stoic; she'd often found him alone, brooding atop one of the towers of the noblemen's houses or the churchs, or on the off chance in the crow's nest of a docked ship, staring out to the west. He had never opened himself to yet. Yet... Yet with this little brat he's...! The little boy had wrought a profound change in him. He spoke softly to him, caressed him when he was wounded, bound the wounds for him, allowed himself to be held in his sleep by him and returned the embrace fiercely. Let himself be kissed full on the mouth!

That little catamite has him wrapped around every one of his bony fingers! From where she sat, she looked at hte sleeping men. Jameel was curled on his uninjured side, arms stretched out toward the side where the catamite had laid, as if yearning to hold him again. The other two lay on their pallet side by side. Amir vaguely intrigued her, seeming to know far more than a boy his age had a right to for a reason she couldn't place--perhaps it was the way he spoke. Desmond was still a mystery to her, on the one hand seeming a qualified Assassin, on the other a bonefied fool. She looked at Jameel once more before rising and moving to the wardrobe.

Discarding her robes for simple cotton breeches and a tunic, she pulled a thick, brown woolen cloak around her shoulders and slipped out of the hide out, walking into the marketplace.



Leonardo looked up at pounding on the door. Opening it, he was almost knocked over by a white blur, which knocked itself over with an array of boxes stacked like Tetris blocks along the floor.

"Ouch." Lex lifted himself from where he'd fallen across the crates. "Buona notte, Leo. Sorry about the rush."

"No need to apologize, my friend. I hear my namesake on the roofs as well as those guards. Those roars are fast becoming annoying." Lex lifted a brow at the artist's annoyed tone but held out the arrowhead, which was quickly plucked from his grip. "Interesting." The man held it up close to his face. "Quite deadly as well. Is this...blood?" A nod. "Dio mio. Whose?"

"My lover's." The polymath took his turn in raising both his eyebrows to almost touch his red beret. "He's getting better. Don't worry."

"Is this for the armor designs?"

"Yeah. Thought you could use a look at what we're up against. At least, part of it. The other part's--" Lex jumped backwards as a roar sounded from the roof, falling over the crates and tumbling end over end onto his stomach, hidden blade planting itself in the floor as his finger accidentally released it. "Jesus..." He sat up, rubbing his neck. "I think I got whiplash..."

Leonardo moved over and took him by the arm, helping him up and over the crates once more. "Grazie."

"Di niente." The older man tightened his grip as the Assassin made for the door. "Un momento." He looked at him, almost thoughtfully. "Take care of each other. And make sure there is no one else who finds out what you've told me so easily. We are of a kind, you and I, but others will not see it so lightly." He gave the boy a wan smile. "Poor men are subject to the whims of the rich, and all subject to the church. Artists are allowed as much freedom as the will of their patrons dictates."

Lex gave him a devil-may-care smile in return. "Well, since we Assassins are subject to our own dictates, the vigilantes that we technically are, I'd say I can tell them to go back to twiddling the thumbs they've shoved up their asses and sat on for so long."



Jameel bolted upright at the roar, heart almost leaping from his chest. Shutting his eyes, he willed his breathing back to normal, pressing a hand to his forehead. Damn it. I was getting some good sleep, too. It was some of the best sleep he'd had in a long while. Not the best, but... He frowned, having felt only air beside him with his other hand. He opened his eyes and looked.

No Lex. He looked around, standing and stretching the kinks from his muscles out of habit. Frowning, he moved to the corridor and peered into the room where Serenity had slept. No Serenity. Returning to the room, he found Amir and Desmond awakened as well, Amir already on guard and Desmond looking annoyed at his slumber being disturbed.

"How was your sleep?" asked Amir, looking at Jameel's harried expression.

"Great," answered Desmond from beside him.

"Not you," the Coal Tit snarled.

"Better than the previous attempts at sleep. Now," the Red Owl said, pointing to the empty spot where he'd slept, "I'm sure you two know what question I'm going to ask by now."



The young immortal pressed his back against the wall and checked around the corner, making his way down the street afterward. Slipping through the meager crowds of night owls, he headed for the square that would lead to the old Lair. Hearing the clank of metal on tile overhead, he threw himself into the nearest hiding spot he could find, an old well.

Metal Lion jumped from one roof to another and hurried on out of his line of sight. Whoa, that was close! Shifting himself bit by bit, Lex hooked his arms and legs over the rim of the well and rolled off onto solid ground. Quick, quiet, and pale from the close encounter, he slid into the doorway of the Lair and made sure it was shut behind him before taking the steps almost two at a time down to where the other Assassins were up and about.

"Hey, guys," he panted, looking to where Desmond and Amir sat on their bed, then to Jameel, who was glaring at Desmond from where he leaned against the wall. "Morning."

"Were you seen?" Jameel lifted his gaze, though the glare didn't slacken. If Lex was seen, the Templars would have already set someone to follow him to the hide out. Lex would have broken the third tenet, however unintentionally, and... He clenched the fist of his hidden blade arm. The invaders would have to be repelled, that's all.

The younger man shook his head. "No, wasn't seen by anybody. A few close calls, but not seen by anybody."

"Good." Jameel strode toward him, closing the distance in three strides and leaning down over him. "Because if you were seen by that b*****d lunatic outside, he'd make sure to either kill you or tear the information out of you and then kill you. He won't care which." Looking down, he realized he'd taken hold of Lex's robes, nearly holding the Sparrow clear from the floor. Lowering him down to his feet, his fists still bunching the fabric in them, he asked gruffly, "How are the weapons?"

"They're coming along." Lex lifted his hands and worked Jameel's fingers off his clothes. "He's got all the materials for weapons and armor. I gave him him the arrowhead too."

Letting out the breath he'd been holding, Jameel nodded.

"What if we are seen?" Amir asked suddenly. "If one of us is severely injured or killed by them, what then? There must be something we can do to prevent our ranks being thinned to nothing. Recruitment?"

"Where to begin?" The Red Owl's gaze snapped to the entrance Lex had come through as another roar sounded to awaken the sleeping guards. Grasping the Journeyman by the scruff, he dragged him back to where the others sat. Not tonight. We won't be doing any recruiting tonight. Not many civilians from the streets would live up to the expectations of the job. The roaring maniac only made matters worse in that department. Metal Lion would just chase the recruits and murder them brutally, thinning the Assassin ranks further. The Master Assassin looked down at the others, then the one beside him, his fist tightening until his knuckles shone white. The Assassins they had were precious.

"With offing the Lion," Desmond suggested.

"You forget about his help." Jameel pointed to his side.

"Do mind games work on this guy?"

"He learns, unlike most lunatics. I've had to use a different strategy each time. He's not one to fall for the same trick twice."

"What if we each pesterd him at different times and different ways?" asked Lex.

"He may catch onto that too. His paranoia makes Sibrand look personable."

"Jameel, you pick the worst people to have as enemies," Desmond muttered.

Jameel punched the wall with the flat of his fist. "I never chose my enemies, Desmond! I've told you they're of Kadin's lineage. I never understood why Kadin hated me so much, and I never wanted any of this."

"Oh, let's see, considering what we know about Templars," Desmond mused. "He could have been a greedy, envious a*****e."

"There had to be a reason, Desmond."

"Older children piss themselves when the parents bring home a new baby sometimes to get their parents' attention again." The older immortal looked at Lex, who shrugged. "Introduction to Psychology class in school. Jealousy of you being younger might've sparked it off."

"Possible. Very likely," the man admitted, turning his gaze to inspect a crack in the wall. "I'll never know for sure now." The others looked at him quizzically. He gave him a chilly smirk. "I killed him in the middle of the night. He couldn't exactly speak after that."

But the killings never stopped there. When Kadin's children became involved, he killed them, and when their children became involved, he killed them, too. It was a neverending, vicious cycle, and being bound by the Creed, Jameel couldn't kill their pregnant wives or the young children. He looked down as he felt Lex slip away from him, moving to the table to get a drink. He shifted from the wall as well, walking with his hands clasped behind his back.

Amir looked at Jameel, watching him move. "Who would we recruit in this city?"

The Red Owl stopped, having turned to face him. He simply stood there, hands behind his back, standing straight to his full height, statue like. Only the frigid stare meeting his eyes and the tight rise and fall of his chest told Amir that the man wasn't just sandstone covered in flesh and clothing.

"Good question. I don't have all the answers to everything, Amir. If you were in my position, what would you do?"

"If I were in your position, Jameel, I would arm myself, kill the target in question, and draw from your allies and those who know Venice to gain recruits," Amir responded just as crisply. As Jameel opened his mouth to respond, he held up a hand, stalling the man's words, and listened. There was nothing to hear. "It's not dawn yet?" he said, looking at Lex, who shook his head. He turned back to Jameel. "The Lion hasn't roared from some time. Are all the guards awake in the city, or has he switched with one of his brothers?"

"They don't normally switch unless absolutely necessary. That I know--I found out the hard way." The four men looked at one another. Jameel reached back and drew his hood up over his head, moving toward the exit.

This was an unwise decision, he knew. Chandra was long dead and he'd taken no other owls in, and sending one of the younger, smaller Assassins was out of the question, no matter how skilled Lex and Amir were. He had to take the risk for the reward, however little reward it might be. Jameel ventured outside.