MercyNary
George was fairly irritated by time the doorbell rang for the fourth time. Where were those guards? Why hadn’t they come to announce there was a guest? And what rude cad would ring a doorbell four, now five, times in the span of a few minutes?
He opened the door and attempted to hide the shock he felt. On the other side of the threshold stood a woman with a deathly grey complexion and posture that reminded him of a vulture. Her back was humped and her head hung low between her shoulders. She wasn’t old, but by no means was she young either. Rather than lifting her head to look at him, she simply rolled her eyes upwards, staring from beneath her hairless brow. She lifted her arms; in each hand was a guard, both unconscious but still breathing.
“These belong to you?” she rasped. It was a rhetorical question, they both knew that. Still she seemed to take some pleasure in asking anyway. She smiled a gruesome smile that made George’s stomach lurch.
“What is your business here? Do you have an appointment?” George said, attempting to maintain his professional composure even as she dropped the two men on the doorstep.
“She is my guest George.” A voice from behind him called.
George turned around, “Miss Mercy?” There was no need for him to even finish the question. Everything was understood in his tone.
“I’m sorry I didn’t inform you ahead of time,” Mercy said as she came down the stairs at the front of the entrance hall, “I wasn’t certain what time my guest was going to arrive. I thought she was going to phone first.” That comment was directed at the grey vulture woman, who remained smiling.
Despite her name, Mercy held nothing of the sort in her person. She had always been cold and calculated. Even her father had often remarked that, had she been born a male, he would certainly pass Kalwren’s birthright to her.
The maids blamed it on the way she had been treated. Though he was several years older, Kalwren had been babied and coddled his whole life. He was the last living heir to the Meadowhart estate. Everything he wanted for, he got. Mercy, on the other hand, was not afforded such luxury. She was pushed and scolded for even the slightest misstep. At fourteen, her mother put her into a corset, telling her that fat girls don’t marry well. Mercy could barely even be described as chubby at that age. A stiff bar had been strapped to her back at fifteen to, as her mother put it, “Perfect her posture. Hunch backs don’t marry well.” It was no surprise that, when her mother died in a riding accident a year later, Mercy barely seemed to flinch.
The grey woman dropped the two guards just inside the door and followed Mercy into the study. Mercy closed and locked the doors behind them. She motioned for the grey woman to sit.
“You were supposed to phone before coming by.” She said.
“I know.” The grey woman replied, still wearing her disturbing grin. “I got caught up in some…things.”
Mercy sighed. “George is one of my family’s most trusted servants, but he is not above reporting suspicious behavior to my father. You can not simply go around knocking guards unconscious and dropping them on our doorstep. Father must not hear of any of this. George will over look this once, because I intervened. Next time he will go straight to Father. If that should happen, I will certainly be your last client.”
The grey woman’s smile broadened, there was an amused look in her eye. “It may not be so wise to threaten one like me,” she said, “I am no ordinary hunter. My skills, my powers, are beyond your comprehension. I have not survived as long as I have by allowing simple humans like yourself threaten me.” The woman sat up straight, the joints in her back and neck cracking along the way. Her eyes, once black, became a silvery grey and a hint of color returned to her skin. She rolled her head in a circle, working the kinks out of her neck, then stood. She had gained a good half meter in just a matter of moments.
“Now, tell me about this woman your brother is working with.” Her smile was no longer gruesome, but looked no less dangerous than before.
Mercy was unfazed, she shrugged, “Not much to describe really. Tall, slender, golden skin tone, long dark hair, grey eyes.”
The hunter cocked her head a bit, “Like mine?”
Mercy thought for a moment, “No, slightly…not lighter, but…” she searched for the right word, “clearer.”
The hunter nodded. “I see. If she is what I think she is, I may not be able to kill her.”
Mercy shrugged again, “That’s fine. I didn’t hire you to kill. I hired you to follow.”
The woman rolled her eyes, “Well that takes the fun out of everything. Do you have a name?”
“Trea.”
The woman thought for a moment, then nodded again. “What, exactly, is it that you want from me?”
“Information. I hear you’re the best bounty hunter in the area, and I see you can manipulate your appearance, so you may be exactly what I need. She’s a cautious woman. Rather distrustful. No real friends to speak of; none living anyway. I barely believe she actually trusts my brother, I can’t help but to think she is just looking for an income and a place to stay.” Mercy pulled out a slip of paper and handed it to the woman, “This is the address to the office. She sleeps there most nights.”
“And the others?”
“Couldn’t tell you. She’s fast, even on foot.” She looked at her guest curiously, “What do I call you?”
“My name couldn’t fit on your tongue,” the woman chuckled, “but, for now, Nereza will do.”
