The White Assassin Read Online Free PDF

shocking.
    “Oleander,” he barked, trying to jerk away, “let me go!”
    They fell to the ground. “Quiet!” she whispered in his ear, her heavy drawl evaporating. “Do you want to get us both killed? Now listen closely. We don’t have much time!”
    “What?” shouted Carn in disbelief. “What did you just say?”
    “Keep your voice down,” she said. “I know you’re not a swamp rat. You must meet me by the ancient willow, just after dark.” The horde was beginning to observe their exchange. Using her feet, she rolled him on top of her, pretending to tussle with him in the grass.
    “What ancient willow? Where?”
    “It’s the largest tree you’ll find, just outside the front gate. You can’t miss it.”
    Carn spun her back over. “Who are you?” he demanded.
    “Did you already forget my name?” she asked with a subtle southern inflection. She laughed softly. “I’m Oleander.”
    “I don’t understand,” whispered Carn.
    “It’s all right,” she said calmly. “We’re not all as dim-witted as you think.” Her dark eyes flashed in the sunlight. “For now, that’s all you need to know. See you after nightfall, then.” Abruptly she sprang up and dashed out of view, hiding herself within the ranks of the horde.
    Carn lay on the ground, utterly dumbstruck.
    The sun had set. The horde had settled in a heap. Carn lay nervously next to Thicket and Stono, trying to figure out how to slip away without Thicket wanting to go with him.
    Carn turned on his stomach and spied the corroded gates at the edge of the plantation’s gravel footpath. Like old bones, the gates hung open—skeletal creations, falling off their hinges, ruined relics of their former grandeur.
    A mosquito stabbed Carn in the flank. He whipped around abruptly, flattening the insect with his fist. Blood burst from the insect’s belly and onto his palm.
    Thicket awoke. “Corn, what you doing?” she asked groggily. “Ain’t you sleeping yet?”
    “Can’t sleep,” he said, grabbing the opportunity. “I be eaten alive by mosquitoes—going to the pond to wash off. Maybe then the mosquitoes go and bother someone else.”
    “I’ll go, too,” she said, about to arise.
    “No, no,” said Carn, “you stay with Stono.” He grinned shyly. “I wants to go find Oleander. She told me she may be at the pond tonight. I can’t stop thinking ’bout her.”
    Thicket sat on her haunches, smirking mischievously. “I knew it! You likes her, too! All right then, I stays put. Go gets yourself to the pond.” She tossed a clump of dirt at him. “You be looking grungy, so takes yourself a bath before you find Oleander. Now that Stono be clean, you stink worse than him!”
    Carn smiled. Despite Thicket’s lack of anything even mildly resembling etiquette, there was an uncomplicated sweetness about her. “I be back soon.” He quickly got to his feet and trotted out of sight before Thicket had a chance to change her mind and follow.
    Carn sped toward the gate, hoping no one had followed. He spotted the old willow Oleander had mentioned. It stood just outside the perimeter of the plantation, beyond the marked borders Telula had shown him—snake territory. If a snake spotted him, it would think him a swamp rat, devouring him before he’d even have a chance to explain he was on it’s side.
    The tree looked deserted. He saw no signs of Oleander or anyone. Maybe it was a ruse, and Oleander a lure sent by Billycan to lead him into a trap. Carn sniffed the air. After eleven years in the Kill Army, he was a veritable expert on the white rat’s scent, an odd fusion of black mushrooms and cane molasses.
    His chest heaving, Carn neared the ancient willow. It was a huge, knotted thing, wider than any tree he’d ever seen in Trillium. Its trunk looked as if it might come to life, swallowing him whole. Lumpy and puckered, its twisted exterior resembled a mass of knotted wooden mouths, poised to strike, ready to devour his flimsy rat bones.
    He