“Daisy Silver, she’s new in town, and she’s been around the block,” Hollyhock answers for me. I recognize the alias but not the phrase she used. Clingstone looks me over once more and shrugs.

“If you say so. C’mon, got something you’re gonna like.” Getting up from his chair and Clingstone leads us over to an open crate. He produces a metal briefcase from inside.

“Here we are,” he opens the case. A gun of some kind lies in black foam with three sleek metal cases that I guess holds the ammo for it. I’ve never actually seen a gun before. “Desert Eagle, hot and fresh for you. Should you decide you want to make a statement.”

Hollyhock takes the weapon in her hand. She inspects it like a Wizard inspects a tome or a relic. She closes her left eye and looks down at the top of it. Pulls a little lever and something slides out of it, then she pulls the top and catches the bullet that flies out.

“This it?” She asks. Clingstone smiles.

“Of course not. You’ll notice these,” he picks up one of the metal packs. “Hollow points, for when you’re really trying to be bold.” He puts it down and picks up another. “Explosive. For when things get messy,” he says with a wink. “And the Pièce de résistance,” he announces the last one.

“Depleted uranium rounds. We’re talking bleeding-edge shit here.” Hollyhock takes the case, popping one bullet out to examine.

“Uranium? Isn’t that radioactive?” She asks, still holding the bullet. Before Clingstone can answer, I do.

“It’s what’s leftover from the uranium extraction process. It no longer emits harmful radiation,” I answer, remembering my lessons on the earth sciences. If I had to guess what benefits they serve as bullets then I’d think it’s because, “it heats up quickly, very dense, so reaching a high velocity will make it punch through anything and burn on the way through,” I explain. They both look at me in surprise.

“That’s right. Your friend here knows her stuff. These will go through body armor like nothing.” The assassin nods.

“I’ll take it, two clips of the explosive, and three of the hollow points. Send it to the usual place.”

“I’ll give ya an extra clip of the DU for old times sake,” he replies.

“You’re a real peach, Clingstone. Catch you later.”

“Hold on, does your friend here want anything?”

“No thanks,” I answer. “I don’t need any guns. I can take care of myself.”

“She can,” Hollyhock chimes in with a quirk of her eyebrows.

We get back to the car and drive off. She turns to look at me.

“You’re just full of surprises, huh?” I feel like she should be watching the road instead of me.

“I figured you’d know about it, miss assassin.”

“I know what depleted uranium is,” she replies, finally turning back to look forward. “I wanted to know if he did.”

“Why?”

“If someone is selling something that dangerous, they should understand it. Otherwise, he’d sell it to any idiot who can-” she swerves around a man running in the middle of the street. “GET ON THE SIDEWALK, SHITHEAD!” She yells out the window. The man enraging her is the one called ‘Falecido’. I twist in my seat to stare at him, feeling a small pull in my chest.

It’s unusual.

“What was I saying?” She asks me, but I’m focusing on him to figure out what’s going on. But all I see is a man chasing after someone on a bike.

“Something about idiots,” I absentmindedly respond.

“Right, between the Cleavers and the Ru-Mexs firepower like that is trouble. Unless they take out the Dead-Nettles.” She turns the car so I face forward again. “How’d you know about it? The bullets, I mean.” I shrug.

“‘You have to understand how things truly are in nature, before you can change it with magic’,” I repeat the phrase that’s been drilled into me by my instructors over the years. “A thorough education of the sciences is key to effectively utilize magic.”

Hollyhock considers that for a moment.

“I guess that makes sense...kinda.”

We sit in silence for a moment. “It’s been a long ass day and something tells me this is just the first of many with you,” she says, notably soft to me.

‘The first, huh?’

“I just realized I didn’t eat all day, you hungry?”

“Yes. The last thing I ate was some Omninuggets.”

“What are those?”

“They magically change to the tastes of your favorite things,” I explain.

“That sounds dope, you have any left?”

“No. I ate them all.” She just shakes her head.

“‘Course you did. I’ve been meaning to get groceries, but to be fair to myself, I almost died. What kind of food do you like?”

“...What do you mean?”

“Like, what sort of cuisine do you enjoy?” I sincerely have no idea what she means, food back home was just food.

“The edible kind?” I answer. She snaps her head towards me, opens her mouth for a second, and then closes it.

“Forget it, let’s get something to eat.”

She pulls the car over in front of a small store, leading me inside. There are shelves all over containing plastic packages that I assume to be snacks. Hollyhock goes to the counter and whistles.

“Yo, Ock!” A petite man walks up to her call.

“Holly, you still haven’t been killed?” He replies in a thick accent.

“He’s mad cuz I made his sister realize she’s gay,” she explains to me.

“No, I’m mad cuz you ghosted her.”

“Whatever, that was months ago. Let me get two chicken over rice.” The man scoffs and disappears to another section of the store. The sound of a stove turning on finds my ears, the sizzling of something hitting its heating surface.

“That’s the second time I’ve heard you ‘ghost’ someone. What does it mean?” The assassin leans on the counter to look me over again.

“I’m going to have to teach you slang, aren’t I? ‘Ghosting’ means cutting off contact with someone,” she clarifies.

“Why’d you ghost them?”

“They’re too clingy, wanted to get too close. And with my...lifestyle, it’s best for them not to go down that road with me.”

‘Noble, in a way.’

“Hmm, and what if you find someone who’s not only okay with it but can handle herself?” She pauses for a moment.

“Then I guess she and I can get close,” she suggests with a wink. My face heats up a bit.

“HOLLY! YOU WANT WHITE SAUCE?!”

“YEAH!” She answers back. “Ok, quick slang tutorial.”

She educates me on how people colloquially here while we wait for our food. From greetings, slick terms, insults, and variations of a certain word that she told me not to say.

“Here’s your food. You’re lucky your friend is with you, otherwise, I’d spit in it!” He says.

“Love you too! Peace out!” She dismisses his hostility.

The assassin takes us back to her place. She hands me my food as we sit on the couch.

The chicken is delicious, its spices spit fire across my tongue that the rice and tomatoes extinguish before it overpowers my whole mouth.

“So, tell me, is it hard to kill people?” I ask her. The question has been on my mind since she told me that she’s an assassin. Hollyhock doesn’t flinch at the question. I doubt she flinches at much.

“Hmmm, light dinner conservation,” she wipes her mouth. “Nah, human beings aren’t that hard to kill. Poke them hard enough with a stick and they die,” she answers.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she says, more serious this time. She takes another bite of her food. “Ummm, at first; yeah, it was. But once you do it so many times, it doesn’t carry the same weight as before. You spill enough shit on a carpet, after a while, it doesn’t matter what else stains it,” she asserts. ‘Stain’ she used that word when we first met. She didn’t want the stain of seeing someone die on my soul.

‘She isn’t as cold as she thinks she is.’

“How’d you get into this line of work?” I’m not interested in my food anymore, putting it on the table next to us. She puts down her fork.

“I was raised into it,” she says. Her eyes lock onto mine as a steely expression takes hold of her face. “For reasons, I’ll never know, I was on my own as a kid. I don’t know how I survived so long in this city by myself. My earliest memory is digging through garbage for something to eat. Being a beggar here isn’t a viable option, most people aren’t that much better off than you, and those that are usually can’t afford to help.”

She pulls her legs up onto the couch and our knees brush each other.

“And it was like that for years. I was either scavenging or straight up stealing food to keep myself alive. But the place where I was squatting,” she stops to explain “staying without permission. A gang was moving in. I think they were the Cleavers, anyway I got out of there and went to Saffron Cro. Figured it was a nicer place, could steal some better food.”

A laugh escapes her mouth, but it’s cold and hard. She deposits her food next to mine.

“I kinda had this fantasy, in the back of my mind, that some rich person there would see this poor, dirty, little black girl and adopt her out of the kindness of their heart.” She closes her eyes to think about it. “But that didn’t happen. In fact, the first day I was there someone saw me dumpster diving and called the cops on me. Can you believe it? I was a kid, maybe nine or ten, I honestly don’t know.”

Hollyhock smiles as if the memory is funny to her now, but I see the pain in her eyes.

“The cops in Saffron Cro come faster than a virgin in a brothel. I tried to run but I was malnourished and the cop had a car so it was hardly fair.” Another fake smile flashes across her face for a second. “He threw me in the back and I was thinking he’d take me to the station to get a meal at least.” The edge of her countenance dulls as her voice gets quieter. “He didn’t take me to the station, the precinct, or juvie.”

I watch her neck as she swallows air, recollecting the event. She drops her head and stares blankly at her own legs. “Instead, he drove me out to Hemlock Estates. He dragged me into one of the houses there. His place was sparse, he lived alone in a house too big for just him. It didn’t even look anyone really lived there. I got tossed into some room and he handcuffed me to a radiator,” she gesticulates a handcuff around her wrist. “There was a bed in there, too big for a kid but there was kid stuff in there.”

She’s quiet for a moment.

“I still remember the stench of the room, it always smelled like sweat; grown man sweat. The scratches on the floor from the door always opening and from the bed being moved constantly. And that camera on the tripod, aimed at the bed. I don’t know how long it was but that cop came back, looking at me like a piece of meat.” Hollyhock frowns. I’ve never seen her look so furious.

“He told me that no one was gonna find me, cuz no one was looking for me.” Tears well in her eyes and her voice catches in her throat. “Bastard told me what he was gonna do to me and that he’d hurt me if I didn’t go along with it.” A chill runs through my body. If she doesn’t say it then it must be truly heinous. “I spit in his eye. Got ready for his fist across my face. But it didn’t come. He just left. Left me in that room, still handcuffed,” she continues.

Even though I see her in front of me, a grown strong woman, I feel that scared little girl instead.

“Might’ve been a day later or maybe two when he came back. He had snacks in his hands. And I was so goddamn hungry,” she says while clutching her stomach. “Sick son of a bitch said I could have them if I agreed...I couldn’t eat them fast enough, Witch-Hazel.” She braves a smile for me. “Nothing like eating a honey bun after starving for a few days. Damn near choked on it.”

She stops to blink the tears away. I regret asking the question. Regret that I’ve trudged up what is obviously a painful time for her. Regret that she’s shared so much with me and I’ve barely shared anything with her.

“I was getting ready for...what was to come. He turned on that camera and that’s when my life changed. The door crashed off its hinges and standing there like an angel of justice was Tamara. The cop didn’t have his gun on him, he already had his belt off. Not that it would’ve done him any good. Tamara already had hers out and ready. Put one in his head, two in the chest. Dead before he hit the floor. Tamara saw her target first, then me. Koki’O came into the room second, she was watching her back. They got me out of there and took me in. Gave me a name, taught me to read and write, and how to kill. That’s how I became a Bay Leaf-”

I can’t hold back anymore, I lurch forward and wrap her in a hug.

“I’m sorry that I made you talk about that. I should’ve known it wasn’t a happy story. I’m sorry that you had to be alone all those years and I’m so sorry that you had to go through all that,” I say so fast I’m not sure if it was coherent. Tears start to trickle down my face. “I’m sorry that this world has been so cruel to you when I’ve been so fascinated with it.” Though I took her by surprise, she returns the hug. Wrapping her strong arms around my back.

“It’s okay. That’s my sob story, lotta people have one, especially ’round here,” she assures me with a pat on the back. The pounding in my chest is so strong I’m sure she can feel it. I lean back and start to wipe the tears from my eyes.

“Branches of Yggdrasil,” I say “You must think I’m such a fool, crying over something that only happened to you.”

“Nah. It’s...nice. Nice that you care enough.” She glides her tongue over her teeth. “I’ve never really told anybody else that story. Tamara and Koki’O obviously know since they were there but, no other Bay Leaf knows that about me,” she confesses. I’m stunned.

‘How can she just trust me like this?’

Almost like she read my mind, she says,

“If you wanna make it even between us; you could tell me about yourself,” she proposes. I nod in agreement, take a deep breath.

“I also never met my parents.”

“Oh shit, this oughta be good.”

Chapter 5 End