The alley was dank and smelled like a mixture of rotten eggs and old fish sticks. I held my breath and figured that at least the stench would keep away any rubberneckers.
There at the end of the alley, plastered on the red bricks of the bakery’s back, was the sigil. Silver and black paint inscribed the circular design onto the building, a dripping arrowhead near the northeast edge.
I took another look around before reaching out to touch the tip of the arrow and chanted the incantation softly.
The paint glowed, dim in the daylight, and I prayed it wouldn’t draw any other attention. It took only a few minutes until the paint dripped off of the wall itself, pooled on the ground by my feet, and swirled upwards in the air until it formed a muscular, young-looking man.
“Augh, why do you always call me when the blasted sun is out?” was his immediate complaint.
“It’s the easiest time for me to get away,” I said, glancing again at the end of the alley. “I can’t very well be off summoning you around the same time that the killing is supposed to take place, now can I?”
“Fine, fine,” he said with a grumble. “Usual safe house? Who’s dying tonight?”
“Yes, usual safe house,” I said and handed him the envelope. “All the details, as usual.”
He ripped it open and scanned the paper before looking up at me with wide eyes.
“Oh, what’s the problem now?” I asked, impatient to get back to my guild. Wordlessly, he handed me the details of the killing and my heart froze.
The target was me.