Page 24 of Gunslinger Girl

“Now go stand over there,” Selene instructed.

In position, Beeks looked around questioningly, clutching the globes to his chest as if they were keeping him afloat. A knot formed in Pity’s stomach. A man like him might have been at home among the roughest of the CONA convoy guards, the most weathered of the war veterans. And yet the attention of a single woman had him looking like he was about to wet himself.

“Serendipity?”

Her head snapped up.

Selene indicated the gun belt. “You may retrieve your property now.”

Pity hesitated.

“Ma’am,” interjected Beau, “I don’t think that’s a wise—”

“Honestly, Beau. If she appears to be a danger, shoot her.”

Pity continued to hesitate. Danger salted the air, though for whom, she wasn’t sure.

“Take them!” Max whispered.

Caution fueling each step, she went to the desk, took the belt, and strapped it on. The weight of it was a comfort, but she made sure to keep her hands from straying too close to the handles.

“Start juggling, Beeks,” said Selene.

Pity’s hands tingled as a spark of understanding ignited.

Eyes wide as eggs, Beeks arranged the globes in his hands. One by one, he tossed them up until all five were arcing through the air.

Selene didn’t even look. “No one is brought into Casimir’s fold lightly,” she said to Pity, “and as you can see, sometimes even I make a poor decision. But Beeks’s betrayal offers you an opportunity to show me why I should let you remain here, in my employ and under my protection. Show me what kind of a markswoman you are. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Pity exhaled, mouth parched by dread. “I understand.”

So did Beeks. Two rosy blotches appeared on his pale cheeks. His brow was damp with sweat.

She knew she shouldn’t ask, but she did. “What if I miss?”

“Don’t fret about the curtains, dear.”

“I mean, what if I miss the globes? Or… hit him?”

Selene leaned back in her chair. “Then you’re not a very good shot, are you?”

A whimper escaped Beeks.

Breathe, Pity told herself. Relax. The grips of the revolvers warmed in her palms as she timed the balls flying through the air, crossing paths but never colliding. She wondered whether it was skill that kept Beeks from dropping the globes or fear.

She raised one gun and aimed. Her hand twitched and then held steady. Inhale, aim, she thought. Exhale…

Bang!

One of the globes exploded as it hit the pinnacle of its arc, showering Beeks in glass shards. His rhythm faltered.

“Don’t stop,” snapped Selene.

At the last moment, Beeks regained his composure and kept the four remaining globes in motion.

“You, either,” Selene said to Pity. “I’ve seen better.”

Pity clenched her teeth. She ripped the other gun from its holster.