conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about UpCate's, Assassin's, Guild with the genre: Children's Books, Growing Up & Facts of Life?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'The Assassin Game'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the first five paragraphs for this book?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Assassin Game
  It is about 4:00 a.m. when they come for me. I am already awake, strung out on the fear that they will come and the fear that they won't. When I finally hear the click of the latch on the dormitory door, I have only a second to brace myself before they're on me.
  I swallow my scream as a hood—a pillowcase?—is shoved over my head. A large hand clamps across my mouth and nose, mashing my lip against my upper teeth, and I taste blood. Weight presses down on my pajamaed chest, and panic rises as I wriggle a little to clear my nostrils to breathe. Silently, I'm lifted from my bed. Efficiently. They've done this before.
  They bundle me to the floor and flip me on my stomach, yanking my hands behind my back. My gut lurches with panic. A pinch of plastic, and my hands are trussed so tight that I can feel the blood thudding out a frantic heartbeat back and forth from wrist to wrist.
  I want to puke. I try to nod, but my neck is twisted at an awkward angle, and that hand is still clamped over my hooded face. But they must understand my compliance, as the hand is removed; I'm forced to my feet and pushed forward, one bare foot stumbling after the other. The urge to pee is extreme, but I have to fight it with everything because, hey, if I wet myself, I'm dead for sure.
  We walk; there's the shove of shoulders to either side of me, and the hands are there again, on my arms this time, pulling me to one side then another. Light seeps into the pillowcase from somewhere, but I still can't see anything other than shadows. My feet tell me we have exited the dormitory as the carpet briefly gives way to a strip of bare boards before they find the hall runner and turn left, left toward the short staircase down to the ground floor. The staircase! Will they push me? Will I fall? My fears are unfounded as suddenly my legs are swept up from under me and, with a grunt, someone carries me downstairs.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know five more paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I get up, brush off the sand. My flashlight has died for good with the last clonk it received, but it doesn't matter now, now I'm back in the light.
  Martin shrugs, puzzled. "Four or five minutes. I was looking for a wristband, but I think they've all been taken already." He looks really disappointed. "You've got one though. Where did you find it?"
  My hand flies to my wrist. "I—it was just on top of the sand. At the very back of the cave," I sputter.
  He laughs now. It's soft and a little high-pitched for a boy, but I have no clue if it's the same laugh that I heard before. He shakes his head. "There's nothing funny here, Cate."
  The way he says it creeps me out. I realize that while we have been talking, he has edged around me, so that now he is between me and the outside. I sidestep, and he mirrors me. I frown at him, and he tilts his head to one side, questioningly.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I get up, brush off the sand. My flashlight has died for good with the last clonk it received, but it doesn't matter now, now I'm back in the light.
  Martin shrugs, puzzled. "Four or five minutes. I was looking for a wristband, but I think they've all been taken already." He looks really disappointed. "You've got one though. Where did you find it?"
  My hand flies to my wrist. "I—it was just on top of the sand. At the very back of the cave," I sputter.
  He laughs now. It's soft and a little high-pitched for a boy, but I have no clue if it's the same laugh that I heard before. He shakes his head. "There's nothing funny here, Cate."
  The way he says it creeps me out. I realize that while we have been talking, he has edged around me, so that now he is between me and the outside. I sidestep, and he mirrors me.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the last five paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I look into his calm green eyes. "We never asked Alex if he sent those notes to me, did we? We thought it was Skulk who was writing them, but we never found out for sure..."
  I nod, and he holds my hand and takes me back through the doors. Some of the people look up at us as we walk up the steps, back to our seats. I count them as we go. Eleven, and Vaughan and I make thirteen. Thirteen players, one Grand Master...
  I sit down in the darkness with him, and the movie rolls on. His hand snakes into mine, and I grip it tightly, my breathing steady now, my heartbeat slowing.
  Kirsty is a former actress and has written children's plays for commercial theatre. In 2008, she won SCBWI's competition to find new writers. She was born in the UK, but now lives in Boston, Massachusetts, with her husband and daughter.
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