City of Lies - Lian Tanner [40]
By the time she came to the third story, her shoulders were aching and the rope was growing heavier and heavier. She pressed her ear to the wall. It sounded as if the sailors were farther up the staircase now, but Cord and Smudge were still holding them at bay. She took a deep breath and kept going.
The next bit was the trickiest. Centuries of sun and rain had worn this part of the building down almost to its bones. There were toeholds aplenty, but Goldie soon found that not all of them could be trusted. Sometimes they held right until the last minute, then crumbled under her, and she had to press herself flat and cling by her fingertips while her feet thrashed frantically for another hold.
By the fourth floor, she was soaked with sweat and had almost stopped breathing a dozen times.
To her relief, the highest part of the house had been added by someone who liked decoration. There were ledges and windowsills, and crisscross patterns in the wood, and iron curlicues that stuck out invitingly. Goldie scrambled up until she was next to the topmost window. She tested one of the curlicues and slung the rope over it.
There were no bars on the window, but it was fastened from the inside. Goldie took out the lever and forced it between the frame and the sill. She wiggled it back and forth, then wrenched sharply. The catch broke. The window groaned upward, and with a roar, the noise of the fighting poured out to meet her.
She heard the crack of wood and the stamp of feet and the bellow of angry voices. Someone shouted with pain. There was a thunderous crash and the window frame rattled. Quickly Goldie slid over the sill and into the house.
The room she found herself in was empty except for a heavy table bolted to the floor. The carpet beneath her feet was sticky. In front of her, winding down into the darkness, was a staircase.
She ran down it without bothering to Conceal herself. The whole house was shaking, and the noise of the fighting made the air as thick as syrup. She raced across the fourth-floor landing and tried the handle of the only closed door. It wasn’t locked. She threw it open, ducking backward at the same time. Something crashed past her head.
“Toadspit,” she hissed. “It’s me!”
Toadspit stepped, fierce-eyed, from behind the door. He was clutching the legs of a chair and his face was hollow with strain, but when he saw Goldie he managed a desperate grin. “You took long enough to get here.”
Bonnie slipped past him. “Goldie! Toadspit said you’d find us. Did you get the message? Did you understand it? Toadspit said you would.”
There was no time to talk. Goldie seized the younger girl’s hand and pulled her toward the stairs. “Come on, Princess Frisia. Your troops are keeping the enemy busy down below.”
They pelted up the staircase with the noise of the mob howling at their heels. When they reached the top floor, Goldie grabbed the rope from the iron curlicue and uncoiled it.
“Will it hold two of us?” said Toadspit. “Bonnie can’t manage by herself.”
“Yes I can,” said Bonnie.
“No you can’t,” said Toadspit.
“Don’t argue,” said Goldie. “Bonnie, we’ll send you down first. Then Toadspit, then me.”
She dragged the rope over to the table and wrapped it around one of the legs to anchor it. Then she tied the end around Bonnie’s waist. The younger girl’s face was stiff with fright, but she said nothing.
“Toadspit and I’ll pay out the rope as you go,” said Goldie. “When you get to the bottom, you’ll see some packing cases. Untie the knot—like this, see? And jerk the rope three times so we know you’re safe.”
Bonnie nodded, shivering. Goldie grinned at her. “Go on, Princess. See you at the bottom. Don’t worry, we won’t let you fall.”
She and Toadspit held the loose end of the rope while Bonnie climbed out the window. The younger girl gulped, then closed