The Alabaster Staff - Edward Bolme [22]
Kehrsyn sagged against the wall and let herself drop to the ground. She didn't care that the cold rain soaked its way through the seat of her skirt and into her leggings. Kehrsyn could hear the guards' whistles moving farther and farther away through the city. She didn't know who or what those Zhents had chased, but in all likelihood it had saved her virtue and her life. Not knowing what else to do, she reached around, found her pear still in her sash, and took it out. For some reason, it no longer looked appetizing, so she let her hand droop over her knee.
She hung her head and let silent tears of relief trickle off her nose and join the cold rain that slicked the grimy street.
CHAPTER FIVE
Ruzzara stalked the rooftops, cursing the luck that had her chasing a reluctant recruit through near-freezing rain. The throbbing chill in her feet had not abated when she'd put her boots back on. In fact, the dampness of her feet had balled up the lint in her stockings, making them even less comfortable.
Her feet slid out from under her on the slanting rooftop, dropping her hard onto her left hip. Despite the fact that her legs slid most of the way off the rooftop, dangling over empty space, she appeared merely inconvenienced. She stood back up, muttering an inventive string of rural invectives and rubbing her hip.
Ruzzara had seen the confusion in Hooper's Alley, seen how a premature whistle had sent the city guard, the deputized brute squad, and a hopeful bounty hunter all running in the wrong direction, chasing their own alarm like a stampede of maddened bulls.
She wasn't sure how the young lass had done it, but it was very clever. In fact, Ruzzara hadn't expected the young girl to do that well at all. She'd thought the guards would have long since taken care of the "murdering thief," forever concealing Ruzzara's role in the killing. Instead, she searched in the rain, trying to find the thief again.
Ruzzara wasn't sure where the thief had holed up, but she figured circumnavigating the block on the rooftops would flush her out eventually. Ruzzara peered down into the alleys as she sauntered along, looking for motion or likely hiding places. She hoped she'd be able to find the vagrant, whose fear of Ruzzara's power made her a useful tool and whose evident skill made her an effective weapon.
She found her, sitting on a stoop. Ruzzara smiled with relief, then her face darkened into a frown. The young lady was down on the ground, while Ruzzara was on top of the roof, three stories above.
She contemplated using her magic to spider climb down the wall, but her digits were only just starting to tingle with returning sensation. She had no desire to pull off her gloves and boots and press her numb hands and feet to the cold, wet stones yet again.
She had a better idea, more comfortable… and more dramatic, besides. She had long before purchased a ring-a magical circle of silver-that protected her from dangerous falls by floating her slowly to earth. She'd bought it for protection, a magical safety net, but it occurred to her to use it aggressively. She rocked it back and forth on her middle finger with her thumb. It was an unconscious habit. So much wealth tied up in one little object made her check its presence almost continually.
Ruzzara moved as quietly as possible along the rooftop until she was opposite the young thief who cried quietly in the alley. Fidgeting with the ring to reassure herself, she crouched down and let herself lean forward. As she felt herself start to fall, she pushed off the rooftop gently, quietly. Just as her heart started to thrill with instinctive panic, her senses realized that she wasn't accelerating; she was descending at the speed of a brisk walk. It was an unnerving sensation.
As she drifted downward, Ruzzara pinwheeled her arms once