The Alabaster Staff - Edward Bolme [23]
The young woman jerked her head up in fear, staring wide-eyed at the sorceress through a veil of haggard, damp hair. She gasped in recognition, and her mouth flapped in silent amazement.
"Well, at least I know you can stay silent," said Ruzzara. The young woman glanced down the alley and back at her. "Oh, come on, hon, don't look so shocked," added Ruzzara. "You think the guild lets anyone in if they can't sneak around?"
The young woman held up her hands placatingly, one hand spread wide and the other still ridiculously clutching her half-eaten pear. When the thief noticed that she still held the pear, she quickly hid that hand behind her.
She stammered a few faltering words, saying, "Please, I-please don't-I mean, I'll… just don't call the guards, please…?"
"Give it a rest, will ya, hon?" said Ruzzara. "You think I want to call them guards back here to barge in on our little private time? No thanks. You know, you got a friend out there, hon, I'd say you do."
"A friend?"
"I saw what happened. You done good, hon, moved like a regular alley cat, but I'd say Mask, God of Thieves, has a soft spot in his larcenous heart for little ol' you."
"What do you mean?"
"I sure wish I knew how you done did it, hon, I really do. I swear you were stewed like a rabbit, when all of a sudden you got the whole gaggle of guards galloping off in the whole wrong direction. Showed up just a bit too late to see your trick, but that was slick, hon, real slick."
The young woman's lip trembled. "I-I don't know what to say," she said.
"Well, I'd say you passed the test, hon," Ruzzara said with a smile. "You kept your head in a tough situation, moved nimbly and quickly, and managed to evade a fine ol' dragnet of constables and Zhents alike." She pulled the dead guard's whistle from a pocket. "So are you gonna do our job for us, or shall I give this a little toot?"
"Please!" said the fugitive in a panic. She sagged visibly. "No, please don't. I'll… I'll do it."
"Aw, now don't look so sad, hon," Ruzzara continued. "Life is full of adventure, and every adventure begins with a single step!"
"I have found more often that what the bards call an 'adventure' begins with a single mistake."
"Wow, hon, your outlook is as bleak as an eighty-year-old prostitute."
"It's not bleak," said the young woman. "It's realistic. The trick is knowing when to stop so you don't make that mistake."
"Whatever you say," said Ruzzara. She paused and raised one eyebrow. "Are you trying to sneak your hand to that dagger you keep under your bag, hon? My associates wouldn't take that very well," she added, waving a hand vaguely in the direction of the street, or maybe the rooftops.
"Uh… no," said the young woman, avoiding Ruzzara's eyes.
"Excellent!" said Ruzzara, though her eyes were as cold as steel. "I'd hate to think you looked at me as a mistake to be unmade." She studied her quarry and smiled. That was the best time to interrogate, when the last shred of hope had been taken away. "What's your name, hon?"
"Kehrsyn."
"Well, olarй, Kehrsyn. So where do you live?"
"I… don't really have a… a place to stay. Anymore." Kehrsyn's voice was very soft.
"Well, Kehrsyn, I'd say maybe your luck is changing," said Ruzzara. Once someone had no hope, it was best to be the first one who offered it.
Kehrsyn looked up, and Ruzzara saw a desperate sparkle return to the waif's eyes. Kehrsyn stood, ending up a little taller than Ruzzara, which annoyed her. It was harder to be intimidating when looking up.
"You mean I can sleep in the guild house?" asked Kehrsyn, with just a shade of fear and hope.
Ruzzara laughed. She liked the hint of desperation in Kehrsyn's voice. It was best to cultivate that by keeping the ray of hope to a glimmer.
"Aren't you getting ahead of the horse there, hon? We gotta talk about the assignment."
"Right," said Kehrsyn, and Ruzzara was pleased to see that she was focusing her