The Alabaster Staff - Edward Bolme [80]
Not that Kehrsyn had taken particularly good precautions. To a seasoned stalker like him, her subtlety rang with furtive intent. Still, he rationalized, she was cautious, and that was probably more than enough in weather like that against what he presumed was an unsuspecting target.
He'd watched her study the building, moving in a circumspect circuit around it. He'd seen her study the figure that sat near one window. He'd watched her bump a massively built matron of a resident, presumably to cut her purse or some such. Though the acting was contrived, she had fast hands. He had to give her that-very fast hands, and a light touch. The matron had left, none the wiser.
The front door of the building opened again, and a group of people stepped out. They walked in roughly his direction, hunkered down against the rain. He glided out of his cover along an intercept course, hoping to glimpse a clue to their affiliation as he passed. And, as he asked them for unneeded directions, he did: they were dressed in scarlet and black, and he caught a glimpse of the dragon-heads sigil that marked the bearer as a follower of Tiamat, the Dragon Queen.
Demok touched the brim of his rain-soaked hood in thanks for their assistance and watched them shuffle off into the cold winter rain.
Tiamatans, he thought. How interesting. My masters will be most interested to hear of her escapades here.
Demok crossed back to his watch post and waited for Kehrsyn to reappear.
I only hope she is of the proper temperament to be recruited, he reflected. If not… such a weapon cannot be allowed to fall into other hands.
He saw a shadow exit the building from the upstairs window. It was Kehrsyn. His heart skipped a beat as he caught a glimpse of her. The excitement of the hunter when he sees his prey, he told himself.
He watched the lithe, expert fashion in which she climbed back down the building, and one corner of his mouth pulled up appreciatively. She moved away, unrolling her cloak against the rain. She never noticed him slide from the shadows and begin stalking her again.
"Well, fancy meeting you here," said Kehrsyn, her smile a bright oasis in the grim, gray rain that drenched the stalls of the bazaar.
Demok pressed his lips together in an expression that Kehrsyn suspected was as jovial as his scarred face ever got.
"Massedar sent me to look for you," he said.
"Why, Demok," said Kehrsyn with mock astonishment, "I do believe that's the longest sentence I've yet heard you say."
To her surprise, he actually laughed, a single coughing snort that showed teeth.
"I'll work on that," he said.
He stepped aside and gestured chivalrously. Kehrsyn nodded and winked at him, and the two of them walked side by side through the soggy streets of Messemprar, the dense city mud unable to stick to their boots in the face of such a rain.
After several moments of silence, Kehrsyn finally said, "Is there some kind of problem? I mean, I'm surprised that someone as important as Massedar would trouble himself for someone like me."
"Explain."
"I mean, I'm just a juggler who-"
Demok raised his hand so sharply that Kehrsyn thought he was going to strike her.
"No," he said, 'You're not."
"Yes, I am," she said. "Call it what you like, but-"
"A juggler you are. You are not a 'just a' juggler," said Demok, glaring at her.
Nervous, Kehrsyn returned his gaze and said, "If you didn't look so angry, I'd say that was maybe a compliment."
"You have exceptional skills," Demok said, dropping his eyes.
"Well, I don't know if-"
"Good with people, too."
There was a long pause.
"Thanks," said Kehrsyn.
She glanced at Demok, and perhaps he nodded, but that was all the acknowledgment he gave.
They walked a ways farther.
"Does he think that?" she asked, a guilty lilt in her voice.
"Who?" asked Demok.
"Massedar," said Kehrsyn with a smile. "Does he think I have 'exceptional skills'? Is that why he sent you out to find me?"
"In part," said Demok.
"Why else?" asked Kehrsyn.
She glanced at her companion, but she couldn't see his eyes for the hood he wore.