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Authors: Edward Bolme
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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 to right herself, then put her hands on her hips and assumed a cocky and arrogant stance. She landed with a light sound of crunching dirt not three feet in front of her quarry.
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 suddenyou 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
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 to right herself, then put her hands on her hips and assumed a cocky and arrogant stance. She landed with a light sound of crunching dirt not three feet in front of her quarry.
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 suddenyou 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
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