Dragon (S)Layers Ch. 13: Untitled

XII

City of Flames -- 6

Sarah barely had enough time to duck behind the desk before the window crashed over her. The paladin was a hair too slow getting out of the way and in a beat he had a man in leathers on top of him, dagger bearing down on his face. He'd swung Sarah's pack up under the assassin's forearm just in time to catch the blade. Yet the force of the man's attack put him at an immediate disadvantage.

Keiter and Tessarie both stared in disbelief, though the elf was much quicker on the draw than Sarah had expected. Perhaps it was the recent sex or perhaps it was what they had seen back at the temple-- whatever the reason, she made a run for the door. Half way across the room the front door blasted inward.

The spring trap on the lock pwanged into action and three steel bars slammed into matching holes in the floor. The man and the woman that got caught on the other side aimed hand crossbows at Tess.

Sarah raised her pistol. The paladin could take care of himself. She fired at the woman. The flintlock roared and the fat woman's head jerked back sharply. That moment seemed to wind down; the plume of smoke that erupted from the back of the weapon fluttered with aching slowness as the fat woman started to fall back, arcing blood from the finger sized hole in her skull. When she finally hit the railing Sarah's heart managed to beat.

Gods forgive me.

Tessarie whipped around, half ducking into the hall as the other attacker started reloading his crossbow. Another man was half way through the missing window, Sarah barely managed to get to her feet in time to get knocked back down by the new attacker.

Round and round they they tumbled-- he pulled her hair and she tried to gouge his eyes out but eventually he got the upper hand, shoved her down and straddled her chest. Hands grabbed her skull and slammed her. Again and again. Thump, thump, thump.

Sarah's vision blurred as she clawed for the man's hands. A flash of pain. Magic. Coils of white energy wrapped around the man. He fell beside Sarah, struggling to breathe. A second later the paladin upended his attacker and pinned him down. Two punches later the man went still.

He didn't give Sarah time to react before he was hauling her up. "You all right?"

"You speak as though having a man atop me is something new--"

"Down!" he shoved her to the side and grappled with another man trying to get through the window. In seconds the paladin had the man beaten down and unconscious. Gods he was goods with his hands.

A crossbow bolt slammed into the desk beside Sarah's head. Somewhere along the line the man in the hall had been joined by two others with crossbows. They'd done their homework, it seemed.

Sarah grabbed the paladin, yanking him down. "Out the window."

"What?!"

"Clear us a path! Keiter, Tessarie!" She pointed to the door. "Guests!"

In seconds she had a plan, a very loose, dangerous plan, but the best one she could come up with. In that same time Tessarie had summoned up the courage to poke her head out. She ducked back around the corner.

The small elf trembled, unable to move. Too scared to enter the line of fire and knowing there was no escape down the hall, she froze. Keiter, however, didn't. He scrabbled over the edge of the desk to get to the window while the paladin jerked the would-be attackers out of the way. "Come on, miss! We can't stay here!"

Sarah tucked her pistol into her waist sash awkwardly and got to her feet. "Go, I'll get her!"

"But--"

"Argue later. Move now!" Before the man could react she had halved the distance to the hall. Knowing the men wouldn't risk shooting her didn't make it any easier for her to get through the hail of bolts.

Fancy dress or not, dirt never looked good on Sarah's knees. She crawled as quickly as she could and tumbled into the hall. She grabbed Tessarie by the fringes of her coat and jerked her along. "Come on, sweety."

"S-s-"

"I know."

"But!" the elf tried to jerk away. Sarah yanked her all the harder, flinging her deeper into the hall before she smashed her entire forearm into a section of the plaster to the right. It gave just as she had designed it to, revealing a lever the size of her forearm.

She used both hands to pull it outwardly. A section of wall opposite the bathroom dropped in a flourish of plaster dust and cracking wood. The hallway beyond was a dusty circular mess of old books and forgotten scrolls rotting in piles that trailed down into the gloom. "Go, go, go."

"W-"

"Go!" She shoved the girl into the hall. "Meet me at the south market before dawn! Don't be late, I'm not waiting!" Sarah shoved the lever back into position.

"What about-" was as far as the elf got before the stairs dropped into one another making the circular staircase into a circular slide. She screamed even as she disappeared into the darkness with the spill of papers and books.

With the girl out of the picture, Sarah turned her attention back to the main room. There was still had one thing she couldn't leave behind.

The men outside her office were cursing violently as they tried to undo the bars, making no headway as Sarah crept up to the edge. From her vantage she could see the spell that Keiter had cast on the would be kidnapper had warn off and he was getting to his feet. Just beyond him, however, she saw what she was after.

She bolted into the room and scooped up the jar of picked sausages she'd lifted from McDowels. Barely breaking stride she smashed it into the recovering man's head and ducked to the side, not waiting to see if the attack had any effect.

"Hey! What was that?"

"Gods-- its her!"

"No it's not!" Sarah shot back as she ducked behind the crates of books. One particular crate near the back held the book she wanted, the book she needed. "Just a figment of your imagination--" a crossbow bolt punctuated her diatribe by punching into the crate she was using for cover.

"How very uncouth!"

Where was it? Where the fuck was it?! Sarah upended the crate. It was always right on top--

Had scarface's men got here first? No. No. She had been careful. None of the locks had been breached. Of course they hadn't been inside.

If so, where was the damned book?

Sarah rifled through the haphazard pile of books. Another bolt punched into the crate. Behind her the man she'd hit stirred with a pained groan. It wasn't here.

A book with a bass relief ship was easy to find amidst flat ones, even without her glasses, it was here. It was always here. Her heart punched into her throat.

"Gentlemen!" Sarah ducked lower.

"Come out and you'll live!"

"There was a book here--" This was a waste of time, she decided. She palmed a smaller book, peeked around the edge of her cover. The men were aimed at her hiding place. "Tell you what! There's an acid trap over the door which I would hate to have to trigger!"

"Bullshit, girlie! I went over every inch of this place--"

"As much as I'm prepared to indulge your fantasies about just how many places of mine you can get your nimble fingers, I should remind you that you missed the trap on the lock."

In the ensuing pause Sarah took the book between her teeth, gauging her chances of getting through the open window before she caught a bolt. The man in between her and the window was almost back to his senses. It was now or never.

She sprang forward, stopping just long enough to grab two of her favorite sausages. She used the down man as a stepping stone to get on to the desk and out the window. "Love to stay but I really must be going!" she said around the book's spine.

"Shit!"

The iron ledge just outside her window was nearly invisible from the ground floor but wide enough-- and sturdy enough-- that she could climb along it with little issue. Fortunately it seemed as though the paladin had taken her advice and gone on ahead. Perfect.

There was a lot to be said for planning ahead, and Sarah had been meticulous in her planning. The grating looped around the building to a small court yard attached to the far side of the building. Out of view from the general public, it was a pleasant place to spend an evening if one wanted some privacy.

Next to the ladder that lead to it, however, was a thin rope that connected her building and the next door tenements. The downward angle of the rope was a sharp drop from the second floor to the first.

Sarah tucked her pickled meat snacks into her sash and removed the book from her mouth. She eyed the distance warily. Had she calculated everything right? Of course she had.

Of course she had.

Pounding footsteps below signaled the arrival of a couple of new men in leathers. Something clacked against the metal grating behind her. Probably the man who she'd hit with the jar.

Twenty feet was a hell of a long way to drop, she looked down. Her breath came in quick sips as she straddled the line with the book and wrapped both of her hands around it. Gods, oh gods, oh gods-- With that thought she shoved forward and started sliding down the zipline.

Immediately the line started to sag. In a flash Sarah could see she was going to hit the courtyard wall. "Shitshitshit"

"There!" one of the men below shouted.

Sarah tucked her legs up against her chest. Ten feet away from the wall she felt someone make a grab for the corner of her dress. She looked down to see scarface sneering up at her.

It was a risk-- he was pulling her down enough to ensure she'd hit the wall but if she lost her grip she was done for any way. She risked it. She booted him in the face as hard as she could manage.

The tension released like a spring and she went sailing over the wall only to slam into the plaster wall of the tenement and fall into a heap on the cobbles.

With a low groan she managed to right herself and get her bearings. Two heads poked over the wall seconds later but Sarah was already sprinting around the building. She made damn sure that by the time they were over the wall she was gone.

*

There were only so many places in high society you could go without your papers. Fortunately, Sarah hadn't found them just yet. She smoothed her way onto the Dini estate grounds with a few words and a casual name drop, only to find out that the girl she had come to visit was attending a masquerade ball. Any hope of her getting her travel permit was almost instantly dashed.

Until she got to the grounds themselves. Getting in amongst the up and coming débutantes, ladies in waiting and a flustered baronet had proven remarkably easy, even without attire suited to the event, she had managed to find her target.

Beautiful as the day Sarah had met her, Mieleesa was the spitting image of poise, confidence, feminine grace, and just the right amount of coyness that set Sarah's heart to pattering. On the couch, surrounded by nobles and people with more money than brains, Sarah slunk closer to the girl to bask in her warmth.

"I hate to impose, dear, but I have a small problem that could be undone with your. . . delicate touch."

The girl fidgeted slightly, inching away. "I'm telling you, Sarah, I can't! My father would have my head!"

When Sarah spoke she lowered her voice to a warm, sultry purr "I would dare not place you in danger, but you must understand. Should I not be able to leave, I'll surely not be able to ensure he has what he desires, will I?"

"B-- But--"

"Think about it this way. . ." The woman slid closer to the girl, pinning her against the arm of the couch, now thigh to thigh. She smiled a little at her discomfort. She knew that look intimately. "I will see to it both of you are pleased, but I require one small thing to get started. A little travel pass. Nothing more."

"But--" the girl stopped when Sarah leaned over and kissed her ear.

"I can be exceptionally grateful, sweetheart." Time kept slipping through Sarah's fingers and so she pushed back. "Or should we tell him why you shouldn't be wearing white to your wedding?"

"I-- I--"

"Let's not argue, dear. Get the travel pass and meet me at the south gate." Sarah pulled back and motioned her on. "Off you go."

The moment of confusion passed and the girl stood and wandered off into the crowd. Sarah watched her go and only when she was out of sight did she slump back into the warmth of the couch with a sigh.

Out of the corner of her vision she caught sight of a short girl watching her in her own periphery. She was beautiful; a compact, toned girl in a floor length dress with embroidery that depicted card suits on it. She had the most mesmerizing purple eyes and while she didn't look as though she had a touch of elf blood in her, the unnatural color and slight rearward cant of her ears hinted at a lineage from the fey realms.

"Did you enjoy the show?" She abruptly looked to the girl, flashing a warm smile she didn't feel.

"Excuse me?" the girl's voice flowed smoothly. A rare treat indeed. Sarah flicked her gaze over the short woman and smiled to herself. A modest bust, a tight body wrapped in a slinky dress-- oh, but her hips were something special. Her trim waist flowed smoothly into womanly, holdable hips that were absolutely made for Sarah to put her hands on.

If only she had the time. Gods. "Come now, there's no need to be coy." She patted the bench beside her and made room. When the girl didn't join her, she leaned forward and smiled up at her. "I was gifted with a sense for when I'm being watched, dear, so please. If something you see interests you, perhaps it would be better to start with a name and a friendly hello, hm?"

The girl downed the rest of her wine in one quick swig, eying Sarah thoughtfully. She chose her words carefully. Sarah liked her immediately. "What're you implying?"

Sarah grinned a catty tell-all smile, giving her another appraising look. Oh, yes, she would be a beautiful treat. "I imply nothing that doesn't begin with a curiosity in one's own heart dear. And I dare say, yours is a very curious one indeed."

"Maybe so. . ."

"Alas, were time infinite, I would love nothing more than to indulge that curiosity. Sadly, I have somewhere to be." Sarah hauled herself up, standing a full head over the girl's diminutive stature. She was smaller than Tessarie-- odd. Sarah closed the distance between them and ran her finger over the rim of the girl's wine glass without breaking eye contact. "It shames me to leave the presence of someone so beautiful with doubt in eyes so warm, but the hour is late." She turned to leave. "Perhaps another time."

"Wait," the girl said as she grabbed Sarah's forearm. Sarah jerked free by reflex. "What do you know about dragons?"

That caught Sarah off guard. She blinked, eying the girl once more. "Enough to know that after the night I've had, I have no patience nor time to deal with such silliness. Fair eve, beautiful gambler." Sarah slunk out of the ball as quickly as she could, casting a surreptitious glance back and wondering just what she was leaving behind.

There was still one more visit to make before she could leave.

*

Novik maintained a number of safe houses throughout the city, each of them designed outwardly to resemble a traditional eastern family home. He went so far as to furnish each one with modest but respectable furniture and throw rugs. If one looked really carefully, they might even notice that every single of those safe houses were coated in had the same prescribed amount of dust; just enough to show they were lived in but never enough that the 'owner' would appear obsessive.

The same couldn't be said for his real home, however. Settled amidst the merchant homes of the lower west end, Novik's was a simple two story affair with a beveled roof and a garden atop it.

From her position on the porch Sarah could see through the bay window that the decore had changed little in the last year; plenty of warm colors, good furniture and an old world charm. It meant that Amber hadn't lost control of the house. She smiled faintly and knocked on the door.

The bright faced middle aged woman that answered the door started to smile but faltered when she saw who it was. The smiled dissolved in an instant. "S- Sarah."

"Dear miss, it has been too long."

The woman frowned. "Not long enough. What are you doing here?" She glanced around Sarah as if someone might overhear them. "I thought we agreed it would be for the best if--"

"As much as I would love nothing more than to spend an evening gazing into those beautiful brown eyes, I was actually looking to talk to your husband. . . It's a matter of business, you see."

"He isn't here and my son is sleeping. You'll have to come back later." Amber started to close the door but Sarah braced her foot against it.

"I really must insist, dear. Do you know when he'll be back?"

The woman blanched even as she gave the door an experimental push. Finding it unyielding against Sarah's boot, she finally acquiesced and slithered out of the way.

Sarah sauntered through the house to the study in the back. Precious little had changed in the last year and even now a thick layer of dust clung to the old volumes filling the air with a pleasant musk that reminded her of lost knowledge. A dozen crystal sculptures dotted the wrap around book case like tiny stars amidst a sea of multicolored leather.

And then there was the butterscotch cognac.

Decades old and imported from farthest eastern regions in the known world. And no one around to protect it.

"What's this about, Sarah?" Amber eyed her from the lip of the door frame. "Novik won't like that you've come."

Sarah didn't look up as she poured herself a drink. "Oh, I suspect he won't." She took a sip. "Ah, there's a familiar flavor."

"Sarah--"

"Regretfully, dear, I prefer to be the arbiter of who enters my home as well. Your husband seems to think I allow strange men into my home uninvited."

"O- Oh. . ."

"Indeed," she drew the word out. After a second she flashed a smile. "I don't hold that against him, though, I dare say I enjoy being the center of attention for so many strapping young men." Another smile lit her face at the woman's look of confusion.

"Well, er-- He should be back shortly. . ."

Sarah took another pull from her cognac, savoring the gentle burn as it worked its way down her throat; a little taste of warmth in a cold night. "I'm sure he will." She casually refilled her glass and claimed one of the wingback chairs in the corner of the room.

Amber crossed her arms under her breasts, frowning. "No, please, make yourself at home, I don't mind."

The half-elf leaned back in the chair with a smile. "As I recall, last time it was--"

"That was a long time ago, Sarah. I've changed."

"I can tell," she lied and patted her lap. "Why don't you come over here and we discuss just how much?"

There was moment-- just one-- where Amber looked about ready to approach, but when it faded she fixed Sarah with a cold expression. Changed indeed.

Physically she'd changed, there was no question; the years had been kind to her and even though she'd gained a few pounds, they filled out her curves generously. From the flowing swell of her bodice down to the gentle curve of her stomach. She looked more feminine than Sarah remembered her ever being. "You look good, dear."

"Don't," Amber frowned. "I know where this is going and I'm not going with you. Not this time."

It was a dull ache that burned in the back of Sarah's mind as she crossed her legs, eying the woman up and down. She let out a sight and filled the silence with another drink. "I am capable of being serious now and then, dear girl."

"I remember you said that to me once--" Sarah put her hand up to silence the woman. "Oh, no? Don't tell me how much 'the truth hurts' and how 'things are complicated'--"