Showdown (Chyril 26th Late MT) - Open

[Lir Calysta Markby]

This is crazy! Her mind screamed as she cautiously had taken up the rear trying to hurry the two along. Instruction came from Silk which she internalized and nodded curtly. Lir hoped they were almost there, winding alley ways and assassin archers it was amazingly busy in this city.

The ship healer was ready to do as Silk requested. Shout out a warning and hide if I see someone. Hold up three fingers from behind the cover and if I hear a whistle it is a friend... She mentally repeated it to herself as she pushed forward all the while watching Silk to make sure he was not on the brink of collapsing from all the blood loss.

At least she knew the assassin escort's name, Daniel and hoped some god out there would prolong their safety due to his actions.

[Rhoddin]

The young bard looked down the length of the arrow at the bowman who now had him firmly in his sights, So it seems the game is up and he knows who I am now, well I also see him! It wasn't the first time Rhoddin had been targeted by a bowman. He had seen in enough scapes and even full blown battles to have been in the predicament before. He knew that he would have time once the arrow was released to duck, as long as he saw the bowman release the arrow that was.

Therefore, his primary concern at the moment was to keep a close eye on the man dressed in grey who would end his life given half a chance, which Rhoddin had no intention of giving him. Even as he watched the man, careful to ensure there was no loosened arrow he was unaware of, the bard drew the energies surrounding himself into an ever tightening weave of power. He wove the streams of energy he needed creating a thin ropelike constraint of power. This stream of power he wove into his voice, before he uttered his command to the man facing him.

"SLEEP"

Again he had decided to keep it simple, it was too easy to get carried away with what he might achieve. He had considered a range of other commands, including stop breathing and jump, but decided the man facing him was not necessarily his enemy, and maybe they just misunderstood each other at present.

[Vanir Alfheim]

Vanir kept his cloak hanging over his right hand, which gripped his dagger. He hoped to conceal the blade as much as possible, keeping the length of the blade parallel to his arm. He started sleeking off to the side of the alley. It seemed unlikely that the priest could take on Silk's bodyguard straight out, yet he knew the man would be unable to take both the panling and his ranger partner.

The adhiel did not actually want to kill the man in front of him, instead wishing to sink his blade into the bodyguard's employer, yet the path to Silk went through this man. Vanir was prepared to kill him as well if he could not be moved otherwise. He was committed to his quest of killing Silk this tide.

[Grey Wolf]

The Small Market was merely a couple burns away, even though the trio was hindered by Silk's wound, the old man still not allowing himself a moment to stop and rest, leaving a thin trail of blood behind himself. As they reached the Mow Alley, Anora glimpsed the clearing where Small Market was, about hundred yards ahead, with only a single intersection between her and the usually crowded patch of ground. Oddly, from the alley they were in now, she could not see a single person moving beyond the alley, the intersection approaching quickly, another alley leading right and away from their final goal. If she turned there they would need to circle the Small Market through a maze of alleys, and would need almost twice as long to reach their final destination.

As it turned out, Rhoddin's command came too late, the archer letting loose of the arrow a moment before he staggered, rubbing at his eyes furiously, trying to grasp the edge of the chimney he hid behind. The arrow flew straight at the young bard, but instead of hitting Rhoddin it struck its intended target, a death cry of someone echoing from the roof above the bard. With a clatter, a body tumbled over the edge of the roof, falling at Rhoddin's feet, a black clad man with a wide-brimmed hat hitting the stair with a sickening crunch, hopefully dead before the jagged stone turned his forehead into a bloody pulp. The archer followed a flicker later, his body having slid down the roof, falling head first upon the ground a good fifteen feet below.

The stout woman circled to the right, holding her sword at the ready, the assassin beginning to withdraw into the alley so he could hold them both back more easily. Manyana clearly did not wish to allow that, jumping forward and slashing low, Daniel's dagger catching her blade easily, a shower of sparks showering them both, as she kept pressing the advantage, weaving a dazzling pattern of slashes before her. The assassin was mostly on the defensive, merely holding her off, the two time he manage to push through her defenses, his dagger slashing at nothing but thin air, her magickal armor confusing his sight. Vanir was faced with an option of moving to the left and aiding Manyana, or slipping past the pair and following Silk and the pair of women that followed him.

[Anora Frollie]

The mantra that kept running through Anora's head got louder as she looked at the unnaturally empty market, so loud that it actually slipped softly from her lips. "Fuck!," she murmured, looking around, stopping and dipping behind some crates as she scanned the area. This wasn't right in so many ways. Where was everyone?

Turning to look behind her at her companions, she looked at her wounded mentor and asked, "How much farther can you make it? I don't like the look of this. Too fucking quiet." Her eyes left him to glance behind her again, looking for movement.

[Vanir Alfheim]

Vanir knew than Manyana stood a better chance against the bodyguard than he did, so he slipped quietly into the alley and out of his view. Silk was up ahead with the two women escorting him. It would have been quite easy to catch them, talk to the women away, and leave him alone with his greatest enemy. He sleeked into the alley, but could bear to leave the ranger alone. She could be a handy ally after this day was finished and she would need to be alive to be of any use.

Vanir turned and watched the bodyguard dance around his opponet. He slipped quietly back towards the fight, trying to stay behind Daniel. The plan was to simply get close enough to bury his blade in the back of bodyguard's neck where it connected to the skull. He wanted to finish this man in one strike, since he was completely outmatched in skill. It was going be a matter of timing, quiet, and the will of the Pan's Blood.

ooc- Hopefully I didn't assume too much, but it seemed Vanir could get into the alley and just double-back. Poke me if I need to change it.

[Rhoddin]

As the man in black crashed to the ground at Rhoddin's feet, the young bard saw the archer in grey also slip to what he presumed would be his rather untimely death. Damn, that wasn't meant to happen! The young man was annoyed that he had not achieved what he had set out too, rather than appalled at killing yet another. It seemed that having killed before, it was less appalling each time.

Still, he felt a stab of sympathy for the archer, it appeared he hadn't meant to skewer the bard rather the man above him.

Looking across the square, Rhoddin could just make out the dance of death going on between the small woman who had confronted Silk and the last of the man in blacks' guards. Even as he watched, he saw another, an elf was it, slip around the pair, apparently heading up the alley after Silk and the women with him.

By all the seven hells, this just gets more complex by the burn! Now what do I do. It seemed that as much by luck as anything else the young bard was extracted from the goings on. No one seemed left who intended to pay him any attention, so it would easy enough to just fade away, but when had ever done the easy thing?

Pulling the cowl of his cloke up, the bard began to ease his way around the square, surreptitiously approaching the pair engrossed in their own private war.

[Lir Calysta Markby]

Lir hesitated as well. She remembered bits and pieces of her home and it had changed a lot from what she can recall. The blond stopped in her tracks and ducked down. She sort of followed suit finding the path up ahead feeling a bit off.

Friend or foe...

A violet eye was on Silk to guage his constitution at the current moment, then shouted out while behind some cover. Hey! The voice was meant to carry anyone's attention if this was an ambush. Then as Silk instructed she raised three fingers up gingerly and hoped for the signal that would alert them as friend.

[Grey Wolf]

Manyana and Daniel dance a deadly dance of blades, both combatants scoring hits in the few flickers it took Vanir to get back to the scene of fight, but neither managing to finish of the opponent. Manyana was clearly more experienced and dangerous opponent, and had it not been for her wound the assassin would have bee bleeding to death in flickers. As it were, blood trickled down his forearm and three shallow cuts marred the man’s left cheek, though he ignored the pain well enough. Manyana’s injuries were hard to notice, the woman’s form shifting with each motion, though she had clearly hissed in pain at what looked like a near miss that passed by her head.

Silk nodded at Anora’s assessment, only his injury preventing him from reacting swiftly enough to shut Lir up permanently, a dagger appearing in his hand, but stopping as it was already to late. As it turned out the one-eyed girl made the correct choice, a flicker later, a hand appearing around the corner that lead to the Small Market, holding aloft three fingers. A man stepped into view a flicker later, waving them towards him, and causing Silk to rise and smile. “You’re one lucky girl. Come, we’ll better be going. Daniel won’t be able to hold that bitch up for long.” Before either of them he rose, placing an arm around Anora’s shoulder and gave her a grin, pointing towards the alley with his chin.

Vanir’s approach went undetected by Daniel, the assassin evading a killing blow by a combination of several factors, including sheer, blind luck and the priest’s rudimentary fighting skills. The blow that was meant to kill him did strike home, the dagger burying deep in the side of man’s neck and forcing him down on one knee. Manyana’s sword glanced off his forehead cutting a deep gash in the man’s skin, his instincts sending him into a sideways roll. A flicker later, the stout scout was on a run, shouldering past Vanir and down the alley. Her back to the still living assassin, she never saw Daniel bounce off from the wall and up onto his feet. A flick of hand and the dagger in his right hand was ready for a throw, his arm pulled back, eyes on the retreating leader of Imperial Scouts. He seemed utterly unconcerned by [bVanir’s[/b] presence just a few feet away, squinting the blood from his eyes, focused on the shimmering figure of Manyana just past Vanir’s left arm.

The Small Market was empty, the stalls still stocked with various trinkets and items, trio of black clad men standing guard over the other entrances. Two more lay dead near the center of the small square, along with three more people, their garbs dull grey. The Market had been a sight of battle and judging by the bright red blood pooling around the corpses it had took place mere burns ago. Lirs’ cursory examination showed that Silk was still able to move, though the loss of blood made his motions slower and he kept leaning heavily upon Anora’s shoulder. “Jacques, you lead the way now and make sure we do not run into trouble. Tim and John will delay our pursuers. Daniel stayed behind so try not to kill him if he comes down the alley in a hurry.” The orders were delivered on the move, the trio of men jumping to obey the leader of the infamous and officially extinct Brotherhood.

They had just entered the alley leading them closer to their final goal, Silk hobbling along, panting and wheezing as he tried to quicken the pace when the assassin in the lead stumbled and pirouetted deftly, before crashing to the ground with an arrow stuck in his chest. The alley mouth was a good half a dozen paces behind them, the next turn more than twenty paces ahead. A dark doorway was about three or four paces ahead, and from where they stood it looked deep enough to hide at least two of them. A mere pace forward and to the right a water-filled barrel sat, though only a single person could hide behind it without any body part being visible. A rooftop some thirty or forty paces ahead was the spot from where the arrow came. A humanoid figure was silhouetted against the sky, setting up another arrow, a mere flicker or two from launching it down the alley and the suddenly vulnerable trio.

[Anora Frollie]

Anora's taunt little body did its best to try and support her mentor, her slim arm wrapped around his waist to steady him as they began to make their way down the alley. She was feeling slightly more confident with the three other blokes leading the way, but then one of them had to go and get himself shot. "Bloody hell," she hissed, her thief's eyes darting around the market, looking for cover.

She spotted the barrel and doorway. Since the barrel was closer, she decided to try and stash Silk. "Don't argue. Stay down or so help me..." She didn't finish her threat, but he could be certain he would probably find it amusing. She then tried to catch Lirs' eye, giving the girl a flicker to notice the doorway before trying to make a break for there herself. She sent a silent prayer to any god to cover her ass while she made for safety.

[Lir Calysta Markby]

A gentle breath was expelled from her when her instincts came into proper form. Those three fingers were like a little blessing during this insane period. It seemed to cause Silk to ease, a smile seen on his face.

Lir wondered for a passing moment what the blond girl's and Silk's relationship was as they both headed where Silk directed. These assassins are everywhere! Her eyes glanced about the perimeter and then back to Silk who seemed to be leaning more heavily on the little woman's shoulders.

The healer's presence of mind caused her to watch Silk as he ordered people about, watched how things just got done. As they continued on, her violet eye widened and her body jolted into caution as the man in front was snuffed out of life by an arrow. Shit. You are lucky I can't throw lightning bolts from my hand. Lir was tired, hungry and very angry. So, she swallowed the anger to sate her hunger and looked for a place to hide.

There were motions for the little blond to keep Silk safe and attempted to hide him behind the water-barrel. Her own eye met Anora's and beelined for the doorway to hide herself as best as one can. You are so very lucky I cannot melt you with a fire ball. Her mind was used to this sort of action, but silly little phrases kept coming into her mind. Hopefully, she'll be less of a sitting duck for that fucking bastard to just stamp out of existence.

Lir looked for a weapon, or even a shield type to get them moving again. She could try to throw a dagger at the man but with the angle and distance it was rather unlikely she would hit him and by then he would have notched another arrow. Where is your calvary, Silk? Will they all let you die or are they all dead now as well?

[Vanir Alfheim]

Vanir had gone further than he ever thought himself able, yet it was not as far as he planned to go this tide. The goal was fresh in mind, Silk must die. He remembered the tortured screams of his friends in the dungeons of the palace. He remembered Silk cutting an innocent girl in order to force the priest to talk. He remembered the beautiful song of Zaure ending in those dungeons. The thoughts flooded his mind and the adhiel felt no compassion for those protecting this monster.

Silk must die and so must you! Pan, let their blood restore your strength. Let their deaths glorify your name. Let their crimes be their last in this plane. My blade is yours, my Lord Pan. Vanir knew that it was too late for second thoughts and this man was going to die somehow. It seemed only right to put the dog out of its misery, instead of letting it suffer. He went for a simple slash across the bodyguard's neck, hoping for a quick death and for that knife to simply fall to the ground.

[Rhoddin]

It seemed that in the confusion the others had forgotten Rhoddin, quietly keeping to the wall as he approached the three battling in the alley mouth. Just as he approached the misformed female that had confronted Silk dashed past the bodyguard dressed in black, who seemed poised to throw his knife at the speeding woman. Be damned she seems to be fading in and out of sight! Clearly something was odd about either her or her raiment, still the bodyguard seemed to know what he was about.

Just as he was about to cast his Voice Rhoddin noticed the elf priest about to slash at the mans throat, Good luck boyo, you don't seem the type to be any good at this sort of thing.

The young bard wasn't about to intervene, unless it was needed, so he continued his quiet approach to the alley, careful to keep his eyes open, both to the front and above himself on the rooftops.

[Grey Wolf]

There would be two views of what happened next, though the outcome would still be the same. Daniel snapped his hand forward, his dagger aimed for Manyana's back, but the blade never flew that far, Vanir's torso blocking the assassin's line of sight. The priest's dagger arced through the air, biting into the assassin's neck and bit deep into his larynx, blood gushing through the wound in a slow, thick cascade across the man's skin, his hands going to the wound and trying staunch the bleeding. Daniel's dagger did not sail harmlessly through the air, its tip finding Vanir's shoulder and sinking deep into the priest's flesh its momentum tugging against the muscle and sending a bright lance of pain all the way to the base of his spine. The man before him was dying, desperately trying to keep himself alive, but blood kept running down his skin, painting his fingers and palms a crimson read. Wheezing for breath he never found it, less than a burn left to him before he either suffocated, drowned in his own blood or bled to death.

Lir and Anora were added to the equation from outside, and that saved their lives in the alley, or at least gave them a few precious flickers more as Silk remained the archer's primary target. The old assassin peeked around the barrel, the arrow narrowly missing his head, its sharp tip cutting a long line across the man's brow, and prompted him to hide behind the barrel fully. In their mad dash for safety, the girl's bounced against the wall and found themselves in the small niche, about five feet wide and some three feet deep, Silk nearly hidden from their sight as well. A flicker later he shouted from his cover, issuing orders, whilst trying to tighten the bandage under his knee that kept him from bleeding even more than he had so far. "Jacques dead! Archer! Rooftop! Assist!" A flicker later another arrow whistled past the alcove girl's occupied, a short screech reaching their ears a fraction of a flicker later. Then all was still for a few flickers more.

[Rhoddin]

The young bard saw both knives fly, striking intended and unintended targets. It seemed that the Adhiel had been the more effective, with Silks bodyguard apparently dieing a rather slow and awkward death.

Still his knife had found a target, albeit not the intended target, and the Adhiel now sported a rather unfashionable knife sticking from his shoulder.

Rhoddin moved more quickly now, striding purposefully towards the injured elf seeking to offer some assistance, which seemed a better ploy that getting involved in the pointy end of the battle that was going on, particularly as he was having trouble distinguishing which side he ought be on.

"Steady there man, that knife wound looks bad. Don't move around, or you may severe something important, I've seen men bleed out from less," which indeed he had. Rhoddin tried to steady the Adhiel, ensuring he didn't dash off and die bleeding out on the way.

[Anora Frollie]

Anora flinched slightly as the arrow flew towards Silk then again as it moved near them. Then...nothing. Oh, she didn't like this. Anora's skin tingled as she tried to figure out what the hell that screech was. It didn't sound human, so it could have been metal on metal. But that didn't help her. She needed to see if they were safe or not. The silence was driving her crazy.

Trying to stay as close to the wall as possible yet not kick the other girl, she lifted her leg up behind her head and pulled off her shoe. Hefting it, she paused, took a deep breath, then yelled incoherently as she tossed the shoe out, looking for a distraction.

[Vanir Alfheim]

Vanir watched the man bleed from his wound, wanting his life to end quickly. The humane move would be to finish the bodyguard, however a throbbing pain in his shoulder kept him from delivering the death blow. A strange voice called out to him as a young man hurried towards him. The priest did not see a weapon, nor remembered him from Silk's group, so he decided to risk the man.

The words slowly sank in as the pain flared higher in his shoulder. Knife? Bloody hells, it seems that bastard got me instead. She is going to owe me another favor once all these men are in the ground. Thanks be to Pan for allowing to live through his attack. Vanir turned towards Rhoddin and spoke softly, a calm voice of a bard and priest.

"Thank you for your concern, my friend. I would be grateful for any assistance, however there is a man in the alley ahead that I must catch. My name is Vanir Alfheim, head priest for the Temple of Pan. The man in the alley tortured and murdered my people, so he must answer for his crimes. I am no soldier, but the gods direct my blade. Please help me?"

[Rhoddin]

Damn it all to the seven hells, now I have a problem. It seemed that the Adhiel was intent on killing Silk, well Rhoddin had sort of deduced that already, but it seemed he had a better reason than any the young bard had heard to date. Rhoddin was not particulary in favour of torturing and killing, certainly not for the sake of who you worship. He had seen plenty of that when fighting on Aveas.

Still he wasn't entirely comfortable with sticking a knife in someone, without a trial of some sort.

Looking at the Adhiel, Vanir wasn't it, the young bard nodded quietly, a decision of sorts having been made.

"My name is Rhoddin, and I guess you'd call me a bard of sorts. I assume you seek to slay the one known as Silk? If that is the case then I will assist where I can, but to be honest I would rather see him tried for his crimes, than simply stuck like a pig in a public square.

"In my experience, two wrongs tend to not make a right. And often have a way of coming back to haunt the retaliator more than the perpetrator. Still I will do what I can."

Rhoddin felt it not prudent to point out that he was actually a veteran of sorts having fought at both Bree and Aveas.

[Lir Calysta Markby]

The healer looked a bit perplexed as the girl occupying the alcove with her had took her shoe off and tossed it out with a yell. She herself listened for something more, anything that would tip the trapped little group that Silk's men had taken over and would keep them safe that last bit of a way.

If the girl tossed her shoe out, and whatever happened next, would she pick up her shoe long enough to put it on and keep running? Lir, get yourself together.

She leaned closer to listen and this time she wasn't going to stick her hand out, all the awhile she examined the doorway trying to find some visible markings as to the place it was. "Are we almost to your friend's safe haven?" Maybe there was a way in from here? Or is it just locked?


ooc: Fixing bbcodes.

[Grey Wolf]

The knife was lodged deep in Vanir's flesh, and as long as none of the muscles in his chest or upper arm move the pain was limited to a dull feeling of slight warmth. The wound bled little, though a dark stain spread outwards upon the fabric of his shirt, and with it the dullness spread across his flesh. The knife would need to be removed, and that would likely make the wound bleed a lot more, but with some preparation, he should be able to staunch it and likely follow after Manyana and Silk up ahead. The old Secretary had a good head-start on them, though he was wounded and thus probably not moving as fast as possible. In a way the chase had deteriorated into a staggering and limping train of wounded enemies and sudden allies, intent on killing each other and anyone who stood in their way.

It was not far to Ha'Penny Mermaid and Silk's safe house close to it, but the path lead through the alley covered by the archer on the rooftop up ahead. Two more turns would lead them to the Gaol and from there it was just a short run to the Mermaid. Pulling a shoe off, proved to be no problem at all, though the shout and throw did not produce any visible effect. Just a few short flickers later, another arrow was let loose, judging by the sharp twang to the left, though they did not see the arrow speed past. "Bastard missed." Silk whispered from his hiding spot, eyes on the alley entrance where his men were. "Stay put, and let the boys handle it. There's no way you could reach the bastard without getting shot." The old man's voice was cold and calm, as he shifted behind the barrel, taking a quick peek and ducking behind before he could get shot.

The door behind the girls was bare, made out of rough wooden boards, polished through yahren of exposure to elements, and blackened with layer upon layer upon layer of dirt rubbed into it by its owner. It was locked, though it moved under pressure, the groove into which the bolt had been set holding it loosely. The lock itself was old fashioned and quite simple, the kind which could be opened with a simple bent nail provided one had the least bit of skill, and of course the aforementioned bent nail. All was silent beyond it, though they were not making much of a noise just yet.

[Vanir Alfheim]

Vanir nodded his head and approached the bard slowly, the dull pain starting to creep back to his senses. "My new friend, I would have rather seen him tried and convicted as well, but he controlled our last Caesar like a puppet. I have my fears about his control on our newest one as well. The gods have tried him though and deemed his punishment as death for those he murdered. Pan has delivered me this judgment himself and I will see it through." It was only a slight deviation from the truth, but in the adhiel's mind it could not have been more true.

"I was a bard myself upon Pan's Isle and my native Kislovan, before Pan called me to his side. Our lives can often lead us in ways that we never anticipated, such as our meeting here. Is it too much to hope that you also have some skills in treating a wound? Surely if you have seen them, you must know a bit. We must hurry though before the criminal escapes us once more."

[Rhoddin]

There was more synergy there than the adhiel may have realised. Not only was Rhoddin a bard, but for some odd reason he followed the god K'Tan, native god of Kislovan, Strange days indeed considered the young bard.

As the adhiel spoke, Rhoddin examined his wound. "Aye, I have some experience with treating wounds, a former umm, companion, was quite skilled as a healer.

"Although I suspect having removed the knife, you may not be going anywhere for a while." Rhoddin looked carefully, it seemed the wound was clean, although deep.

"Oh, by the way, my name is Rhoddin. Bard of some degree, and sometimes fighter in the Kings army." It had been a long few months hadn't it!

[Anora Frollie]

Anora was about to walk out of their hiding place when she heard the twang of the arrow, slipping back into the safety of the nook. "Shit-a-brick," she muttered, turning her head towards where Silk hid behind the barrel, her eyes narrowing. His words caused her to reply, "I'd be happy to, if you could tell them to hurry their asses up. I don't like us sitting out here."

She noticed the give of the door. One blonde brow shot up, turning to face it. She had heard others talk of picking locks. You hear alot when you're able to blend in or hide under tables. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the small, curved knife that she kept there in case of emergencies. With it, she would try to remember all she had heard to picking the lock. At least it would give them some shelter.

ooc:using my luck card, please, to figure out the lock

[Lir Calysta Markby]

The door sounded like a good option and Anora after throwing out her shoe tried to pick the lock. It looked simple enough but didn't interrupt because the girl looked like she knew what she was doing.

While she let the blonde fiddle with the door, she in turn pulled a small brass mirror out of her bag and using the handle stuck it out just a bit to see if she could find the jack ass that was shooting at them. Then use the little trinket to play a light trick and hopefully help with blinding their opponent so it'll give Silk's allies a chance to kill the assassins.

Lir was careful not to stick her own arm or hand out, and would pull back the mirror from time to time so they could not target it very well.

[Grey Wolf]

Silk chuckled at Anora's curse, venting some of his tension through it, though he did not dare wave a finger at her, as the archer was far too accurate for his liking. "Such a foul mouth on such a cute young lady." He grinned, though the smile quickly vanished as his eyes focused on something down the alley. "I can't see them. I hope they did not both leave and tried to circle the bastard." He felt so vulnerable hidden behind the barrel, even though the arrow lobbing bastard could not harm him from where he was.

The curved dagger Anora carried with her was hardly a tool for the task she had in mind, its curve slightly less sharp than needed to unlock the door. Someone must have been watching from above though, as after a mere flicker of twisting the tip of the blade she caught the tumbles with it and sent it rolling, the door swinging inward on uneven hinges. What she saw was a deserted room, only a table missing two of its legs in the way of furniture, the boards nailed across the windows permitting very little in, apart from what was available through the doorway.

With the cramped space within the alcove, it was a flicker or two before Lir managed to fish out her mirror out, sticking it into the alley just as Anora started fiddling with the lock. Inverted image made it a bit hard at first for the healer to orient the reflective surface correctly, but a flicker later she had the archer in sight, and then he was gone. As the door swung open, the man leapt across the alley and onto the roof of an alley down the alley they occupied, scrambling across the rooftops, moving closer with each step. He would need perhaps a dozen or so flickers to reach the roof opposite Lir and Anora just above Silk's hiding place.