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And Clevwrith grinned, of all things.  Sorry, no
surprise.
Frowning, Despiris took away the threat she posed
with the dagger, and Clevwrith freed her in turn.
 Who is it? she wondered aloud.
 Mmm, Clevwrith brooded.  How many men?
 Just three, that I know of.
 Do they all look the same?
 What, like identical triplets? No, Clevwrith. But
they re dressed the same.
 No one important, then. Just a few extra of the Lord
Advisor s servants, probably. I dropped them a hint,
and expected an investigation of some sort. Climbing
to his feet, Clevwrith went into a swift routine of
sheathing his multiple weapons, lastly taking the one
Despiris offered him back and driving it home into the
sheath at his belt.  Now we play with their heads. He
pulled Despiris to her feet.
 By taunting them as ghosts and shadows would?
Despiris guessed.
 Not this time. Now, we disappear and hide. I want
all traces of our presence terminated. Start with the fire
pit, and do it swiftly.
With that, they parted ways.
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Spychild
At the fire pit, Despiris dropped to her knees and dug
through the ashes. Beneath their powdery concealment,
the stones were loose. Despiris pried them up, baring a
deep hollow underneath where she swept the coals and
ashes into. Then she replaced the stones and fled.
Within minutes, the two spies had made a thorough
sweep of their lair, leaving every alley as it would
appear if it had not been disturbed since its
abandonment long ago. Retreating into the complex
network of corridors that made up Madon s Keep, they
lost themselves to the surrounding intricacy, and for a
time, they didn t exist.
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Spychild
11: Rain
 He has woven a spell, a wondrous dark spell  somehow more
enchanting than intimidating  and has cast it over a world of
admirers without really meaning to, ensnaring us by the
magic of his unknowing actions, that seem magical only
because of their stark impossibility. But he has conquered
impossibility like it is no significant feat, and the spell wound
around us  called awe  holds us fast and eternally.  Words
regarding the Spylord, from a storyteller s mouth.
To know you could stand in plain sight and be invisible.
It was such a wonder that she could do that. Such a
phenomenal thing of wonder. To hone such a skill that
defied logic like that and left her a master of something
she almost didn t understand. She accepted that she had
been able to learn such a skill, because she had been
taught, but where had her master learned it? From
another spy before him? What about the first who had
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Spychild
ever honed such an ability? It didn t seem possible to
simply bear the ability within you, without being shown
and carefully taught.
There she stood, within eye vision but out of sight.
Perfectly well within eye reach  but the man searching
the alleys on Lord Mosscrow s orders could not see her.
Sheets of rain  from clouds that had gathered as the
search of Madon s Keep had begun  pelted the alley,
making the distance an indistinguishable smear.
Indistinguishable, at least, unless Despiris narrowed
her eyes and focused on penetrating the fleeting gaps
with her carefully trained eyes. Clevwrith had taught
her how to succeed in such a vain feat, when to
everyone else the cascading droplets blocked any length
of distance no matter how they squinted in attempts to
see through and catch one triumphant glimpse of
success.
Learning the skill had taken many years; if she didn t
succeed one winter, she had to wait for the next rainy
season to try again. It had taken much meditation, much
shivering out in the cold time and time again as,
drenched and chilled to the bone, her determination had
to surpass her frustration so she could focus. What a
cruel assignment, she had thought so many times, but
she had finally cast the bitterness from her mind when
she realized it was clouding her focus just as other
thought and emotion did.
Now, Despiris looked through the rain and watched
the man coming her way. He struggled through the
sky s relentless falling tears, staring this way and that,
halting finally with a sour look on his dripping face, an
image of bitter defeat.
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Spychild
They stood facing each other, openly sharing the
same alley, but Despiris knew he did not so much as
glimpse her. From his point of view, the alley in front of
him was as good as vacant.
As the man let out a huff and continued dutifully on
his way, apparently deciding he did not want to risk the
lord advisor s displeasure, he was the perfect image of
pure misery. Despiris, on the other hand, felt quite
gleefully the opposite. She was delighted by the result
of her ability, this being the first time she had actually
been able to test it so thoroughly. In the past, she had
only used it to look through the rain in search of things,
or Clevwrith, or to find her way through Madon s Keep.
This ironic way of eluding her hunter, while staying in
eye reach directly in front of him, was such an amusing
act. Smiling to herself with childish delight, Despiris
kept at it.
She led him on, envisioning herself as a ghost
drawing him forward. This way, little man. Come on.
Keep coming.
It was only once the rainfall began to lighten that she
discontinued her fun and retreated into the hidden parts
of Madon s Keep so she wouldn t be seen, wouldn t
suddenly appear before a very surprised hunter. She
was soaked seemingly clear through, but she hardly
noticed. The excitement that came with practicing her
thrilling skills was always enough to warm her blood
and thaw away the cold. As the lingering mist frosted
her skin and chilled her bones, her blood sang.
The mist thickened into a drizzle again, but she had
already abandoned her victim too thoroughly to take up
the task again. Then the drizzle dissipated and thinned
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Spychild
anyway, continuing to strengthen and lessen [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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