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The Magehound :: Каннингем Элейн
Страница: 75 из 216When the magical inquiry was done, it would be discovered that he knew beyond doubt at the time of inquisition that the sword was stolen.
"I an undone," he muttered, slumping lower against the wall.
"Then get off the floor and do yourself back up," she said tartly. "I'll get you out of this. Trust me."
He sent her a quick incredulous glance. "Need I remind you that it was you who got me into this?"
She shrugged away his words with the same impatient unconcern that she might have in dismissing a comment about the political situation in distant Cormyr. The expression on her face clearly proclaimed, What has one thing to do with another?
Tzigone cast her eyes toward the ceiling. Then, with the air of someone who has better things to do than engage in meaningless chat, she dropped out of sight. Metallic whispers gave witness to picks and knives being employed on the lock.
Matteo walked over to the door. "I will not go with you," he said with calm finality. "If you open the door, I will pull you inside and shut it behind you."
Tzigone's face popped back into view, and she regarded him with an insouciant grin. "What woman could resist so poetic a ploy? Look at me! I'm swooning!"
"I didn't mean-"
She cut him off with a jab to the forehead with the blunt end of her pick. "How stupid do I look? I know what you meant Now be quiet and let me work."
Again she disappeared. Matteo heard the distant tread of footsteps. "Someone's coming. Go now before you're forced to join me here."
This logic finally struck a chord. The woman rose and sent a quick look over her shoulder, then leaped for the iron bracket set high on the wall. She pulled herself up onto the torch's shelf and nimbly rose to her feet. From there she reached the lowest edge of the rafter and swung herself up onto it. Swiftly she walked across the broad beam. The only sign of her passing was a silvery sprinkle of dust and the appearance of a couple of indignant spiders, disturbed from their perches and swinging like pendulums from gossamer threads.
Matteo breathed a gusty sigh of relief. Though Tzigone's understanding of life was vastly different than his, he was moved by the fact that she would try to rescue him. All the same, he was glad that she was safely out of it.
He had just settled back down on the floor when the lock began to clatter in earnest. He surged to his feet as the door swung in, ready to unleash a blistering tirade at the persistent girl.
"I an undone," he muttered, slumping lower against the wall.
"Then get off the floor and do yourself back up," she said tartly. "I'll get you out of this. Trust me."
He sent her a quick incredulous glance. "Need I remind you that it was you who got me into this?"
She shrugged away his words with the same impatient unconcern that she might have in dismissing a comment about the political situation in distant Cormyr. The expression on her face clearly proclaimed, What has one thing to do with another?
Tzigone cast her eyes toward the ceiling. Then, with the air of someone who has better things to do than engage in meaningless chat, she dropped out of sight. Metallic whispers gave witness to picks and knives being employed on the lock.
Matteo walked over to the door. "I will not go with you," he said with calm finality. "If you open the door, I will pull you inside and shut it behind you."
Tzigone's face popped back into view, and she regarded him with an insouciant grin. "What woman could resist so poetic a ploy? Look at me! I'm swooning!"
"I didn't mean-"
She cut him off with a jab to the forehead with the blunt end of her pick. "How stupid do I look? I know what you meant Now be quiet and let me work."
Again she disappeared. Matteo heard the distant tread of footsteps. "Someone's coming. Go now before you're forced to join me here."
This logic finally struck a chord. The woman rose and sent a quick look over her shoulder, then leaped for the iron bracket set high on the wall. She pulled herself up onto the torch's shelf and nimbly rose to her feet. From there she reached the lowest edge of the rafter and swung herself up onto it. Swiftly she walked across the broad beam. The only sign of her passing was a silvery sprinkle of dust and the appearance of a couple of indignant spiders, disturbed from their perches and swinging like pendulums from gossamer threads.
Matteo breathed a gusty sigh of relief. Though Tzigone's understanding of life was vastly different than his, he was moved by the fact that she would try to rescue him. All the same, he was glad that she was safely out of it.
He had just settled back down on the floor when the lock began to clatter in earnest. He surged to his feet as the door swung in, ready to unleash a blistering tirade at the persistent girl.