The Alabaster Staff by Edward Bolme Read Free Book Online

skills, but, you see, magic is not the best tool for slipping into a manse.” She waggled her fingers, sending the blue strands of energy spiraling around. “Little lights, little flashes, little noises of spells or incantations, they all attract attention, and good merchants have wards and other traps to snare those who try to magic their way into a valuable area. No, far better to go tippy-toe like a little mouse, all small and quiet and twitchy whiskers. And that, hon, is something I wager you’re darned good at. So confident, in fact, that I’m choosing you for the task.”
    Since the sorceress had shown spells—wall-walking and a little telekinesis—Kehrsyn was growing bolder. Not only was the woman staying out of easy reach, but Kehrsyn knew that the spells she’d used were little more than minor cantrips. She’d seen magic—real magic—several times in her life, and the sorceress’s offerings were a far cry from those spells. She believed she could parry or dodge whatever telekinetic assault the woman might launch with her dagger, and the studded leather vest Kehrsyn wore beneath her blouse offered her vitals some protection.
    She paused as if considering, and studied the woman some more, letting time pass. The sorceress was clearly suffering from some kind of contagious catarrh or grippe. Kehrsyn sucked in her lips and nodded, as if she was indeed deciding to go along with the woman’s demands.
    She waited until the sorceress cleared her throat again—Kehrsyn well knew how the grippe sapped people’s willpower—and coughed to see how suggestible the woman might be.
    Very, as it turned out.
    No sooner had Kehrsyn cleared her throat than the woman stretched her neck and tried to clear hers. Kehrsyn put the pear to her mouth as if to take a bite and forced a sudden cough around the fruit. That brought a coughing fit upon the unhealthy woman as well. Kehrsyn watched for just a moment while the rasping cough gathered momentum, and just as the woman’s eyes started to close with the force of her hacking, Kehrsyn made her move. Pear held in her teeth, Kehrsyn leaped forward, jumped up the wall with one boot clawing for just a bit of traction and stability, and neatly flicked her rapier at the woman’s hand. The tip of her rapier caught her dagger just below the hilt and spun it out of the sorceress’s helpless fingers. Deftly Kehrsyn caught the dagger by the handle as she landed on the uneven alleyway ground.
    “You w—
cough!
” spluttered the woman, pointing with her newly emptied hand while the other futilely clawed at her collar.
    Kehrsyn sheathed her rapier and took the pear from her teeth.
    “The only protection I need,” said Kehrsyn, “is for you to cover your mouth, so I don’t catch my death.”
    She slung the blood from her dagger, sheathed it, and withdrew.
    Kehrsyn hazarded one last glance over her shoulder before she turned a corner in the alleyway to leave the sight of the coughing woman. She caught a glimpse of the woman making mystical passes with her hand once more. Blue motes sparkled around her fingers, and something small and shiny zipped through the air to the woman’s hand. Kehrsyn had just an instant to wonder what it might be.
    The woman moved her hand to her mouth, and a high-pitched two-tone whistle filled the alley. Kehrsyn recognized it instantly: a constabulary whistle. One long, shrill blow was the signal for riot or assault upon a guard.
    The response was immediate. Like feral dogs echoing the baying of the pack, other whistles began calling in the surrounding streets. Kehrsyn staggered, frozen by the abrupt flare of mortal fear, the return of the all-too-familiar feeling of being human prey.
    The sorceress fixed Kehrsyn with a look of disgust as she slung the whistle back at the guard’s corpse.
    “Guess we’ll see how good you really are now, won’t we, hon?” she called out. Then, at the top of her lungs, she screamed and yelled, “
Thief!
She killed