this house too had an external stair. Without allowing himself time to think of
failure, Lalo launched himself upward.
The wooden structure swayed alarmingly. Lalo clutched at a railing and nearly
fell when it gave way beneath his hand. He could hear loud voices inside-a
window opened and then slammed shut as he was seen, and for a moment the
quarreling was stilled. Then he was on the roof, leaping over trays of drying
fruit and ducking under clotheslines. He saw the dark shape behind him and
jerked one end of the line free so that the hanging clothes clung damply to the
man who was following him.
Something flashed by his cheek in the moonlight like a line of white fire. Lalo
threw himself across the gap between two buildings, clutched at the ledge of a
parapet and lay across it, gasping, staring at the quivering blade that matched
the one he had seen in the throat of the slain guard. He hauled himself the rest
of the way into the dubious protection of the gable end.
Two Hell-Hounds trotted down the street below, paused momentarily at the corner
and gave a whistle which was answered from two streets away. Lalo wondered what
had happened to the mercenaries. Then a shadow rose from the opposite rooftop,
glimmering like silver as it came into the full light of the moon.
“Limner!” Zanderei called, “The soldiers will kill you if they catch you before
I do-give yourself up to me now!”
Lalo thought of the blade which he had wedged uncomfortably into his sash and
gritted his teeth. They call us Wrigglies, he remembered, Well, I had better do