some quick wriggling now? Cautiously he squirmed across the tiles. A quiver
beneath him told him that Zanderei had also crossed the gap, and he scrambled
for the opposite stair.
But there was none. Unable to stop, Lalo leaped to the balcony in a crash of
breaking crockery, and swung himself from the railing to the street below. The
upper way would not save him, but as he had lain gasping he had remembered an
alternative, darker and more dangerous both to the pursuer and the pursued.
Shards of terra cotta smashed and rattled in the street behind him as the owner
of the balcony glimpsed Zanderei and pelted him with his broken wares. Lalo sped
down the street and past a group wavering along from the direction of the Vulgar
Unicorn.
I wanted to be a hero-he thought, forcing his legs to more speed, but how do you
tell the difference between a dead hero and a dead fool? The singing behind him
faltered and someone screamed. Zanderei-for a moment Lalo saw the assassin
clearly in the moonlight-he had shed his grey silk and his shirt was torn-he
looked as if he had been bred to the streets of Sanctuary. And as if he had felt
Lalo’s gaze, he turned, and his teeth flashed in a brief smile.
Lalo took a deep breath and stared around him-he dared not move too quickly now
lest he miss the spot, though every sense was clamoring to him to flee. There,
at the end of the alley-a wooden cover that capped a circle of crumbling stones.
Lalo pulled it free-the covers were usually left unbolted in hopes that people
would throw refuse directly in-then, gritting his teeth, he lowered himself down