I hit the ground before any of the glass, but as I roll forward to keep from cracking my ankles on impact the pieces I’ve clearly smashed loose start to rain down round me, although they’re less dangerous as they crack on the hard-packed dirt with the paper still pasted on. I hear more crashing nearby and through the corner of my eye see Yeslee land from her own dive through the other window and start running the moment she’s up, bow clutched ready at her side. I’m moving too, aiming myself on a slightly diagonal course away from her own. Hoping I’m on a smooth track to catch whoever’s trying to kill us.
The sound of more breaking glass behind me tugs a little at my attention, enough for me to chance a glimpse over my shoulder before I whip back to my path, so I barely catch Shay landing about where I did before. She seems to hit with something approaching my own ease, smart enough to roll too, and I trust her to follow my lead as I keep going. Then I catch sight of the opposite roof as I come out from under one of the tree canopies, and see movement up there, along with something whipping my way with a high whistling sound that grows louder very quickly. I recognise the arrow a split before I react.
Dodging sideways, I drop into a roll at the same moment, and the arrow thumps harmlessly into the lawn where I was a second’s fraction before. I’m running on all fours at first before I right myself, but stay low as I keep going, watching the shapes on the rooftop now. Three … no, four, at least, ducking and weaving as they’re ignoring me now, instead firing through the broken windows again. Not for long though. They can see me coming. Yeslee and Shay too. They ain’t gonna stick round for any of us to catch ‘em, no way they’re suddenly gonna get that stupid right after playing things so smart.
Then something much larger lumbers right past me and I realise it’s Big Man. He stops a little short of the building, right where I’m heading, and half turns my way. “I take it you require a means to climb, yes?”
There’s half a dozen ways I could get up there at a reasonable clip, but I like where his head’s at, this way I can keep my momentum up. “Nice one, Big Man!” I head right for him now, already plotting my way as he drops into a crouch.
As I arrive he holds his leading hand up high enough for me to jump up onto it and use it as a boost to spring onto his shoulder, and by then he’s already rising up again and I just keep going. I step up onto the top of his head, letting him reach his full height while I coil my legs up tight and then spring upwards just before he’s straightened up so I can use his momentum along with my own to fling myself as high as I can get. The eave’s too high for me to make it, but I’ve got the window below to work with, grabbing hold of the sill and scrambling onto it before looking up to gauge the best way from here.
Just in time to duck aside before an arrow aimed haphazard over the lip of the guttering takes me out, instead pinging off the rough stone of the sill and spinning off into the air. Fuckers … gritting my teeth, I tense low for a moment and then spring for the guttering, grabbing hold and hoping it’s sturdy enough to support me as I swing out into emptiness while working on pulling myself up.
There’s a heart-stopping moment when I feel the whole thing shift, but it doesn’t give out and I pull up at the same time I swing my leading leg over the top. I’m already taking in my new surroundings as I pull myself the rest of the way up, and the second I have a free hand to work with I draw my first knife. I have a breadth of moments to work with here.
First thing I see is some of ‘em already booking it over the ridge of the sloping shingled rooftop above, but there are four standing their ground. The two closest have already forsaken their bows, short but wickedly accurate over this relatively limited range, for the weapons on their belts, while the others ain’t shooting me now mainly cuz they can’t risk hitting their own. They’re all black-clad, head to foot, largely nondescript wool, leather and linen, and very little armour from the look of it, like they weren’t actually expecting trouble. Cloaked and hooded, and each one’s masked. Three just have thick black scarves tied over their lower faces, but one wears a carved wooden piece over his eyes, nose and cheeks, fashioned like some strange grey owl. He’s drawing a shortsword and handaxe but hanging back, letting his companions take the lead.
I slip my corresponding knife free in my other hand and step off the guttering, taking up as well as I can on the relatively firm ground of shale, the slope shallow enough I can get decent footing. I keep low and tight and wait for one of them to make a move, smiling a bit now in anticipation of the fight. It seems to have the desired effect, the one closing on me with shortsword and dagger frowning as he re-evaluates his current plan.
When I throw my right-hand knife he ain’t even remotely prepared so it catches him high in the left side of his chest and he folds as the breath leaks out of him, dying in little more than a blink after I caught him square in the heart. I pull at the same moment he starts to tumble and the knife seems to jerk him into a slightly different path as it tears itself free and whips back to my hand, so his body just tumbles right out into the open air off the edge instead of hitting the roof first. I catch the knife on its return almost without even looking and positively grin at the guy in the owl mask, who’s actually trying his best to back up now, clearly startled by my fancy enchanted blades.
Shay jumps the first one with the bow while they’re still distracted and doesn’t even try to do anything fancy, she just braces her feet and flings ‘em bodily off the roof. The higher pitched scream that follows tells me that one was a woman, then the other turns to the new threat as Shay draws her sword and cuts his arm off at the elbow before he can even toss his bow aside to draw a better weapon for close quarters.
“Fuck this.” Owl Mask mutters under his breath as he sheathes his sword and tosses his axe away while turning to scramble up the roof after the others. Just in time for Yeslee’s arrow to catch him in his shoulder and rip him right off his feet. He sails a good six feet and I shout at Shay to watch out as he flies right at her. She dodges just in time, and instead the screaming man in the fancy mask hits the one with the severed arm and smashes him right over the edge along with him.
“No time for that shit!” Yeslee growls at us, but when I look to her again she’s already up on the ridge, sliding over as I watch. I cast a look to Shay, who gives her sword a good whip to shake loose the few spots of blood on the crystal blade free and sheathes it again before shrugging and starting to climb herself.
Shaking the blood from my own knife, give it a careful whip once on each side across my thigh to get rid of the rest and snap both blades back into their scabbards so I have my paws free. I start up after Yeslees, moving fast and easy over the shingles now I’m very comfortably engaged on my favourite kind of terrain.
As I crest the roof Yeslee’s already sliding down the other side, firing off arrows as she goes, and two hit home, each fleeing figure getting turned over in mid-air before taking a tumble straight into the street below. Others bounce just wide of marks who are clearly just lucky as they dodge erratically, fate seeming to smile on one simply by making them stumble at just the right moment so they slip and fall while the arrow bounces off an inch from their head. They scrabble to hold on, just catching the gutter at the last, and hang as they try to right themselves.
Others are making for any cover they can find, while one at least is just booking it fast as they can, leaping right across one of the narrow gaps between roofs to the next building over as they desperately try to escape. Yeslee simply plants her feet just above the guttering and takes her time, leading her target, and I know she’s taking a deep breath and holding it ready before she looses. The arrow catches them high between their shoulder-blades and they just plunge face-first into the next alleyway, limp as a ragdoll.
“Yes, chill!” I growl as I skid down behind her. “We gotta take one alive, or we might as well just let ‘em all go.”
I don’t bother to wait to see if I got through to her as she draws her next arrow, but instead I keep running along the bottom of the shingles and then just step off onto the guttering. Whether it’s strong enough to support me or not doesn’t matter, I just use it as the jumping point to spring to the next roof across, and I’m just about light and quick enough that while it seems to snap and give under me I’m already in the air before it breaks away. I’ve landed and started running low along the base of the next roof when I hear the broken piece of rusty iron crash down below, then the alleyway comes up and I make the leap. It’s not a wide one, I clear it easy and don’t even break stride.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
This time I go for one of my dart belts and slip a pair free of their loops as I start to make the sloping run up the angle around the approaching chimney, and the bowman hiding behind it doesn’t realise I’m there until I’m right on top of him. He draws the arrow he’s been nocking and tries to draw a bead on me but by then I’ve already slipped the first dart with the fingers in my other hand to whip. It catches his drawing arm just behind the wrist mid-pull and he loses his grip as it punches clean through the leather of his bracer and the arrow pings off the guttering to spin away into the open below.
Snarling a pained, fearful oath, he chucks his bow aside and tries to fumble for his shortsword with his one remaining good hand, but it’s on the wrong side. He tries to pull it underhand but I’m already on top of him before he’s drawn six inches of steel, and I drop low, skidding at the last to scissor his feet out from under him with a sweep of my legs. He drops in a tangled mess and I don’t even bother whipping the other dart, instead flipping it round in my hand and just jamming it hard into the side of one knee as he hits the roof beside me. This time he lets out a winded howl that I cut short as I smack my elbow hard into his face with a crack as I break his jaw. He slumps limp against the shingles and I extricate my legs from his.
An arrow pings against the chimney beside my head as I rise and I drop into a crouch again, drawing one of my new daggers again and ducking back round the side as I chance a quick glimpse out into the open. Two of ‘em seem to have remained to cover the escape of the rest, hiding behind their own cover, one selecting another chimney like this one and the other the overhang of a roof-entrance, only whipping out long enough to draw beads on their targets and loose. Another shot whips my way and I duck back just in time to avoid the strike, so the arrow skitters across the shingles to my side before lodging in one of the braces holding the guttering in place.
One of Yeslee’s black arrows slams into the chimney the other one’s hiding behind and they cringe away from it, startled since the tip must erupt right out the other side in a cloud of dust and splintered brick. Thinking twice about throwing my knife at this range, I instead yank another dart loose and flick it fast before the startled hood’s able to hide again, catching them high in their shoulder as they pull back in. They stumble with a startled yelp and land flat on their back, then start to skid … shit, right over the edge. The pitch of their scream’s high enough to suggest a girl’s plunging into the street below.
“What were you saying about watching my shooting, Art?” Yeslee calls out, and I don’t have to see her face to measure her sarcasm right now.
Gritting my teeth, I glare back over my shoulder but hold my tongue, instead waving my hand to point out the remaining archer’s hiding place, then signal for her to cover me. I don’t bother checking whether she’s even looking to check if she caught my meaning, I just slip my offhand dagger free and crouch low, preparing to run.
She caught my meaning all right. As if on cue the remaining one takes a peak out to draw another bead, then Yeslee’s arrow whips past their cheek so close it likely rips a little gouge in their face and pins their hood for good measure. They pull back on reflex, startled enough to fall on their arse while their hood tears free, and I start running.
Picking up speed as I go, I wind up the slope of the roof enough to build the momentum I need before curving back down to get a little extra speed, then make the jump as Yeslee looses two more arrows to punch into the arch of the entrance. No need to worry she might hit me by mistake, she’s too good for that, even though one whips close enough as I leap for me to feel the wind of it. I land and don’t even worry about securing firm enough ground, keeping my momentum up as run diagonal up the side of the roof again, curving round the brick hump of the arch before pulling back down round the far side.
Two more arrows crack into the brickwork and I’m close enough I hear an masculine oath of sheer frustration as our target must be staying as far back from the steady barrage as he can. I drop at the last and skid down the remaining slope just inside the side of the hump, then as my feet touch the guttering I’m already tensing all I can into my thighs to coil for the spring. The aged iron creaks and he’d be an idiot not to catch it, but I’m already jumping as he turns my way, and while he tosses his bow to go for his shortsword I’m already on him.
He's a little taller than me, but built so wiry thin he ain’t no heavier, so it’d be an even match even if I didn’t have the advantage of surprise. I slash low and quick, catching his sword-arm across the back of the wrist and cutting deep, then I slam into him and drive him back into the low curving inside wall. He grunts as I drive the wind out of him, then follow up with a hard knee to his gut while he’s still trying to rise, and whatever fight might be left in him wheezes out as he crumbles onto the floor of the platform. I press him into the wall and bring my offhand knife up fast, putting the edge to his throat and pressing just hard enough to make my point as I growl: “That’ll do.”
The last of his fight goes away in an instant. I sheathe my right-hand dagger so I can reach up and yank his cloth mask down, and when I see his face I realise he’s even younger than I am. Human, fresh-faced enough his current attempt to grow a beard’s only succeeded in producing a fine shadowed down around his mouth. He’s attractive in a broad sort of way, but even if he wasn’t my enemy he’s not really my type. His light brown eyes are wide as they focus on mine, nibbling his lip in obvious fear. “Please, I can’t –”
“Stow it, we got some questions to ask, an’ trust me, you’re gonna answer ‘em.”
Yeslee scrambles round to perch on the low rail separating the platform from the drop, holding onto the overhang even though she doesn’t actually need it to steady herself, and her hard stare instantly fastens onto him. He opens his mouth like he’s gonna protest, but instead all that comes out is a rasping sound, and his eyes widen in something more like shock. Fuck … he’s starting to choke.
I pull my knife away as he slumps, his good hand going to his throat as he sprawls on the floor and starts to convulse, and as I watch, too surprised to do anything, he starts coughing up blood. What the hell … something seems to be happening to his neck, to the lower half of his face, it’s almost like it’s swelling. Something like the bloat when a body comes up out the harbour after a week or two in water, but it’s all red, like it’s enflamed. His writhing grows more desperate as he gasps and retches, and now blood’s pouring out of his mouth, from his nostrils, even a little from his eyes.
Without thinking about it I step back, pressing myself into the opposite wall as I try to just get away from whatever the hell this is. He squirms and thrashes for a few more moments, then his back arches one last time, rigid suddenly, as a last, rattling rasp croaks out of him, then he just goes limp. A long silence follows as I take it in, unable to process what the fuck just happened.
“Art?” It’s her tone that snaps me out of the trance more than anything else. Don’t reckon I ever heard actual shock in Yeslee’s voice before. When I turn to her she genuinely looks … gods, I think she might be scared. “Art … what the fuck did you just do?”
“Gods, Yes … c’mon, that wasn’t me. We wanted this guy alive, remember?”
“Well something tells me we both fucked that one up.” She can’t take her eyes off the corpse that, when I look back at it, seems to be bloating even after death. “What … what do we do?”
“Oh … wait …” Remembering the one I knocked out, I sheathe my remaining knife and step back out past her, jumping to the edge of the roof beyond so I can look back the way we’ve both come. I see Shay now, stood over the form of the one I stunned by the chimney, looking down at ‘em with sword still in hand but hanging loose at her side. Something about the way she’s staring with such wide-eyed incomprehension … damn it. That ain’t good.
“No.” I barely breathe it as I start running, building up some fresh momentum to carry me back across, and I don’t even slow down on the landing as I sprint the rest of the way to Shay. I barely even slow before I arrive, instead just bracing myself against the chimney as I skid into it. One glance at Shay as her very fearful eyes flicker towards me tells me everything I need to know.
“Shit.”
Truth be told I know it soon as I take in the body, cuz I sure didn’t leave him lying in this position, contorted and curled in on himself like he’s been thrashing about in pain before he died. I don’t want to, but I gotta make sure, so I move round a little and crouch down so I can pull the hood back and then yank down the mask. Human like the other one, but I can’t tell if he was young cuz the swelling already seems pretty advanced. Gods …
“He just … he just … what the hell was that?” Shay half mutters, half spits the words, seeming as angry as she is shocked now. “I‘ve never seen anything like it. I didn’t even touch them, it started while I was still on my way.”
Turning back, I see Yeslee’s making her way back to us, but slower now, taking her time and clearly being careful about where she’s stepping. Unusually timid indeed right now. Damn, she’s really rattled, looks like.
“We gotta get back to the others.” I flex my fingers, restless now. Wary. I look at the rooftops surrounding us, seeing nothing but unsure what that even means right now. “Whatever that was, it was fucked. We gotta get outta here while we still can.”