she landed snug in a windowsill of the second floor, arms outstretched to grab the edges, toes barely finding purchase between the edge and the old wooden boards. The entire ledge groaned, and she could feel it starting to shift beneath her.
The soldiers, of course, had turned their focus back toward her, but as of yet, between the distraction Olgun had arranged and the utter impossibility of what they'd just witnessed, none of them had managed to target her.
“If that bothered them…” she whispered. “You ready?”
Rather than provide a stationary target for even a heartbeat longer, she jumped without waiting for Olgun's reply.
Not up for the third (and uppermost) story; not back to earth; not even for the ramshackle house across the street. No, Widdershins launched herself sideways, paralleling the wall to which she'd just clung. Propelled by her own acrobatic skill and a helping of divine might, she would easily clear the building's corner, leaving her with nothing to grab onto, nowhere but the open street to land.
Except she and Olgun had other ideas.
Just as she started to clear the wall, she slapped both hands against the corner. It was an impossible grab, should have been nothing more than her futilely smacking the wall as she hurtled past. Using a variant of the same trick he'd used many times to give her an invisible leg up, Olgun braced her fingers against the stone, just enough so that—flat and straight as they were—they managed to find purchase.
A hard yank, also augmented by her guardian deity, and Shins flipped around the corner, heels over head—a somersault turned on its ear, performed sideways in apparent defiance of gravity and momentum both.
Even Olgun couldn't defy said forces for more than an instant, though. The trick had yanked Shins out of the guards’ sights (and line of fire) far faster than they could have anticipated, but not even she could regain a hold on the wall after that. Teeth gritted, she braced herself, twisting so that at least she landed on her feet when she struck the roadway. Ignoring the protests in her knees and the burning ache in both arms, she took off at a dead run. A quick left, as soon as she'd cleared the dilapidated structure, and then another after that, found her standing directly behind the spot the guards had been gathered only a moment before.
They, of course, having given chase, were now on the other side of the building, wondering where their quarry could have disappeared to.
Wondering what else could possibly go wrong, and why everyone seemed to have it out for her—even more than usual—Widdershins disappeared down the nearest side street, casually but carefully making her way toward the busier parts of town.
She needed time to think. Needed to know what in the name of Banin's belt was happening in this madhouse of a city. Needed a chance to rest, and to talk to a friendly face.
And with everything else going on, that could only mean one place.
Even the Flippant Witch had changed.
Not from the outside, no. It remained the same old structure, battered and worn but determined to keep on keeping on. Light glowed between the slats of the window shutters, smoke dribbled from the chimneys, and the muted hum of conversation reached her even from across the way.
Initially, it seemed as though things were far better than when she'd left. Even if she hadn't seen the constant comings and goings through the tavern's front door, it was quite apparent that the place was far more crowded, doing far better business than she'd seen in the months prior to her departure. In a Davillon that had apparently lost what remained of its mind, Shins was delighted to see that Robin had, to all appearances, turned the place completely around.
That notion, and the resulting grin, both lasted just about as long as it took her to mount the steps and enter the common room itself.
It was packed; it was busy. But not at all in the way she remembered from the good old days. The scents of various libations, though always strong, now utterly choked out everything else, including the aromas she should have smelled from the kitchen. People were drinking more and eating less, and had been for some time. The place was uncomfortably warm, despite the chill air outside, and there was a sourness to the stench of sweat that Shins's recollections did not include. Even the conversation was wrong. Loud and boisterous as always, yes,