Foundryside (The Founders Trilogy #1) - Robert Jackson Bennett Page 0,111

down to the next floor.>

There was a pause.

She smiled.

* * *

Berenice huddled in a doorway beyond the foundry walls, squinting at the windows through a spyglass. She found it hard to focus. Despite her occasional dabbling in campo intrigue, she was not at all accustomed to such high-stakes trickery. She certainly hadn’t expected anyone to climb any buildings tonight, let alone break into a damned foundry.

Still, it seemed Sancia was right: something was going on, there on the third floor. She could make out a handful of people inside—but they seemed to be slowly gravitating toward the administrative offices.

That’s less than optimal, she thought. How will Sancia manage to get i—

She stopped.

Was that a window opening? There on the dark fourth floor?

She watched, openmouthed, as a small figure in black slipped out of the fourth-floor window and clung to the corner of the building.

“Ohhh my God,” said Berenice.

* * *

Sancia hung tight to the corner of the foundry, her fingers digging into the narrow gaps in the stones. She’d held on to trickier places in her time—but not many.

She slipped down inch by inch to the next floor. She found a dark window, which meant no one would be inside, hopefully. She wedged her boots into the stone, then reached out with her stiletto and inserted its tip into the gap at the top of the closed window. She gently pushed the handle of the blade until the window started opening. Once she’d gotten it open a crack, she pulled back until it was wide open. Then she climbed up and lowered herself down into the gap.

Clef said,

She was hanging by the inside lip of the window—she suddenly felt grateful about them being unbreakable—and she lowered herself until she stood on a desk.

She slipped off the desk and got her bearings. This seemed to be a large, empty meeting room, one that hadn’t been used in some time. She walked over to the door opposite the window and squinted through the keyhole. There was some kind of a wide, open area beyond, with four armored Candiano guards standing around, looking bored and tired.

“Whoof,” she said quietly. She stepped back and looked around. There were two other doors on the left and right, presumably leading to adjoining offices.

She walked over to the door on the right and tried the handle. It was unlocked. She silently opened it and looked in. Another office, empty and dark.

She closed it and went to the final door. Yet as she approached…

She stopped. she said.

said Clef.

Sancia got close to the door, knelt, and pressed a hand to the floor. She let the floor pour into her mind—a difficult thing, since there were so many scrivings wearing her stamina thin. Yet soon she felt it…

A bare foot. Just one, the ball of the foot pressed into the floor. And it was pumping, up and down.

said Clef.

Sancia peered through the keyhole. This office was somewhat grand. There were scrived lanterns inside, a long desk covered with old, wrinkled papers, and a set of wooden boxes. There was also a bed in the far corner, and there were two people on the bed, a man and a woman—and they were quite naked and obviously coupling, the man keeping one foot on the floor and his other knee on the bed.

Due to her condition, Sancia did not know a great deal about sex, but she got the impression that this was not particularly good sex. The woman was quite young, about her own age, and terribly pretty, and though her face was fixed in an expression of pleasure there was something anxious and artificial about it, like she was dreading the displeasure of the man more than she was enjoying the experience. And though the man had his back turned to her—his skinny, pale back—there was a mechanical and determined quality to his thrusting,