Foundryside (The Founders Trilogy #1) - Robert Jackson Bennett Page 0,36

Sark doesn’t walk around with any scrived armaments—so that’s not him up there. They tried to clean up, to put everything just as he’d left it so I wouldn’t get spooked and bolt—though they weren’t stupid enough to leave me down here with loaded weapons. They’re upstairs, waiting for me.>

She looked around. I need a weapon, she thought. Or a distraction. Anything. But one stiletto and three espringals with no ammunition didn’t get her very far.

Then she had an idea. Grimacing—for she no longer had any idea how much she’d have to use her talents tonight—she touched her bare hands to the wooden beam above her.

Saltwater, rot, termites, and dust…but then she found it: the crackling old bones of the beams were shot through with iron spikes in a few places…and several of them were quite loose.

She quietly paced over to one loose nail, took out her stiletto, and waited for the breeze to rise. When it did, and the creaking and groaning of the old building rose with it, she gently pried the nail out of the soft wood.

She held it in her hands, letting it spill into her thoughts, iron and rust and slow corruption. It was big, about four or five inches long, and about a pound in weight.

Not aerodynamic, she thought. But it wouldn’t need to be, over short distances.

She pocketed it, then pried out two more nails and carefully, carefully placed them in the pockets of the two espringals pointed at the stairwell door.

Maybe this will kill, she thought. Or disable. Or something. I just need to slow them down.

Again, she looked at the street outside. Still no movement. But that didn’t necessarily mean much. These people were prepared.

she asked.

asked Sancia.

said Clef.

Sancia listened to this closely.

said Sancia.

She took her espringal and huddled at the window at the back, but did not exit yet.

said Clef.

She did some quick thinking. She knew there was a window just above this one.

She’d reviewed her weapon. The espringal was a clunky, powerful weapon, one of the old models you had to crank four or five times. And a big, rusty iron nail was not the best ammunition to use. She’d have to be close.

said Clef.

She slipped the iron nail in her espringal’s pocket.

said Clef.

She did her best to convince herself she was going to do what she needed to do.

It felt insane. She was no soldier, and she knew it. But she knew there were no other options.

Don’t miss, she thought.

Then she leapt out, raised the espringal at the window above her, and fired.

* * *

The espringal kicked far harder than she thought it would, and it responded so fast. She thought