Night's Cold Embrace

Chapter 10

The sombre evening draped soft shadows on the rough edges of ruin and havoc. Rain beat in flurries about the city, only to disappear as the delicate droplets touched the scorching flames of the ever ongoing fires.

Garrett glided through the dark refuge the rooftops provided. Only elevation separated this serene, unperturbed world from the raging one below. The two would have been completely separate if not for the corpses that were strung up from the railings and left to dangle obscenely, thumping softly against the wood.

The crates that had normally allowed for a means of descending the balcony were gone, instead stacked under the railings to be used to hang more corpses. Garrett turned around and crouched with his hands planted firmly on either side of his feet, then pushed up and jumped backwards. He quickly gripped the edge of the platform as he let his body fall over the edge. At a safe distance from the ground now, he let himself drop onto the cobblestone road.

The fall wasn't crippling, but he still felt a sharp tingling pain in his ankles. Quickly recovering himself, Garrett opened the wooden gates behind The Crippled Burrick. It didn't appear as though the crowds had touched the place, but he supposed that that made sense; the only people who ever set foot there were those who didn't have two coins to rub together.

Garrett walked to Basso's window, glad to see the flickering candlelight seeping out into the dark alley. He was about to jump through the opening when he heard approaching footsteps. He turned his head to glance at the man exiting the door. A worn black hat was tipped down to cover most of his face and a beige overcoat wrapped around his torso. Both his clothing and hastiness gave him the impression of someone who didn't wish to be noticed or stopped.

The man turned a corner, vanishing as quickly as he had appeared. Garrett narrowed his eyes at the strange sight, but dismissed it. Basso did, after all, deal in a shady business. Strange, secretive men were commonplace in this area.

Basso was busying himself with a coin purse in front of his desk when Garrett entered, mumbling faintly to the magpie burying its beak into its wings as he counted the coins.

"Who was your friend?" Garrett asked as he propped himself gently against a pillar of decaying wood.

"Geez, Garrett! Nearly made my heart stop," Basso exclaimed as he turned around to face the man lurking in the shadows.

"And if you need to know, that was the rather generous client who wanted the scripture. Speaking of, here's your cut." Basso fished out a handful of golden coins from the velvet pouch in his hand. He counted them briefly before handing them over.

Garrett accepted them with an appreciative nod and pocketed his payment. "I'm guessing you haven't been on any evening strolls lately."

"What, you mean with the uproar in the streets? Nah." He turned around and waved his hands dismissively in the air. "And you know what? Fuck them. Serves those pompous sons of bitches right."

Garrett smirked as Basso turned his back to him; he was glad to see him well and unharmed. Exhausted, he righted himself and made to leave the dank room. The thought of finally sleeping after what felt like days was barely enough to urge his tired limbs to move. With a twinge of annoyance, he remembered that he would have to make do without a bed.

"Oh, okay. Just leave without another word," came a half-serious offended remark. "It's not like I wanted to have a decent conversation or anything."

"I always thought that was what Jenivere was for," Garrett quipped before hopping through the window. The shadow of a smile flickered across his face as he heard Basso's amused chuckle behind him.