Fanfare

Market Tricks

Pierce looks down at the girl collapsed on the ground in front of him, her small body blocking the entrance to the tunnel. He crouches beside her. "Trenna?" Nothing. "Trenna?" He shakes her shoulder gently, then not so gently. She doesn't even stir. 

A trace of panic entering him, he slips an arm beneath her body and pulls her roughly onto his lap, dropping his dagger and pressing the fingers of his free hand to her neck, beneath her jaw. Her pulse flutters against his fingertips, and he lets out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

"Trenna?" He tries once more, giving her one more shake. She doesn't move. He leans down to check that she's actually breathing, that he wasn't hallucinating; her breath is warm and shallow against his cheek.

He frowns and looks at her closely. She is peaceful in sleep, the silent anger on her face gone. She looks much younger. She reminds him of all things innocent, of a childhood he left behind. He releases his grip on her shoulder to lift her fully into his arms as he stands, but pauses; on her jacket, where his hand had been, is a white smear of powder. He swears through his teeth, but is not worried. He knows what has happened. He is only grateful that he was there so that the market couldn't get to her before he did.

He sighs as he stands, her small body cradled against his chest. Now he'll have to walk, to watch his back rather than take the safe option of the tunnels. He frowns down at his dagger on the ground; immediately, it disappears and appears in the sheath in his sleeve. He considers attempting the same to get back to the compound, but he's never done this, used his magic with a passenger, and he doesn't much like the idea of trying and dropping her on the ground. He sighs once more and shifts Trenna into a more comfortable position, so that her arm isn't twisted awkwardly beneath her. Then he starts to walk, his keen eyes and ears trained on the darkness around him.