Kestrel LeStarre stared at Ivy
Animosity for a moment, as she climbed out of the window and into a
conveniently placed tree. Ivy looked back at her, waiting for her to follow,
and Kestrel shook herself. She sheathed her sword, which she had lowered to her
side, and walked over to the window that Ivy had climbed out of, boots making
muffled clacking noises on the wooden floors.
Ivy
had already begun to climb, and Kestrel leaned out of the window, rain stinging
her face, wind tossing her black hair into her eyes. Ivy reached the bottom,
and looked up at her impatiently, gesturing as if to ask what was taking so
long. Kestrel rolled her eyes and brushed her hair away from her eyes, and then
reached out and grabbed the nearest branch.
It
was fairly thick, thankfully, so Kestrel swung her legs over the windowsill and
pushed off with her legs, swinging towards the trunk. She caught it with her
legs, and released one arm to grab onto it. Her feet found a short branch for
her to balance on, and she slowly began descending.
A
couple of minutes later, her feet touched the ground. She was facing the tree,
not Ivy, but she knew that Ivy was smirking.
“Shut
up, Ivy.”
“I
didn’t say anything.”
“Yes,
but you thought it.”
“I’m
the mind reader, not you. And right now you’re thinking ‘Wow, I’m really out of shape, I should practise more’, aren’t you?”
Kestrel
had to admit that that was pretty much exactly what she had been thinking.
Another, seemingly unconnected thought, drifted across her mind.
“Hey,”
Ivy said, “I am not a trial!”
Kestrel
turned to face her, and raised an eyebrow. Ivy raised a knife. Kestrel lifted
her hands in mock surrender, and Ivy grinned and replaced the knife in its
sheathe. Kestrel stepped away from the tree, and Ivy moved off to the side to give
her room. They stood there, in the dark, in the rain, both absorbed in their
own thoughts for a couple seconds before Kestrel remembered that they had more
important things to be doing.
“So,
Ivy,” she said, “have you spoken to Thrust more recently than I have?”
Ivy
turned once again to face her. “Probably not. The last time I saw him was at
that weird party he had for no apparent reason. You remember?”
Kestrel
shook her head. “Not particularly. I remember that I wasn’t able to make it,
though. D’you have any clue where he is?”
“Nope.”
“Any
clue where his house was?
Ivy
didn’t say anything, but she held out her hand, which Kestrel took to mean yes.
Kestrel took Ivy’s hand in hers, and her hand began to glow with a deep indigo
light. Soon both of them were consumed by it, and disappeared. The same car
that had passed Kestrel earlier, whizzed by once more, and the driver caught a
flash of the light as they disappeared.
With a flash of indigo light they
materialized in front of a ramshackle, run-down house that resided in a dark
lane of ramshackle run-down houses. Kestrel stumbled forward a bit when she
released her grip from Ivy’s hand, and she could feel Ivy’s smirk. The house
was one story, and its windows were halfway open, with the door hanging off its
hinges.
Kestrel
stepped forward, and Ivy followed her. They were both acutely aware of the
silence. Kestrel’s footsteps slowed, while Ivy’s quickened, and soon they were
walking side by side as they crossed the street, muffled thumping from their
boots making the only sound on the cobbled street.
They
reached the door, Ivy now slightly ahead, and Ivy gently pushed it open. It
gave a creak that seemed deafening in the eerily silent night, and Ivy walked
in not even bothering to look back. Kestrel followed more slowly, noticing as
she did the spots on the door that were noticeably darker, as if they had been
splattered with liquid. She groaned.
“Here
we go again,” she muttered as she stepped inside, closing the door behind her.