Drip, drip, drip, drip... The steady leaking of water kept time to her beating heart. Sinking back into the shadows, she tried in vain to calm it. The old storage room that had been her longest home (one and a half weeks) allowed its occupants exceptional hearing of the outside world. Drunken city guards clomping down the street, calling to any girl foolish enough to be out walking. Nothing sounded unusual ... but wait! There was a small sucking noise, and then a pattering of feet.
Suddenly the door was flung open, and in walked a man in a billowing black cloak beneath which he wore the garb of the Night Garrison. His eyes flashed out like lightning under a pile of dark, matted hair and a short rapier was strapped to his side. He did a quick sweep of the room, as if confirming the location, and then listened intently. The girl breathed as shallow as possible, convinced that he could hear her heart pounding like a drum. She slithered towards the back door at the other end of the warehouse that opened onto the wharf. But the man was like a bloodhound on a scent, those fiery eyes fastening on his prey. The girl raced toward the door and had almost reached it, when the man spoke.
"I know who you are, Miss Sassu' Barrin of D'dnarann." He spoke with a disarming smile. The girl froze. That name was from another lifetime, when she was still a small kataturo in her mother's kitchen. But she had left that behind when - no. She had not allowed herself to think of them in years. How would he-?
"I know who you are," he said again, somehow getting immense enjoyment at watching the disbelief flit across her face. "You're a roamer."

(to be continued)