Page 33 of The Seeker

My pace slowed considerably as I would move only a single rung with my hand grip, holding on for dear life as I moved my feet in a separate motion—nothing like the ease of true climbing as Ena had been able to emulate.

Even a childhood of climbing trees hadn’t prepared me for this.

Ena reached the top of the roof, glancing toward the mouth of the alley before reaching back down for my hand. I placed the sword into it.

Once I had use of both my hands, it only took two breaths more for me to reach the top. I vaulted myself over the clay railing, realizing the roof was lower than the top of the ladder, making a nice barrier for the family that lived here as they walked around the roof. I could already picture them sitting up here after their evening meal, watching as the sun set behind the towering red mountains.

Ena didn’t even give me a chance to catch my breath before she was moving, grabbing a wooden plank from where it lay against the rim of the roof.

At first, I was confused, but then I saw her lay the board from the edge of the roof we were on, connecting it with the next. I peered over the edge, my mouth dry as I deduced what she intended for us to do.

“Ena,” I gasped. “I can’t⁠—”

“You have to. Come on, it’s a common way to traverse Malheim, especially when the streets are packed with a parade.” The sound of someone shouting for the gods to save him from below brought a grimace to my lips. “. . . or a battle.”

I shook my head. I wasn’t scared of heights, but I was scared of falling. Ralheim homes weren’t built like this, and I wondered immediately why anyone would even plan on a solution like this. It felt so⁠—

“You think Adis was the only one executing random house checks? Come on.” I could feel Ena’s annoyance as she motioned for me to climb up onto the board. “As kids, we all learned to cross these, often going a few homes down to stay with the childless couple until it was safe enough to return home.”

My chest tightened. I’d repressed the negative memories of my upbringing—having too many other things to focus on—but now they were back with a vengeance. As was the determination to prove that I was better than the men who had repressed me.

I was Runa Wormald, and I could cross a wooden beam placed between two homes.

Of course, my limbs didn’t agree with my verbal resolve as I crossed the roof and climbed up on the board, the vibration of my footfalls making the nearly two-story drop appear more dangerous than it was. Without a word, Ena moved to hold the board in place. It didn’t make the other side any more stable, but it at least helped me feel more secure.

Remembering something I’d once heard my mother say, I crouched a bit lower, and though my knees protested at the awkward stance, I immediately felt more secure with my impressive height removed from the equation.

A woman’s center of gravity is in her hips.

The words were a breath on the wind as I squat-walked to the next roof, using my sword to help balance myself as I kept my steps small. The moment I was standing on a firm surface, I turned to return to favor, using my hands to hold the board steady as Ena crossed.

We repeated this process, gaining speed with each crossing. While I tried to count the roofs at first, wanting to orient myself, I eventually gave up, allowing Ena to guide me out of a city she was far more acquainted with than I was.

Something I would be inquiring about later.

Just as I had with everything in my life up until that point, I threw myself into the task, pushing myself to complete it with efficiency without distractions. That didn’t mean I didn’t glance down from time to time, noticing how with each street we crossed there were fewer soldiers on the street below us.

Sometimes, a child dressed in rags hiding behind a pile of refuge, or a woman peering cautiously out her door, would glance up, but they never said anything at the sight of two women crossing the city by rooftop.

I frowned. There were so few men. Other than those who wore uniforms—their focus on the battle at hand rather than the sounds coming from above—the only other males we passed were in their last years, their beards graying and their shoulders hunched as they carried out various tasks.

When I was finally able to tear my gaze away from the city streets to look up, we were on the edge of town, the beautiful red mountains stretching ahead of us. I tilted my ear to the sky, the sounds of battle too far away to hear with clarity anymore.

Ena walked around the roof, locating the ladder embedded in the clay before climbing down. Tired of the sword, but knowing we would still need it, I tossed it over the edge several feet from the ladder before climbing down to stand next to her in the dirt. I brushed my hands together, but the dirt coating my palms refused to budge. I gave up, putting my hands on my hips to match Ena’s stance.

We stood side by side, gazing at the mountains.

We were almost free.

“I don’t have many supplies,” I admitted suddenly, realizing I didn’t even have a water skin.

Ena nodded. “Me either. I’ve got some jerky in my pouch, but we will have to forage.”

“What about a water skin?” I’d never been to Shianp, but I knew it was a long way—that was one of the reasons the king rarely visited Heimland.

Ena frowned. “I have a few coins—I was headed to the market . . .” She motioned to the house we’d just crawled down from. “Let me see if whoever lives here will sell me one.”

I pulled the dagger from my pants, holding it out to her. “Here, see if they have a cloak for me as well.” A distinct cramping in my gut reminded me what else I would need. “And cloths for my menses,” I added with a grimace. I wouldn’t survive long in just the shirt and breeches.