Page 18 of The Only Way Out Is Up

No idea. But I’m not sure what else to do except kill her. Let go, but stay close. Even barehanded I’m pretty sure this girl could break me in half.

[Agreement: you may need further rescuing. Addendum: you’re welcome.]

Can we do this later? I give a sort of embarrassed mental cough. Thanks, though.

Star pulls his blade away and hops off the girl’s back to the floor. She lets out a sigh of relief and sits down heavily on the bed, rubbing her throat.

There’s a long silence.

“Um. So.” Because what do you say in this situation? “Are you… okay?”

“Hmm?” She fumbles on the side of the bed for something. I tense, but it’s only a sigwork hand-lamp, which comes alive at her touch and throws a soft white light. “Yeah. Why?”

“You were screaming at me to slit your throat a minute ago.”

“Oh. I was just trying to forestall any rape and torture plans you might be cooking up.” She narrows her eyes. “That’s not why you’re here, is it? Because I could still rip your cock off.”

“No. Fucking stars, really?”

“Then why are you here? There aren’t a lot of good reasons for breaking into a girl’s bedroom in the middle of the night.”

“I didn’t think anybody was living here.” I pat the half-full pack on my back, feeling oddly embarrassed. “I’m just robbing the place.”

She opens her mouth in a soundless ah. It doesn’t seem to particularly upset her. “I wouldn’t have thought there was much worth taking.”

“There’s a few things.” I indicate the little lamp. “That, for one.”

“This?” She holds it up. “Really? This is just from the shop.”

I want to reply that we don’t have that kind of shop where I come from, but I pause, because the lamp illuminates her and I get a good look for the first time. She’s about my age and pretty in a narrow-faced, hawklike way, with a sharp nose and big, expressive eyes. Her hair is startlingly white, her eyebrows nearly invisible against her pale skin. Her bun has come loose in the fight, and long silver locks coil on the bed behind her. She’s wearing a long white nightgown that, while not at all revealing, reminds me that I have in fact invaded her privacy here; I feel a faint blush coming on, and try to fight it off. What kind of thief gets embarrassed at breaking into a girl’s room?

She’s staring back at me, presumably performing a similar evaluation, because the next thing she says is “Where’d you get the runic? I don’t recognize the design.”

I stiffen. “Doesn’t matter.”

“How’d you tell it to grab me? Hand signals? Or—”

“Look, you’re the one at sword point here,” I tell her. “Why are you asking the questions?”

Star advances on her and raises his blades. She bends down to stare at him.

“It’s cute,” she says. “I’ve never seen a fighting runic so small.” She pokes at his manipulator blade and stares in fascination as a small bead of blood forms on the tip of her finger.

[Assessment: the female is mad.]

I’m getting that impression. Her earlier wild emotions are completely gone, and now she seems utterly unfazed by my presence.

“It looks handmade,” she says, licking her fingertip like a cat. “But if you could afford custom sigwork, you wouldn’t be robbing me. So—”

“I built him, all right?” I manage.

“You built… him?”

Somehow her doubtful look makes me bristle. “What? Surprised that a Heaper has half a brain?”

“You’re from the undercity,” she says with the air of someone fitting a piece into place.

“So fucking what?”