Scoundrels' Jig (The Chronicles of Eridia)
Page 19
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When the Pawns’ footsteps had faded, Mr. Stone and Mr. Sand emerged from behind the open door. After Mr. Sand relit the lantern, the two men stared at Jack’s corpse and the still-spreading pool of blood around it.
“Well, now,” said Mr. Sand. “It appears it was not the Snowman who was ultimately responsible for Jack’s death, after all. It’s a good thing we didn’t wager on that particular score.”
“Very true,” said Mr. Stone. “I must say, it is a shame those fornicating Yellow Pawns didn’t think to check behind the door, what with the clever ambush we had prepared for them.”
“Yes, quite a shame.” Mr. Sand cocked his head and listened for a second, then stuck his head out the doorway.
“What are you—” Mr. Stone began.
“Sh! Listen.”
Both of the men listened intently. In the distance were the sounds of the Yellow Pawns’ voices, once again too faint to be understood, and the clomp of boots ascending the stairs to the third floor.
“We should flee now, while they are ambulationing on the upper stories,” Mr. Sand said.
Mr. Stone scowled at his associate. “See here, Mr. Sand, old soldiers do not flee anything, under any circumstances.”
“Quite right, Mr. Stone. My apologies. I merely meant that we should use this opportunity to retrench in a location more favorable to our eventual success.”
Mr. Stone nodded. “Brilliant strategy, Mr. Sand. Let us go.”
Quiet as cats in a dog pound, they crept down the hallway, tiptoed downstairs, and disappeared into the swamp.