The Alabaster Staff by Edward Bolme

across one intersection, then, a short distance afterward, another. At each of them, she attempted to take the least inviting passage. In that way she hoped to lose her pursuers. Her hope began to grow. With even one more intersection, the guards would have to start leaving branches to go unsearched.
    Her evasive strategy betrayed her when the alley branch she’d chosen slithered around an amateur wooden structure and dead-ended in a tall mud-brick wall. There was a heavy wooden door, but it had neither an external latch nor even a viewing slit by which she might hope to plead admittance.
    She retreated back the way she’d come, hoping she hadn’t lost too much time. She slowed as she reached the place where the branch spurred off the alley. She listened intently, opening her mouth to improve her hearing. Footsteps approached.
    “I think we’ve lost her,” said one voice, a youngster by the sound of it.
    “I don’t care,” replied a second, less cultured voice. “We’re gonna keep looking.”
    “Whatever,” said the first.
    “Hey, Pupface, don’t forget the Zhentarim said they’d match the bounty on her head. We stand to earn mintweight, especially if we find her before Chariq gets back from searching that other spur.”
    “You think she’d be dumb enough to go into a blind alley?” asked the youth.
    “Dumb enough to kill a Zhent,” said the older man with a grim chuckle. “And if dumb buys my grog and wenches, then she’s dumb enough for me.”
    “Absolutely.”
    Kehrsyn realized that fear and curiosity had rooted her to the spot like a hare transfixed by a cobra. The guards drew close, close enough that if she tried to move away quietly, they’d probably see her; but if she moved away quickly, they’d hear her. Either way, they’d pursue … but standing there thinking about it made each option less likely to succeed. Kehrsyn turned and ran hard back toward the dead end, counting on surprise to give her enough of a lead.
    With a foul oath, the two guards gave chase, their armor clanking in the narrow confines of the alley. Kehrsyn ran to the end, and just as she turned the last corner, she started scrambling up the wooden structure. It wasn’t easy. The planks were vertical, not horizontal, and slick with rain, but the few haphazard supporting members that angled across the wall gave enough of a foothold to help her ascend.
    She heard the guards turn the corner beneath her. Her sudden disappearance flustered them for a mere moment, but enough precious time for her to reach up and hook her fingers over a windowsill above her head. She prayed the sill was sturdy enough to support her weight and she pulled herself up as quickly as she could. The sill made a slight cracking sound, and Kehrsyn hoped it was simply the wood settling under her weight. She scrabbled with her feet to get any amount of elevation she could.
    “Up there!” shouted the younger guard.
    “Get ’er, curse you!” growled the elder.
    The fear of getting her foot cut off by a khopesh renewed her strength, and she pulled herself up farther.
    “Curse it! Jump, Pupface, she’s gettin’ away!”
    Kehrsyn kept her ears tuned as she climbed. When she heard Pupface grunt with exertion, she raised her heels.She heard the silky whisper of a blade slicing the air and felt a tug as the sharpened tip of the khopesh sliced her leather boot midway up her right shin.
    She put the windowsill to good use and scrambled farther up, out of reach of the guards.
    “Get up after her!” shouted the elder guard, striking the younger a cuff across the helmet that resounded in the narrow alley. “Now, or I’ll throw you up there myself!”
    Kehrsyn scrambled up onto a de facto balcony atop the second story of the structure. Pulling her cloak across her face, she peered back down at the two guards. The younger one was beginning a tentative and fearful climb after her. He probed the wall with his hands, trying to discover handholds that were more