 | ( This should go in between some stuff. Sorry. Got balled up. )
Eventually she followed the trail to the roof of the grain bin. Clinging to
the wall beside the entrance, she allowed herself to become visible.
Brushing her light brown hair back from her face, the half-elf peered into
the small area and gave the friendliest smile she could.
"Don't run," she said, "It's not worth risking your life to try and escape."
Ajali found the hubbub he created by fingering the little pinch purse
highly amusing. It also took the lantern light from him. The blind
man grumbled nastily as the crowd dispersed. Carelya watched as
people became more involved with themselves than with Ajali's
predicament.
"How did you know he was there?" she asked.
"I can see things that others do not," Ajali answered her.
Carelya swallowed convulsively, "Is the blind man telling the truth?
Are you a nightwalker?"
Ajali guided her around an unfrozen puddle as they began walking
again, "I walk in both daylight and darkness."
"Then you can't be one of the undead," she said matter-of-factly.
"That depends on what you call undead," he returned, "I am neither
dead nor alive by your standards. I simply am. It is a part of my
existence that defies explanation."
Carelya was even more confused by this answer, so she decided to
ignore it completely.
"Then you aren't undead."
"No, not exactly."
The girl shifted her grip on Ajali's arm and began to point out the
more interesting stalls to him. The blind man followed a few paces
behind the trio, using the various tables and ropes to guide his way.
Nanny Wilsy glared at everybody, daring them to say or do anything
untoward.
Carelya sighed loudly, "Then what are you?"
Ajali gave her a beguiling look, "Merely a foreign man in the presence
of a pretty local lady taking in the market at a festival."
Despite herself, Carelya smiled, "You are a flirt."
Before he could come back with an answer, four town guards pushed
aside the shoppers thronging the alley. The blind man, sensing his
chance, again began his tirade.
"Arrest this foul nightwalker, this drinker of innocent blood!"
Vance squeaked in alarm again. How had the woman found him? He'd been
careful, he'd checked his back trail; he hadn't gone to ground until he was
certain nobody was watching. Maybe what he'd heard - and discounted - was
true; maybe the Guard in Montfort had mages working for them. But surely a
few stolen purses weren't worth a mage's time...
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