Drawing yet another deep, slow, calming breath, the girl gathered her strength and prepared for the last effort to get over the wall. She rebraced her legs and twisted her right hand around a full turn, swiveling it in a complete circle and once again grasping the top of the stone. Then she released her other hand and crossed it over her right, allowing herself to roll out into space and make a half turn with her whole body. She lunged around and caught hold of the top of the wall with her free hand and hung there, facing the wall, her nose pressed against it. Her toes found a hold on the top of the window frame, and from there it was easy to drag herself up and over the top of the parapet and to the platform.
Emriana collapsed in a heap there, breathless. She had done it. She had managed to scale the wall. She closed her eyes and sighed in relief. From that point, getting out of the estate was a simple process.
"Sneaking out again, O sister of mine?" came a voice from the darker shadows on the far side of the platform.
Emriana nearly shrieked in fright before she realized it was Evester, her oldest brother.
"Waukeen! You scared the hells out of me!" she fussed at him, flopping her head back onto the tiles and waiting for her heart to stop thumping. "What are you doing up here?"
Evester laughed softly and stepped out from where he had been standing, hidden in the murky darkness of a great chimney.
"I could ask you the same thing, Em," he said, coming to lean over the parapet next to Emriana and peer down over the edge, where she had just ascended. "At least I used the stairs to get here. You could have broken your neck."
"But I didn't," was all the girl replied, feeling a little smug. "You and Uncle Dregaul can't seem to figure out that I'm not a little girl anymore. I can take care of myself."
"That may be," Evester replied, still leaning on his elbows as he stared out over the city beyond the walls, "but only children take such foolish chances just to prove others wrong."
Emriana pursed her lips and refused to answer her brother. She sat up finally and looked at him. Everyone in the family said Evester resembled their father, with his strong jawline and piercing black eyes, but Emriana really couldn't have said one way or another; she was too young when Obril Matrell died, barely over a year old, and she didn't remember him. The only thing she had to go on was a great portrait of her father when he was much younger, which hung over a fireplace in her grandmother's sitting room.
Emriana thought Evester looked older than the person in that painting, much older than she would have expected for his twenty-eight years. He appeared old enough to have been her father, though he certainly didn't much act like one, nor did he seem much like a brother. In truth, she saw more of Evester's twin children than she did of him lately.
"How's Uncle Dregaul?" Emriana asked finally, just to change the subject.
"Fine, I would assume," Evester answered absently, still gazing out over the lights of Arrabar. "He's in the offices still, looking over some bills of lading."
Emriana grunted, not really sure what her brother was talking about and not really caring. To her, all of the musty old parchment sheets and columns of figures Dregaul and Evester poured over every day were the worst kind of boring.
Evester didn't seem to notice her sour reaction to his answer. He merely stared out over the city, his arms folded across the parapet.
"Do you realize how much of this city is controlled by only a handful of families?" he asked.
"No," Emriana replied, thinking it was time to go. "A lot?"
"Nine-tenths of this city's wealth is tied up in half a dozen family holdings. Ninety-nine one-hundredths is controlled by perhaps fifteen Houses. It really is remarkable. And it makes it exceedingly difficult for any true business breakthroughs to occur. No one is willing to explore the possibility of joint ventures, mergers, anything bold, because that would involve risk. And when you take a risk, there are other Houses perched around the periphery, waiting to gobble up your failures."
"Are you going to tell Uncle Dregaul that I snuck out, or not?" Emriana asked at last, tired of playing the waiting game with Evester to see what his intentions were. "You know that tonight is Spheres. I really don't want to miss it."
"Er, what?" Her brother replied, apparently drawn out of much deeper thoughts. "No, Em. That's between you and him. But if you ask me my opinion-"
"I didn't."
"— I would suggest," Evester continued, ignoring the interruption, "that you think seriously about what's to be gained versus what there is to lose. It's really all about acceptable risk. A night on the town against possible danger to life and limb and a scolding from Uncle Dregaul. Every time you climb up onto the roof, every time you prowl the streets of the city unescorted, you are risking much more than what you gain. In the business world, you'd be considered a poor investment. Too much risk." Emriana rolled her eyes.
"Look," she said, "my birthday is in three days, Vambran is returning tonight with presents, and there's a festival in the streets. I'm not sitting here while all of the fun is out there."
"Ah, yes," Evester replied. "My prodigal brother returns from high adventure on the open seas once again. No wonder you're so eager to be on your way." He shrugged and added, "Suit yourself, but be careful. You know what kind of trouble roams the streets on a night like this."
"I won't be wandering alone," Emriana explained. "Uncle Dregaul is sending the carriage to fetch Vambran, and I just want to ride along." The girl gave an exasperated sigh and muttered, half to herself, "I don't know why he wouldn't just let me go. I'm not a child."
She rolled her eyes again, though she realized Evester probably couldn't see the expression.
"Besides," she added, "Vambran said he had a surprise for me, made it seem like he was standing right next to me, whispering in my ear. Can you imagine how he pulled that off?"
Emriana gushed, smiling as she got to her feet. She twirled once, imagining what it must be like out there, watching the Waukeenar clergy parading through the streets as they flung the glass spheres filled with coins, cheap trinkets, and tiny gems up into the air.
"And if you're still worried, don't be," the girl said, "because I've got this-"
She withdrew a slender bejeweled dagger where it had been nestled in a finely tooled scabbard, which itself was tucked into the sash at her waist. The dagger had been a present from Vambran, brought all the way from Aglarond.
"Do you even know how to use that?" Evester asked.
"Yes," Emriana retorted, rolling the dagger deftly through her hands then flipping it through the air before smoothly resheathing it. "I got Argen and some of the other guards to teach me a few things."
Evester snorted. "A little sleight of hand is far different from a street fight, you know. And you'd better not let Uncle Dregaul catch you hanging around the barracks. You know he won't consider that very proper."
"Duly noted," Emriana replied sarcastically, using a phrase both Evester and Uncle Dregaul seemed fond of and employed frequently. "If there's nothing else, then, dear brother, I'm on my way."
"Em," Evester said, looking pointedly at the girl then.
"Yes?" she said, pausing before hopping up onto another section of wall to begin her descent toward the perimeter of the estate and the streets of Arrabar beyond.
"Be careful."
Emriana smiled.
"I will," she said, and waved once before she crossed over the wall and began to tiptoe along the peaked roof of the estate.
She could feel Evester's eyes still on her as she reached the edge and dropped down over the side. From there, it was a simple matter to cross over to the kitchen, and the barracks, by way of the roofs. The back side of the barracks was close to a zalantar tree that grew near one wall of the property. Emriana dropped down into it from the roof of the barracks, using its many fanned-out trunks to stabilize herself. Making her way across carefully, she reached the wall and scrambled onto the walkway atop it.