[ IP ] Sight beyond sight

Jagen ’ s fingers had started to go numb by the time Tazimi finished unraveling the spells of protection over the darkened window. His foot ached where it was wedged into a little nook he ’ d found in the wall ’ s sheer face, his legs burned from crouching against the brickwork, and he was trying not to think about how nice a pint at the pub around the corner would taste when the telltale tickle of sorcery made him sneeze. He stifled it as best he could against his shoulder, but he could feel Tazimi ’ s glower from below as he wiped his nose on his hood. 
 
 “ There! ” She hissed up at him, magically throwing her voice so it whispered against his ear. “ Your time to shine, you noisy idiot. ” 
 
 “ It ’ s safe? ” He murmured back, ignoring her jibe as he adjusted his grip on the drainpipe. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the small woman put her hands on her hips. If it ’ d been safe to make more noise, he was sure she ’ d have tapped her foot. The hood thrown over her dark head didn ’ t conceal her scowl. 
 
 “ Yes, it ’ s safe. ” She sounded annoyed, which wasn ’ t unusual. “ Now go! ” 
 
 Jagen wedged his foot further into the nook. His knuckles popped, joints protesting at the sudden movement after more than twenty minutes held stiff. 
 
 The latch locking the window was cold, colder than it ought to have been in the warmth of the dying summer. Even after all these years above ground, seasons were still a novelty to Jagen. He ’ d grown up a Subber, one of the street kids of subterranean Bal Urzod, the Diamond Under The Mountain, where the air was always pleasant, cool, and damp. The hot, dry air here in Abria hadn ’ t warmed the iron of the window latch, and Jagen looked back down to Tazimi, confused. 
 
 “ The lock is cold. Are you sure- ” 
 
 “ It ’ s fine, Jag! The wizard probably just has a cold-stone set on the windowsill inside. ” She flicked her head to each side, looking up and down the alley. “ Get going before some drunkard comes by for a piss! ” 
 
 With a sigh, Jag pulled the lockpicks from his belt and set to work, gripping the drainpipe with his thighs and settling his weight into the foot-nook. After a brief struggle, Jagen proved victorious and the lock snicked open. Using the tip of the pick as a lever, he separated the two sides of the window just the breadth of the pick. Candlelight poured from the crack, in stark contrast to the unlit panes of glass. No alarms sounded, no change in pressure or tickling in his nostrils indicated magic, and no flaming destruction rained down on him, but Jagen ’ s heart sped into his throat and he whipped his gaze down to Tazimi. 
 
 She ’ d stilled, half in and half out of the blanketing shadows of the alley. 
 
 “ What do I do? ” Jagen asked. 
 
 “ Can you see anyone? ” 
 
 Silently, Jagen peered through the crack he ’ d made, then recoiled, almost losing his footing. A hooded figure sat, still as a stone, before a wide wooden desk. Candles littered the floor, the walls, the bookshelves, the very air itself - they floated unsupported around the figure ’ s head, casting flickering light throughout the room. Fear spiked through him, and, not daring to speak, he nodded his head. 
 
 Tazimi ’ s voice was tight, worried. “ The wizard? ” 
 
 He nodded again, harder. 
 
 “ What ’ s he doing? ” 
 
 Shocked, Jagen looked back to his partner. “ You want me to go in and ask him? ” He asked in a tiny whisper, his shuddering breath catching. “ I ’ m coming down. ” 
 
 “ No! ” Tazimi ’ s tone had changed. She was stern now, all business. “ We blow this job and we ’ re fucked. Abria is the best we can get outside of Kerra Ghen and you know we can ’ t go back to the capital if we want to live. ” She lifted a hand to her mouth, probably to chew on a fingernail like she always did when she was nervous. Then she dropped it, as if realizing what she ’ d done and wanting to cover the anxious gesture up with decisive action. “ Stay still. I ’ ll be right there. ” 
 
 “ What? ” He ’ d only just gotten the word out before he sneezed again. The tattoos on Tazimi ’ s fingers and wrists glowed a soft, warm gold that cast no illumination into the shadows around her. She hooked and crooked her fingers, moving her hands to encompass something in the air before her, then she lifted her knee and set her foot on the now solid air. She stamped on it, checking to see if it would hold, then ran up what seemed to Jagen to be an invisible set of stairs until she stood at his side. 
 
 “ Why couldn ’ t you have just done that for- ” 
 
 The rest of his sentence was muffled by Tazimi ’ s palm pressed tight to his lips. Her eyebrows dropped as she glared at him and raised a single finger, ringed at regular intervals with narrow black bands of ink, to her firmly closed lips. Jagen rolled his eyes and nodded, his fear lessening now that she was nearer. The two of them had gotten out of worse scrapes than this before. Jagen would happily put coin down to say they ’ d get out of worse in the future, too. She released him and moved so she could look through the opening in the window. 
 
 After a moment ’ s scrutiny, Tazimi whispered a few low syllables under her breath, then blew out a stream of air through the crack. Jagen almost did n't feel the tickle this time - a tiny spell, made to be almost undetectable. Someone without the Touch wouldn ’ t notice it, though he doubted it would fool the Wizard from whom they ’ d come to steal. He clenched his teeth and reached out for Taz, ready to fling her onto his back and slide down the drainpipe at the smallest sound of alarm. The skin on his palms burned in anticipation of the scrapes he was sure were imminent. 
 
 No alarm came. Tazimi stayed poised at the window, chest still, not breathing. Jagen edged a foot towards her and found that he too could stand on the solid patch of air. She was intently focused on the room inside the window, and his arms, for all their muscle, throbbed like anything. He released his hold on the drainpipe and pushed off to land beside the sorceress. She ignored him. 
 
 Jagen ’ s imagination flashed, running wild, thinking of what this would look like if Tazimi had been right, and a drunkard stumbled into the alley to relieve himself of the ale he ’ d imbibed in the pub. A slim man all in grays and greens and a short woman dressed for travel along the Road, standing suspended at a well known Wizard ’ s window. They ’ d have the advantage of the higher ground in a fight, he supposed, before correcting himself. The higher air. His stomach lurched and he looked straight up, avoiding sight of the ground. 
 
 Tazimi straightened up and touched his hand. He glanced down and regretted it. As she spoke, he turned his eyes skyward again. *What a time to gain a fear of heights, * he chided himself in his head. 
 
 “ He ’ s in a trance, I think. He didn ’ t notice my probe and he hasn ’ t moved at all - not even to breathe. ” Jagen felt her shift and would have bet she was chewing on that same fingernail from before. “ I think, ” she whispered, speaking around something in her mouth. “ I think we can go through with the job. ” 
 
 “ Okay… ” Jagen drew out the word, buying time. “ How long will he stay in the trance? ” 
 
 “ No way of knowing, but it ’ s only one book, right? We can nip in- ” 
 
 Jagen dropped his gaze to her face and tried hard to focus only on her wide brown eyes, the sprinkling of freckles over her nose - a souvenir from her topside upbringing and their time along the Road. The total absence of anything beneath her still made him want to throw up, but he suppressed the urge. “ We? ” He snapped, attempting to sound like he wasn ’ t about to vomit. “ No, Taz. Me. ” He curled his still-pale fingers around her brown ones as she shifted to move away. “ I nip in. You stay out here and down there. ” He pointed to the ground he wished he was on. 
 
 Tazimi shook her head. “ No. We go in together. That way, I can buy us some time if he wakes. He ’ ll leave you a smoking pile of plasm if I ’ m not there. ” 
 
 Jagen gulped. “ Can we not talk about that like it ’ s going to happen, please? ” 
 
 She smiled an uncharacteristically optimistic smile, slipped out of his grip, and whispered, “ It won ’ t! ” 
 
 He didn ’ t believe her, but when she pushed the windows open wide, he followed her just like he always did. 
 
 **PART 2 IS BELOW**
