Robe

Chapter 34

Rusty opened his eyes. He was airborne yet again, but he didn't mind. He'd done this before.

He spread his arms out. The wind caused the exposed rag-shirt thing to slap him repeatedly in the face (as though the shirt was indignant at its circumstances) while he arced through the air, but he was grinning nonetheless. The landscape below was a little clearer now, and he recognized that he was heading back into town this time. The roofs of buildings below were getting larger, which probably meant he was descending.

And down he came, into the top of an abode some distance away from his 'take-off' point. Fortunately, he landed feet first (mostly), slamming into the solid roof and punching a hole right through. His hands shot out, preventing his head from making good and proper contact with the smooth timber. There was some contact, though, but it didn't hurt one bit. Rusty was now very-much aware how hard he was to kill in this place, and if only he had known earlier, maybe he wouldn't have panicked so much.

So, there he was, legs dangling through the ceiling of an unknown building, trying to get a purchase on the polished wood with his hands. Yes, he was a little dizzy, and yes, he was puffing like a chimney (being stuck in a roof was an appropriate place to be a chimney, really), but that was all, and he wondered yet again at how he was still alive. "Wow!" he said. "This is amazing!"

And then... he started to lose his grip on the roof and slip backward into the hole.

"No, no, no, no! No! No! No!" he cried. It didn't make any difference. He fell through, still yelling. The drop was maybe ten feet, and he crashed onto a table, smashing it completely and peppering the place with splinters, dust, and broken crockery (the table had been set, apparently). There he lay in the gloom, coughing and spluttering, and totally unharmed, totally unhurt. He started to laugh hysterically. It had been such a weird day.

"Mother, what is it?" came a small voice from nearby.

"Eran, we need to go!" came a second voice, a male. "You heard that thunder earlier! The Sire's katarn can deal with the brute there!"

Rusty got up on his elbows and tried to get his bearings. He was still coughing.

"It's not a brute, Libas! It's a boy!" came a third voice, this one female. As Rusty's eyes adjusted to the gloom, he could make out three figures standing by a closed doorway: a man, a woman, and a little girl.

Wait, no. There was a fourth figure there, the same height as the child. And it had glowing yellow eyes. "Frog-dog?" Rusty asked. Just when he thought the day could not get any weirder.

The katarn known as Mohon woofed. Yes, it was indeed the very same 'frog-dog', the katarn of the Queen and the companion of Dresden, Sire of Faramay. Mohon ambled cautiously over to the outsider who had just fallen through the roof. Was this outsider the same one as before? One of the young master's new friends?

"Frog-dog!" Rusty exclaimed. "It is you!" He got up unsteadily, staggering sideways as if he had been... well, as if he had been thumped by a club-wielding giant, then blown up by a smoky-headed, magic-grenade-launching creep-show, and finally sent flying into the roof of a building. The dirty overcoat was still stuffed down his front, but it had shifted around somewhat, puffing his chest out and making him look like he'd been working out with The Rock.

Mohon woofed excitedly. It was one of the outsiders! The not-so-powerful and very male one too, which meant Dresden wouldn't be so distracted. But what was the outsider doing here? And did he just fall through the roof?