The lad-no, he corrected himself, not lad but maiden-could run like a lizard and climb nearly as well. They were running full out down Sultan Street, batting away the filmy silk banners that served as shop signs, when Tzigone suddenly disappeared. In two more steps, Matteo saw where she had gone: a narrow alley, shaded by tall buildings on either side and almost obscured by the thick flowering vines that twined up the walls. He skidded to a stop and darted in after her. Too late. As he rounded the corner, he heard the wemic’s voice lifted in a sound that was half snarl, half guttural chuckle, and utterly triumphant. Tzigone heard it, too. She cast a baleful look over her shoulder at Matteo and began to climb the vine-covered walls. “At least try to hurry,” she muttered. Matteo tested a handful of the fragrant vines and found that they would hold his weight. The rough stones on the wall beneath provided footholds. It was not unlike some of his training exercises, and he managed to almost keep pace with Tzigone.
