An Evil Eye

128

A shape broke from the shadows down the street. It was not the shape of a dog, but of a man.

Yashim edged to the side of the gate and put up his hand to feel the stones. His fingers found a crevice and his arm tightened.

Had the moon been any brighter, Yashim might have recognized the bow-legged walk of Akunin; had he stopped to watch, he would have seen Shishkin step out from a doorway farther up the street, blocking his escape.

But Yashim did not stop to watch. With a sudden grunt he dragged himself up on his fingertips and scrabbled for a foothold on the wall.

Everything Kadri had told him about climbing vanished from his mind as he dug his toe into a crack and reached up.

The man on the street started to run.

Like Kadri, Yashim moved quickly, barely pausing to check his holds, using vertical fissures as well as horizontal, flinging hand over hand and using his feet to flail upward against the rough surface of the wall.

Akunin reached the base of the wall and lunged: Yashim felt fingers close around his ankle. He was gripping the stones above with one hand, the other searching wildly for a hold as he tried to break the pressure rapidly increasing on his ankle. But he could feel his fingers slipping from the stone and with it his balance beginning to move, driving his body away from the wall.

His free hand found a crevice between the stones and clutched at it: but it was almost too late.

Akunin held tight and dropped his weight behind his arm.