It rapidly began to darken as I neared the mouth of the
final alleyway, the last I would pass before coming to the graveled
drive leading to my home. As I neared the far side of its gapping
maw, a noise came from within which I chose to ignore. If I didn’t see
it, then it didn’t happen as far as I was concerned. I merely desired to
reach home where a warm bath and a hot drink were waiting for me.
I had just cleared the alley’s mouth when powerful hands
reached out and grabbed me. The right arm clamped around my waist
like a vice, tighter than the whale-bone corset I was wearing. Its
strength unlike anything I had never known, although the hand itself
felt long and slender; a gentleman’s hand.
I attempted a scream, but my attacker’s left hand clamped
forcefully over my mouth. It was just as strong as its twin; but it was
cold, deathly cold; and that more than anything negated my struggles.
Damascus appeared whimsical and strong as he
stood facing me, but fear flickered deep in his eyes, in his
soul. His apprehension toward me was evident, but he
would not go down without a fight; and that was all the
more to my liking.
“Have you come for this?” he motioned to the
medallion which lay against his cold skin.
I barely glanced at the mellow silver with the blood
ruby set into its heart. I knew its every detail intricately: the
engraving of the ancient letters on its back, as well as the
molding of the star and moon, of which the ruby was the
star’s focal point.
“If you won’t hand it over peaceably, I will take it
from you.” I stepped back giving myself another foot of
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