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Chapter 22: Wild Goose Chase
It was clear that this was by no means Simon's greatest wish, for his demeanour was grudging and ill-tempered as she slowly descended the stairs. But he held the door open for her all the same, and she stepped over the threshold, into the brisk air of early winter. Hesitantly she took the steps one at a time, clutching to the railing. Her cheek ached dreadfully, even in the mere minute it had been exposed to the weather. The street bustled; horses trotted by, and the citizens of Sterling found their dogged way from this place to another. She took it all in, in deep, bewildering breaths; into her mind, into her lungs, into her heart. Life found her, once again, in a heady rush of sound, and noise; a caterwaul after the silence of her prison.
And it was too much. Energy, brimming and running over, teemed in every direction, flowing through her like great waves crashing against the surf. Her knuckles grew white against the railing, and she found her body
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Dear LiziweI have solved that case which called me away in such a hasty manner. It was, in the end, divinely simple; but that is not why I write you now. No, now I write on matters most adroit at turning the edge of boredom, that foul, double-headed serpent. It is decided: let us test your mettle. I throw at your feet a case: not a demanding one, but a case all the same. I will endeavour to the utmost not to influence your verdict, and will supply you with ample details, though the challenge truly lies in reading a scene in its natural state; but alas, it is not to be. You are not here, and we must make do, and hope for the best. Nevertheless, I beg of you to send a return with your thoughts, whatever they might be. Think of it, if you will, as an exercise in mental dexterity. The life of the Spinster of Tyoborha could hardly be a challenging one; though I grant that you do have a thirst for knowledge which, I must admit, rivals my own- but only in
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