"Oh, spitting spirits, my
shoes
!"
Orion pinched the bridge of his nose. The shriek from behind him came as high-pitched as a seagull's, piercing through the wind like a hedgehog's quills.
He took a sip of coffee from his travel cup, wincing as he clumsily burned his tongue. "I told you to bring those boots."
"Ugh, those old things you offered me? I thought you'd lost a couple brined cow fetuses." Sapnettle hopped up next to him. She was tall and willowy, with shimmering blonde hair that swept down to her chest. Currently she wore a short green tabard and short dark green skirt. Matching her eyes and jangling jade earrings, they were clearly more for fashion than function, a bimbo's idea of an adventuring outfit. A white hairband kept her wavy golden locks from blowing into her face. She pouted full pink-painted lips. "I may be helping a constable, but that doesn't mean I have to dress like a prison cell."
Orion's eyes traveled downward. Sapnettle was wearing a pair of exceptionally pretty silver slippers embroidered with designs of twisting rose briars. Or rather, she was wearing one shoe, because the other dangled from her fingertips, absolutely caked in mud. The witch was balanced precariously upon one foot to protect her striped pastel blue stockings.
He looked her up and down, trying not to notice how her short skirt billowed high around her lifted leg. "We have to be
moving
, you know. There's no telling how far--"
"Yeah, yeah, I gotcha." She rolled her eyes. "Remember who you're talking to, okay?"
She raised the shoe to eye level and spoke a word of power.
Life surged into the shoe. Orion flinched back reflexively as it sprang from Sapnettle's hand and to a nearby rock. It rubbed against the stone like a dog scratching an itch, scraping the mud away, then shook itself clean.
It bounded back to rest right next to its twin, and she beamed. "There's a good shoe! Now..." Still awkwardly balancing, she wove her fingers in a careful pattern, pursed her lips, and blew on her hands. Wisps of pink magic trailed from her fingertips and dripped down to settle around both shoes.
Orion watched as the deep mud around each of her slippers seemed to harden in seconds into dry, cracked clay. He folded his arms, waiting.
The witch smirked, slid the slipper on, and finally returned to standing on both feet. "Never underestimate a witch, Orion."
She made to take a step and fell flat on her face.
Unbeknownst to Sapnettle, her left foot had sunk quite deep into the mud while she'd been putting all her weight on it. Now the mud was as solid as fired clay.
Orion rolled his eyes. "Was it worth it?" he asked, as he reached down and pulled the witch up.
Sapnettle's eyes blazed. Spells dribbled from her mouth, rapidly cleaning the mud from her face, hair and outfit. "I
hate
traveling in the mud! Why couldn't we take a carriage? The thief will be on foot; we'd be at an advantage!"
"Being on foot makes it easier to go off-road." Orion started walking again, and Sapnettle followed, the mud now drying out before her slippers touched it and softening the second her slippers left it. "Besides, a coach would've been too expensive."
Sapnettle stuck her tongue out. "We'd probably have caught her by now. She can't have made it to Amberbury with how heavy
it
is. Not in that storm."
Orion felt irritation creeping into his voice like lichen through cracks in pavement. "You also didn't think anyone would be able to steal it to begin with."
"They
couldn't
have! I mean, she
did
, but she shouldn't have been able to! I don't know how some petty thief possibly could have known all the safeguards."
"Burglar. And, well, of course not. You've never dealt with Celia Stonethrow." He kicked a loose glowpebble that had found its way back to the surface. "From what I hear, the Council of Constables has been trying to catch her for years. She's good at finding out what she shouldn't." He scowled down at the mud. "She's never stolen anything like this before, though."
A new voice rose over the whistling winds. "Anything like what?"
Orion jumped and spun around.
He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting to encounter on these muddy hills.
He was positive it hadn't been a bunnygirl in a leotard.
