The light is blinding as she looks up into the sky then out over the roofline of the city with it's old and new meshing into one harmonious whole. It seems so close. She runs her hand over the stone block that makes up the parapet. She looks over the edge and tries to gage the distance to the ground. Not enough, she realizes, when she hears the tapping scratch of hard-soled shoes on the rough stone behind her. She looks over the edge again, willing it higher.
"Not enough, my dear," he lilts, his accent faltering here and there on the unfamiliar words.
"I know." She can't quite keep the half-sob from her words.
"Not to worry, you are going to leave here soon by another means," he simpers. "I have a very important task, just for you—a favor, you might say," he titters at his own joke. His voice grows closer as he draws up behind her, "It is very important to me, Liebling. Your reward will be—something I think you will like very much."
She can feel his breath on her neck now and she can't control her shudder when his hands slide up her bare arms. He pushes aside the long, tangled mass of her hair and his hands come to rest securely on her shoulders. His hold brings a grimace to her lips.
"You would release them?" Her voice trembles embarrassingly with her bold words. She knows it's false hope but she can't stop herself.
"No, Liebling." She can hear the smile in his voice at her ear. "But—I will not use them before you return. It may take you some time—and you will have as much time as you require. You must plant some seeds and watch them grow."
"You won't use them?" She turns to face him, twisting out of his bone-grinding grasp. "You swear?" She knows she has nothing but his word but she feels the need to see his eyes.
"Yes," is all he says. She searches his eyes but sees nothing, just the deadness.
He steps closer and she forces herself not to step back. The parapet is there—and the too-short drop beyond. He leans down and kisses her cheek. She turns only minutely away but he notices, catching her wrist in his crushing grip and squeezing tightly. She gasps at the sudden pain. "Please..." she manages, hating herself.
"Of course, Liebling." He releases her instantly and in one small rebellion, brushes her fingers over the spot his lips had touched, removing a small patch of lingering moisture.
"Come," he is already striding back to the door that leads down to the darkness below. "We have much to discuss. Your obvious gifts will be of much use, but you will be called upon to use all your gifts, Liebling. You must get me what I require. I'm sure you will find suitable means at your disposal."
Slowly she begins to walk, dragging herself away from the city view. The breeze flutters the fabric of her torn, filthy dress but the coolness on her legs is wonderful. Following at her own pace, she looks up at the bright cloudless cerulean sky and savors the feel of the warm sunlight on her skin.
He turns impatiently and when he sees her, he laughs. "Yes, you must keep your eyes to the sky," he says enigmatically.
She only vaguely wonders what she will have to do. She eyes the darkened doorway with suspicion, thinks about leaving and feels something like hope well up inside her.