When I returned Ana was still staring out the window. She remained quiet all through the evening, even as I convinced her to eat some dinner.
Night fell slowly and Ana sighed. "Goodnight, Watson," she said. Lightening forked across the sky as she retired to her room.
I couldn't sleep for worry, and so I sat up reading in front of the fire. I must have dozed off, though, because the next I remember I heard footsteps on the stairs.
I jumped, assuming it was Sherlock, then listened.
Squelch... Squelch... Squelch...
The footsteps were wet and spongy, and it sounded as though some creature of the deep was approaching. My childhood fear of monsters rose within me, and I grabbed the fire poker with a loud grating noise. The footsteps outside the door stopped.
"For heaven's sake, Watson, put the poker down," Ana said, and opened the door.
I stared, amazed. Ana was soaked to the bone, her old thief's clothing plastered to her shivering body. Her hair was slicked straight to her face and neck, and she dripped without stopping, creating a small puddle on the floor.
She coughed and spat on the floor. "Don't just stand there, get me a towel."
I rushed to obey. Ana shook like a dog and then accepted the warm linen. She rubbed her face and hair dry, then wrapped the towel around her and squelched to her room.
In a few moments she emerged in dry clothing, wrapped in yet another towel. Her feet were bare, so this time she squeaked instead of squelched.
She shambled to the fireplace and then accepted the cup of tea I offered. Cross-legged in front of the fire, Ana sighed.
Now I was angry. "Where have you BEEN, young lady?"
"I'm not a lady," Ana said as she blew across the top of the tea, then took a sip. "And I was looking for Holmes."
"Where? In the ocean?"
"The river. Although, I didn't expect to end up there..." Ana took another sip and commenced her tale.
"From the dust I knew that the sewers were somehow connected. Once you were asleep, (and I could tell by your snoring, Watson) I snuck out and walked back to the bank. I found the loose cobblestone from before. Underneath was a ladder, which I climbed down. It was dark, but I knew my way around. I started to walk towards Ashwood Road. I passed underneath Baker Street, once. I could tell because making my way along I encountered a certain yellow stone." Ana grinned. "I accidentally kicked it into the water, before I realized what it was. Oh, well. I continued to follow the route that I had marked on Holmes' map when I saw a light up ahead and heard voices. Then sewers branched off to the right in a place that wasn't marked."
Ana stood and pointed to a location on the map. "Right there," she said. "I followed the voices very carefully. At the end of this unmarked tunnel was another ladder. I watched two men climb up this ladder, then followed."
I gasped. "Weren't you caught?"
"I'm never caught," Ana said grimly. "I emerged in the back of a huge shed at the waterfront. The two men went through a door, and I crept behind them and listened at the keyhole. Someone was laughing. 'A conviction for sure, good work,' one of the men said, 'Good night, then.' Before I had time to move they opened the door and I spilled on to their feet. I was up and out the front door like the wind, but one man was just as quick. He chased me all the way out on to the bridge. I knew I couldn't out run him, so... I jumped. Headfirst. A spectacular dive if I do say so, myself." Ana stopped and whistled, and the far away look on her face told me she was reliving her fall. "Must've been forty feet."
I gasped again, but Ana continued, unruffled. "I swam underwater as far as I could, and then crawled out and found my way back here, soaking wet and none the wiser about Holmes."
Ana finished the tea and then stood, exhausted. The early morning light shimmered through the window as she said spoke. "Goodnight, Watson."
"But it's morning," I protested as I watched her stumble to her room
Night fell slowly and Ana sighed. "Goodnight, Watson," she said. Lightening forked across the sky as she retired to her room.
I couldn't sleep for worry, and so I sat up reading in front of the fire. I must have dozed off, though, because the next I remember I heard footsteps on the stairs.
I jumped, assuming it was Sherlock, then listened.
Squelch... Squelch... Squelch...
The footsteps were wet and spongy, and it sounded as though some creature of the deep was approaching. My childhood fear of monsters rose within me, and I grabbed the fire poker with a loud grating noise. The footsteps outside the door stopped.
"For heaven's sake, Watson, put the poker down," Ana said, and opened the door.
I stared, amazed. Ana was soaked to the bone, her old thief's clothing plastered to her shivering body. Her hair was slicked straight to her face and neck, and she dripped without stopping, creating a small puddle on the floor.
She coughed and spat on the floor. "Don't just stand there, get me a towel."
I rushed to obey. Ana shook like a dog and then accepted the warm linen. She rubbed her face and hair dry, then wrapped the towel around her and squelched to her room.
In a few moments she emerged in dry clothing, wrapped in yet another towel. Her feet were bare, so this time she squeaked instead of squelched.
She shambled to the fireplace and then accepted the cup of tea I offered. Cross-legged in front of the fire, Ana sighed.
Now I was angry. "Where have you BEEN, young lady?"
"I'm not a lady," Ana said as she blew across the top of the tea, then took a sip. "And I was looking for Holmes."
"Where? In the ocean?"
"The river. Although, I didn't expect to end up there..." Ana took another sip and commenced her tale.
"From the dust I knew that the sewers were somehow connected. Once you were asleep, (and I could tell by your snoring, Watson) I snuck out and walked back to the bank. I found the loose cobblestone from before. Underneath was a ladder, which I climbed down. It was dark, but I knew my way around. I started to walk towards Ashwood Road. I passed underneath Baker Street, once. I could tell because making my way along I encountered a certain yellow stone." Ana grinned. "I accidentally kicked it into the water, before I realized what it was. Oh, well. I continued to follow the route that I had marked on Holmes' map when I saw a light up ahead and heard voices. Then sewers branched off to the right in a place that wasn't marked."
Ana stood and pointed to a location on the map. "Right there," she said. "I followed the voices very carefully. At the end of this unmarked tunnel was another ladder. I watched two men climb up this ladder, then followed."
I gasped. "Weren't you caught?"
"I'm never caught," Ana said grimly. "I emerged in the back of a huge shed at the waterfront. The two men went through a door, and I crept behind them and listened at the keyhole. Someone was laughing. 'A conviction for sure, good work,' one of the men said, 'Good night, then.' Before I had time to move they opened the door and I spilled on to their feet. I was up and out the front door like the wind, but one man was just as quick. He chased me all the way out on to the bridge. I knew I couldn't out run him, so... I jumped. Headfirst. A spectacular dive if I do say so, myself." Ana stopped and whistled, and the far away look on her face told me she was reliving her fall. "Must've been forty feet."
I gasped again, but Ana continued, unruffled. "I swam underwater as far as I could, and then crawled out and found my way back here, soaking wet and none the wiser about Holmes."
Ana finished the tea and then stood, exhausted. The early morning light shimmered through the window as she said spoke. "Goodnight, Watson."
"But it's morning," I protested as I watched her stumble to her room
