Jareth entered the room and looked around. Miranda wasn’t there. He had waited and stood for quite some time in her art room, allowing her to settle herself before speaking to her again—and she was not even in the room. Had he missed her going back down the stairs? He didn’t think he missed any movement she made. He sighed and glanced out the window. He was halfway to leaving the room when he spotted a piece of rope going out the window. Going over he followed the rope to the leg of her bed. She had tied the bloody rope to her bed and went out the window!
Spinning around, he leaned out the window and looked down. She was halfway to the ground. “What are you doing?”
Randy jumped and her foot slipped off the wall. Twirling around like a corkscrew, she winced when her shoulder connected with the siding on the house. She braced her feet out, stopped the spin, and then looked up at him. “I was practicing, at least until you scared me to death! Geez, Jareth, next time just scream in my ear.” She clutched the contraption on the rope, squeezing so she wouldn’t slide down it too fast again. She squinted and looked up at him. “It’s not as hard as I thought it would be.” She motioned with her chin to the thing in her hands. “This makes it pretty simple to go back up—”
“Come up here.” His voice was very low and quiet as he spoke.
Looking down at the ground, she tried to figure out if it was closer than the window. He had that look again and she didn’t feel like another grunting match with him. She was still mortified that she had thrown the vase at him. Yeah, it was ugly and wasn’t special to her, but she didn’t lose her temper like that—ever! If she slipped down too fast and landed on her butt again while he watched, he’d freak and that wouldn’t help anything. She closed one eye against the sun and looked at him. “Are you still pissed at me?”
“At this very moment in time I am anxious that you are dangling from a rope tied to your bed, and that you very well might fall right to the ground.”