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[h2][center] Siobhan [/center][/h2]

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Niko chuffed in amusement, not unlike a particularly savvy cat.

“Do I look like a Bohemian to you?” His eyebrow quirked as he looked back over his shoulder, and they reached the attic. “Although, as it happens, defenestration of a sort is precisely what will be happening here.”

Ana shook her head disapprovingly.

“I really must warn you though, it is rather odd up here. If you find yourself motion sick easily, or dislike optical illusions, you may wish to close your eyes.”

The interior of the attic would be best described as somewhat bizarre; although it was for the most part comprised of supports and empty space, some of which was occupied by random clutter and previous belongings as it should be in any attic, the beams holding the roof up had been reconfigured around its middle. Rather than occurring in regular rows and columns, they had been delicately rearranged to form a rough semicircle - at the centre of which, set into the roof in that way they often are, was a window. Facing the window, four metres back from it, there was a great armchair of dark red leather, its arms and its seat stained with something ancient and once-vital.

The arrangement of the room was not, however, its most bizarre quality.

No. The strangest thing was that whomever had once occupied it had clearly devoted a tremendous expense in terms of time and manpower both to hanging broken shards of mirror almost everywhere apart from the semicircle itself.

Three metres between each share, equidistant all of them. All at the same height.

“I told you, it’s weird up here. I’ve been trying to figure out why they did it - right now I think they were looking for power, or protection, but...”

He trailed off. Did he trail off? He may have trailed off, or Siobhan’s ears may have given up in protest.

No, her ears were working. She could hear it when the pull-down stairs up to the attic slammed shut behind her, hard.

Like they were pushed. Or thrown.