Robin stared at the streak of water climbing toward a second-floor window. He had no idea what to do. Someone had already breached their defenses, and by the time he climbed up, it would be too late. Rock climbing had never been part of their training.
After a moment of stunned hesitation, his mind—stalled by the urgency of the situation—finally caught up. He didn't need to fight the wall. Taking the stairs would be faster.
The priest hurried toward the clinic's front entrance, pushed open the door, which had been left ajar, and burst into the bustle inside.
The rustle of pen and paper and the gentle crackle of the stove drifted through the room. Everyone was busy, oblivious to what was happening.
The apprentices, filling out paperwork and brewing medicine, looked up at the noise. They assumed a patient had come in with a nighttime emergency, and started deciding who would have the bad luck of waking the doctor. But Robin didn't look ill, and there was no patient behind him.
The assistant on duty rose from behind the counter, leaving most of the blank forms behind, and came to meet him. "Doctor David is on the second floor. I'll go up right away."
Robin had no time to explain what was happening. He swept past the assistant and found the stairs, leaving the others and their now-indistinct protests behind.
In his desperation, he could only think that there might be another victim upstairs. Whether he could face the intruder who had badly wounded his fellow priest alone was a secondary concern.
At worst, he just had to hold out long enough to keep the intruder from carrying out their plans at ease. Even a few exchanges would do. Reinforcements had the advantage in numbers and would arrive soon.