On the first night, Landro tapped gently on the window, stood back, shivered a little because of the cold, and waited. Nothing happened for what he thought was a very long time, but it could just have felt that way because he’d been hoping for a quick reaction, so he waited as long again without making another move. Since there was still no response, he tapped again. Was that tap louder than the first one, he thought, or just the same? He had meant it to be louder, but it might not have been. Maybe it didn’t matter, because two equally quiet taps would have the same effect as a loud one on a light sleeper. Or maybe that wasn’t how these things worked.
They didn’t seem to be working at all at the moment, because Lisi still wasn’t answering. Landro tried again, this time knocking on the glass with his knuckles, and immediately regretted it. Lisi’s house was one of six in a habitation so small it had never been given a name, and at night there was none of the constant noise you would expect in a city or a large town. In such peaceful surroundings, Landro’s knocking should have had the same effect as a tree falling over. He looked round nervously, but nobody in the other houses seemed to have heard anything. They had probably been asleep for a long time, like any sensible person.
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