Typical garb of the Sorceri females. In fact, if one's apparel didn't weigh more than the wearer, then one was underdressed.
By the time Sabine was exiting the next cell down, Lanthe had finished with the knots "Any luck?"
Sabine tore free yet another cage door, peered at pale faces, then shook her head.
"Do I have time to check the smaller cells in the basement?" Lanthe asked.
"If we're back at the portal in twenty minutes we should be all right." Their portal back to their home of Rothkalina was a good ten minutes away through dank London streets.
Lanthe blew a jet-black plait from her forehead. "Watch the guard and keep the freed inmates inside this hall quiet."
Sabine's gaze flitted over the unconscious male sprawled on the squalid floor, and her lip curled in disgust. She could read the minds of humans, even when they were blacked out, and the contents of this one's were giving even Sabine pause.
"Very well. But hurry with the transfer," Sabine said. "Else we'll attract our foe."
Lanthe's blue eyes gazed upward out of habit. "They could be here at any second." She hastened to the stairwell once more.
Their lives had become a droning cycle: Steal a new power, flee enemies, have power stolen by a smooth-talking Sorceri male, steal a new power. . . . Sabine allowed it to continue.
Because she'd ruined Lanthe's innate ability.
When her sister was gone, Sabine muttered, "Look after the guard. Very well..."
Lifting the man by his collar and belt, she tossed him in front of the exit doors. Some of the denizens grew wild at the violence, howling, pulling their hair. The ones who'd been eyeing the main exit scuttled back.
Shush the humans, easy enough. She sauntered to the guard and stepped up onto his back, opening her arms wide. "Gather round, mad human persons. Gather! And I, a sorceress of dark and terrible powers, will reward you with a story."