Serenna slowed near the end of the market.
Teclos caught up beside her.
The borrowed face had settled perfectly. Gray-streaked hair, a wider jaw, tired eyes, and the same worn brown coat she had used in the tavern. Nothing about her suggested the woman who had stood beneath the moon with blood-red eyes and enough killing intent to silence an entire street.
A vegetable seller waved a bundle of onions at them.
Neither stopped.
"What now?" Teclos asked.
Serenna glanced toward him. "You repaired the amulet. Our agreement is finished."
"You still owe me one answer."
"I remember."
"That wasn't my question."
She looked ahead again.
The crowd split around a wagon carrying sacks of flour. Teclos moved closer to avoid its wheel. Serenna did the same, and for several steps their shoulders nearly touched.
"I need a room," she said.
"There's a hunting lodge outside the walls."
"I said a room."
"You didn't like the lodge?"
