I picked it up with both hands and immediately felt the weight drag on my arms. The crate was made of rough wood, reinforced at the corners with thin metal strips, and inside it sat ten glass bottles packed tightly together with cloth stuffed between them to keep them from clinking. Each bottle was filled with a faint pink liquid that caught the light in a strange way, almost like it shimmered when I tilted it.
"Alright," Ken said, already turning toward the door. "Come on. I know where the place is."
I gave the counter one last look, then followed him outside.
The moment we stepped out, the rain hit harder than before. It wasn't just a drizzle anymore. Thin streams of water slid off rooftops, and the stone street had already turned slick and reflective under the lantern light.
Ken pulled his hood up and glanced at the sky. I adjusted my grip on the crate and opened the map for a second. The location was already marked. We were close.
