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A few hours later…
Night had fully covered Slik City when Sekhmet stood on a high tower in the middle of the city and looked out over the lower districts.
The wind was colder there. It moved across the tower stones in long slow currents and carried the smells of the city upward. Smoke. Oil. Cookfire. River damp. Faraway blood. Faraway fear. It was a different city at night. During the day, people lied with open faces and busy hands. At night, they lied by closing doors too fast, by lowering lamps too early, and by pretending they had not heard the wrong kind of screaming from the next street over.
The twins stood behind him by half a step.
