40

The market was a good place to start, but it hasn’t lived up to its promise.

“I don’t think we’re making much progress,” you say. You’re expecting a snarky comment from Tarquin, who specializes in them, but he seems to understand that you’re not feeling great about the lack of success so far.

“Why don’t we go somewhere different?” Ashur suggests, not unkindly.

“Someplace less crowded would be good,” Tarquin agrees. “I could do with a break from all the elbows in the face.”

You know what he means. The market crowds aren’t unfriendly, but large groups of people always move like some kind of living thing, unaware of their limbs and bags and the staff that some unwary mage has just jammed into your ribs on their way past, leaving what you’re sure will become a less-than-pleasant bruise.

“There’s no point being here if we’re not getting anywhere,” you say. “Let’s head out.”