The last light of dusk painted the western sky in deep oranges and purples as Lyan and Erich left the main trade road. They dismounted in a small grove of trees just outside the city walls. The horses snorted softly, tired from the long ride. Lyan patted his mount's neck and tied the reins to a low branch.
"We go the rest of the way on foot," Lyan said quietly. "Too many eyes on the main gates."
Erich nodded. He looked steadier than he had on the mountain, but his shoulders still carried some weight. "Lead the way, then. I trust your… back-alley expertise."
Lyan gave a small grin. "You say that like it's an insult."
