The keep's outer courtyard had been trampled flat by courier traffic, and the early afternoon light lay thin across it.
Black Fang was already there.
She held the courtyard's far edge with her arms crossed, on post. Nobody had assigned her anywhere, and nobody mentioned that, either.
Ayame's grin made it halfway toward a comment, met the violet head-on, and elected to live.
"The capital, then," said Quinlan.
The war of paper waited there, and somewhere behind it, a king holding him to a promise.
He raised his hand, and the [Warp Gate] bloomed in the middle of the courtyard, tall and patient, the air of another city rolling through it.
Black Fang left her post and walked through first, ahead of both of them, offering no explanation to anyone.
Quinlan and Ayame traded a look over the space where she had been. Neither said one word. Some lessons only need learning once a day.
