I noticed the entity at table four had its fog extended toward Torvel.
About halfway. It just hung there. Not retreating. Not advancing either. The fog sat in the air like it had already answered and was waiting for the question to catch up.
Torvel looked at the fog. Then at the entity.
"What form of currency do you hold?" he said.
The entity's shape wavered a little at the collar and shoulders. The clothes stayed put. Whatever was inside them seemed to briefly disagree with itself about how to be inside them.
The fog extended another inch.
That was still the answer.
I was at the counter checking the cauldron level. The early batch had been running since dawn, and I hadn't checked the reduction since before the fares. I heard Torvel mention currency, which reminded me of a supplier I used to deal with. He had very strong opinions about barter. Theoretical ones, mostly.
