The docks were deserted. It was early morning, and a dense fog was lit by the gas street lanterns.
The sailors slept on their ships, or in the many inns and taverns in the city.
The only sounds were the gentle lapping waves against the quayside.
Rowan and I walked the docks, looking for something. Thomas had been rather vague when he asked us to meet one of his agents.
I asked why we couldn't meet them during the day, and all the Spymaster said was, "you'll find out when you meet her."
So Rowan and I walked the docks, the scent of seaspray and gentle early summer rains pressing themselves against the senses.
Rowan stopped, and held up his hand. Thumb down, index, middle and pinky extended.
We're not alone.
I nodded. I'd sensed our tail a few minutes before. Whoever it was that was following us was good. Very good, if it took this long for Rowan to notice them.
- It's closing in. Ilargia whispered from his holster behind me. Can't be more than two hundred feet away.
