Sleep came fitfully for Viana, her dreams tangled with images of chained captives and Arin's shadowed face.
She sat up, her heart was racing, and saw Joel silhouetted against the window, his runed dagger glinting as he turned it idly in his hands. The room was dim, the candle long extinguished, but the faint light of late morning seeped through the shutters.
"Couldn't sleep?" she asked, her voice soft to avoid startling him.
Joel glanced over, his expression unreadable. "Not with Kess's game looking. And..."
He hesitated, then lowered his voice. "I keep thinking about what Ren said. Slavers, Viana. If we're wrong about him, or if Kess suspects us, we're not just risking our lives. We're risking theirs."
Viana rose, wrapping her cloak around her shoulders as she joined him by the window. The port town sprawled below, its docks bustling with sailors unloading crates under the watchful eyes of armored guards.
