The vendor suddenly glanced past Chloe’s shoulder and sealed his lips. Turning his back to them, he began to busy himself around his stall.

Turning around, Chloe saw a group of four warriors moving down the avenue, heading in the direction of the harbor. Their skin was far paler than the locals, and two had thick beards. But strangest of all, they wore armor of metal links. She remembered the painting Dion had shown her. Dragons . . . Armored soldiers . . . Already she was thinking they’d come to the right place. The warriors paid no attention to the locals, and the city folk looked away, pretending not to see them as they strode down the street.

Chloe waited until they’d passed and then led Liana away from the market. Lifting a necklace, she faced her friend and hesitated.

‘Do it,’ Liana said. ‘I can’t put it on myself, and I won’t be able to change. But I can bear it.’

Liana lowered her neck and Chloe fastened the necklace around the eldran’s throat. She then gathered her own long, dark hair at the back, before clasping the second copper necklace around her neck.

Feeling out of her depth, but knowing that Dion and Isobel both needed her, she lifted the medallion. She gripped the symbol of Aeris tightly.

‘Come on,’ she said to Liana. ‘Let’s find somewhere to spend the night.’

Finally, as they approached the denser heart of the city, Chloe and Liana began to see the symbols of beds carved on wooden boards above doorways.

‘I don’t like this place,’ Liana said.

‘Nor do I,’ said Chloe. ‘But it will take us time to get our bearings. If they’re in this city, someone will know.’

She chose a guesthouse with a better-maintained sign and cleaner doorstep than some of the others. Peeling the curtained doorway to the side, she entered the dark interior, Liana following close behind.

The interior was larger than she’d expected. She looked around, seeing a rectangular room with half a dozen stools surrounding a carpet. Stairs at the back most likely led up to the guest rooms. Catching movement through a doorway, she saw a fat, olive-skinned woman, her body wrapped in a voluminous chiton pinned in several places.

‘Hello?’ Chloe called out.

At the sound of Chloe’s voice, the middle-aged woman entered, smiling and setting down the basket of linen in her arms. She had a friendly expression and several wobbling chins, and wore her hair pulled tightly back from her forehead, tied in a bun.

‘We’re looking for a room.’

‘Of course, please, sit, sit.’ The plump woman indicated a pair of stools. ‘Can I get you tea?’ Without waiting for answer, she called over her shoulder. ‘Goran! Bring tea!’

‘Coming!’ a male voice called back.

‘So.’ She clapped her hands together. ‘Two rooms?’

‘Just one room,’ Chloe said. ‘With two beds.’

‘For how long?’