“Yeah.” Miriam nodded. “Look, give me fifteen minutes to recover and I’ll get my coat. Then we can go look over that building, and if it’s right we’ll go straight on to the bank and move another whack of cash so you can wave a deposit under their nose.” She straightened up. “We’ll take Brill. There’s a theatrical costume shop we need to check out; it might speed things up a bit.” Her expression hardened. “I’m tired of waiting, and the longer this drags on the harder it’ll be to explain it to Angbard. If I don’t get in touch soon, I figure he’ll cut off my credit until I surface. It’s time to hit the road.”

Two days later, a frigid morning found Miriam dozing fitfully on a lumpy, misshapen mattress with a quietly snoring lump to her left. She opened her eyes. Where am I? she wondered for a moment, then memory rescued the day. Oh. A pile of canvas bags before her nose formed a hump up against the rough, unpainted planks of the wall. The snoring lump twitched, pushing her closer to the edge. The light streamed in through a small window, its triangular tiles of glass uneven and bubbled. She’d slept fully dressed except for her boots and cloak, and she felt filthy. To make matters worse, something had bitten her in the night, found her to its taste, and invited its family and friends along for Thanksgiving.

“Aargh.” She sat up and swung her feet out, onto the floor. Even through her wool stockings the boards felt cold as ice. The jug under the bed was freezing cold too, she discovered as she squatted over it to piss. In fact, the air was so chilly it leached all the heat out of any part of her anatomy she exposed to it. She finished her business fast and shoved the pot back under the bed to freeze.

“Wake up,” she called softly to Brilliana. “Rise and shine! We’ve got a good day ahead!”

“Oh, my head.” Brill surfaced bleary-eyed and disheveled from under the quilt. “Your hostelries aren’t like this.”

“Well, this one won’t stay like this for long if I get my way,” Miriam commented. “My mouth tastes like something died in it. Let me get my boots on and warm my toes up a bit.”

“Hah.” Brilliana’s expression was pessimistic. “They let the fire run low, I’d say.” She found the chamber pot. Miriam nodded and looked away. So much for en suite bathrooms, she thought mordantly. “You stand up, now,” Brill ordered after a minute.

“Okay. How do I look?” asked Miriam.