Everything on the coast looked and smelled different. The stones were an unfamiliar color, from the cobbled streets to the buildings themselves. The roofs were of reddish clay tiles, the bricks, mortar, and rocks all shades of beiges and custard. Some homes that clung to the cliffs seemed to be entirely white, as if the foam from the sea had splashed upward and frozen in time, creating houses and structures for the coastal residents. The fishy scent of salt and brine followed them wherever they went, accompanied by the pungency unique to large, packed cities. She had never smelled the overcrowding of people before she’d entered Yelagin, but compounded with the ocean and its odors, her senses were overwhelmed.

Cityfolk shuttered their windows like common, superstitious villagers as the three rode by. Perhaps it had less to do with their appearance and more to do with the weapons that were strapped to every space on their bodies. Each reever was equipped with sheathed swords, daggers, and wrapped with a bow across their chest. Amaris, accompanied by her ever-visible scarring, knew she looked like a living testament to their willingness to put those blades to use.

Nothing about Priory was particularly welcoming.

The roads were narrower within the city than she liked. Most of the villages she’d entered had large, grassy areas between homes, or the cobbled streets meant for wagons and markets. Unlike the farmyards and set-apart homes of country villages, these town houses melted into one another with alleys that allowed an intersecting pedestrian to get entirely too near before they were spotted. Everyone seemed to be on foot as they scuttled about Priory, few carriages, horses, or carts gracing the roads. Fishermen and salesmen would push past the three with things like flat-bed crates of dead fish yet act as if the reevers were the unpleasant sight rather than their stinky, scaled corpses of dead things. The feeling of discomfort pressed down on her.

“What exactly is our plan?” Ash hissed. He kept his voice low, knowing that even if the citizens had closed their windows and slammed their doors, they’d remained pressed to the frames as any good gossip might.

Amaris was unmoved. “I’ve told you several times.”

“We’ve had weeks to come up with a better plan than ‘wing it.’”

“Why am I the only one responsible for planning! Though I am flattered that you assume I’m the only one of us with a working mind.”

Malik didn’t appear overly bothered, nor did he attempt to speak in hushed tones like the other two. He even deigned to wave at a woman as she scurried past them. She began to lift a hand to return the friendly gesture to the handsome young man but thought better of it. “Not that you’ve asked, but my plan is to get through the walls into Aubade and then find us something to eat.”