The kid leaned forward. The decoration on his outfit looked like the sort done with a stencil and a spray bottle filled with bleach, strategically bleaching fabric. Snakes and a woman’s face as a recurring motif. He had a bandanna over the top of his head and one over his nose and mouth. “What do you deal?”

“Grass, mostly,” Prancer said.

“You actually have some?”

“Not here, but we have it. Brand new and in high demand, given the times,” Prancer said.

“Are you looking for resellers?”

“For the right price. Mostly we’re looking for new friends, and we’re trying to get the lay of the land before we do anything too enterprising.”

“Can I get back to you?” the guy asked.

“You’re welcome to,” Prancer said. “We wouldn’t mind company either, if you guys wanted to join us.”

“I’d have to get back to you on that too,” the guy said. “We’re trying to find our way these days. We agreed in the beginning we wouldn’t have one leader, and that was great then, but right now we’ve got two different leadership styles butting heads.”

Prancer looked over at the table, where those seated were having a very fierce, hushed discussion.

“If you want to just sit and trade stories, we’d be happy to have you,” Prancer said. “Get away from all that, maybe come away with some fresh perspective.”

“I might take you up on that. For now I’d better get back and make sure nobody reaches across the table to strangle someone.”

“Question before you go,” Moose said. “Is it always this quiet?”

“It’s about to get noisier,” Gorgos said. “Keep an eye on the guy at the end of the kitchen there. He communicates with people in town. He was talking to the boss about something and the boss put another cook on the stove. Wait ten minutes and I bet he’ll hit the button to open the gate. If he holds it down it’s a lot of people. My guess is the ferry from NYC hit the shore near the G–N portal twenty minutes ago.”

“Good to know, thanks,” Prancer said.

Gorgos jogged back to his team.

“You’re dwellin’ a lot on going upstairs,” Moose observed.

“Reminds me of being a kid and being told I had to stay downstairs with my cousins and their friends during the holidays. My cousins were assholes,” Velvet said. “One good thing about Gold Morning is it took them out of the picture.”

Moose whistled.

“She’s wearing the purple cloak, that’s a sign of royalty, don’t you know?” Prancer plucked at Velvet’s hood. Velvet batted his hand away. “And royalty doesn’t not go upstairs. Royalty doesn’t show mercy.”

“Y’know I went to prison because of you, Prance,” she said, quiet.