still possible someone could recognize you if you draw too much attention to us.” “To you, you mean. Because you don’t want to be connected to me in any way. And you glamoured yourself in the village, which means you’re afraid someone will recognize you. Someone you were acquainted with back when you knew Perindal. Lord Brixeus, maybe?” The Sea Witch’s jaw clenches, and his irises began to leak inky purple-blue across the whites of his eyes again. I watch the effect, fascinated. “You,” he grits out, “are entirely too clever for your own good.” “Thank you.” “Not a compliment.” “Isn’t it,
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