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It was a measure of Damian’s priorities that Jullanar had learned the word for a meeting of waters well before she had found out that Kistaron, Greenmarket, was the name of both the square in front of the Inn and also the neighbourhood in which they lived.
Damian looked up, expecting a large bird, and was deeply, utterly, completely flabbergasted when a person fell out of the sky and landed on them.
They eventually found the poet by following a trail of astonished people and aggravated livestock.
“I thank you for your hospitality, and swear that so long as I am a guest under your roof your family will be as my family, your foes as my foes, your friends as my friends.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE IN WHICH SEVERAL THINGS HAPPEN
No. Shit.
