“This really is foolishness,” said Caliban in an undertone behind her. “The warden should have given you guards—an escort—something. Letting a woman walk out of here with a murderer—I’d have his skin if he were serving under me.” He sounded genuinely outraged. Slate had to laugh. “Relax, mister murderer, you’re not getting off that lightly.” She turned her head as she spoke, in time to catch his grimace. “Sorry. Sir Murderer, should I say?”
