A prospect that, strangely enough, felt considerably more dangerous than anything waiting for him on the trip ahead.
------
Silver Ridge City Market
11:20 AM
For the first time in days Maya almost felt normal. The market was a river of sound and movement: stalls spilling cloth and spice, vendors shouting friendly bargains, children weaving between legs. Pack members jostled past with baskets and bundles; the air smelled of frying bread and lemon oil. Luna walked beside her, indulgently competitive, flanked by two guards who kept a polite distance. Two servants trailed behind, arms laden with parcels. Apparently Luna planned to outfit half the city before sunset.
"Mama."
"Hm?"
"We already bought three dresses."
"Four."
Luna's face registered no shame. Maya let a soft laugh—one of the first genuine ones she'd managed all week—slip out and then stilled when the small bell above a boutique door chimed as they entered.
The room fell oddly quiet.
