They stepped into the corridor and closed the door behind them. The latch clicked softly. The room they had slept in was left exactly as it was meant to be—used, then released.
The hallway was quiet but no longer empty. A door farther down opened as they passed, someone stepping out and heading toward the stairs. No one paid them much attention. They were just more travelers starting their day.
They went down the stairs at an easy pace. The wayhouse was awake now. A few tables were already occupied. Someone was eating, another talking in a low voice. The smell of fresh food was stronger than the night before.
Rhys paused near the bottom of the stairs and looked around once, not searching for anything specific. Caria stopped beside him. Puddle stayed close, its form compact, moving easily between chairs and posts.
They went to the counter. The keeper was there again, ledger open, pen in hand.
"Morning," he said.
"Morning," Rhys replied.
