The afternoon dragged on in tense silence.
Gilbert watched the street through shuttered windows. Ennu inventoried their supplies twice, needing something to do with her hands. Adan stood by the other window tracking movement below.
Tess paced back and forth, her boots wearing a path in the dust. Every few minutes, her eyes would drift to Gabriel's unconscious form before she forced herself to look away.
Mera sat near the table, close enough to reach Gabriel if needed, far enough to maintain the illusion that she wasn't watching him constantly.
The door opened without warning.
Everyone's hands went to weapons before they registered Melissa's face. She slipped inside quickly, bolting the door behind her.
"It's arranged," she said, her voice still hoarse. "There will be carts ready at the southern docks after sundown. They're smuggling grain to Fulhir, or that's what the manifests will say."
"Fulhir?" Tess stopped pacing. "That's weeks south."
