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Augustus’ face started showing up on coin.” The older man half smiled. “Quintus, they’ll be no trouble.”
    Quintus frowned. “How can you say that?”
    The old man tapped his nose. “They don’t have the stink of the pack on ‘em, and there ain’t but one Vorquelf working for Chytrine and this one ain’t her.”
    “There’s trouble, it’s on your head.”
    The man rubbed a rough hand back over his bald pate. “Least then there’d be something on it.”
    Quintus snorted a laugh, then jerked a thumb toward the heart of town. “Hare and Hutch is our inn; they have a stable. Other travelers in, so might be the stable is full. Tell the boy to take the other horses to my barn. Be gone in the morning, will you?”
    Crow nodded. “With the sunrise.”
    “Then I’ll see you going out as I go in.” He gave them a nod. “The peace of Stellin be on ya, and a plague on your souls if you break it.”
    Will wasn’t quite certain why Resolute didn’t demand he accompany the stableboy to take care of their horses, but he welcomed the relief from his chores. He grabbed his rolled blanket and the flaccid saddlebags that carried his threadbare change of clothes, then followed the other two into the Hare and Hutch.After so long on the road, back to normal will be good.
    But the village tavern, he discovered upon entry, escaped normal by leagues. It certainly had the look of a normal tavern, with entry through a sheltered door, then steps down into the common room. One short wall of the rectangular building stood close by on the right, with a set of stairs marking the far right corner and leading up to the next floor. Huddled beneath the stairs lay the bar, and a doorway through the long wall led out to the kitchen at the back. It had a roof and a hearth, half walls and a dirt floor. The common room opened to the left, with a big hearth and roaring fire on the left wall. Benches took up those corners, with some long tables and other round ones filling the main space. Will could feel the fire’s heat from the doorway and welcomed it, though the fire did seem a bit big for a summer’s evening.
    Resolute hung his cloak on the pegs by the door, dropped his bag beneath it, then relieved Crow of his burdens and likewise disposed of them. The low hum of conversation dipped for a moment, then picked up with some intensity. Will felt himself tensing, for in the Dim, the Vorquelf’s showing himself in a human haunt would have caused an immediate fight.
    The added energy drained quickly from the conversation, but Will didn’t get a sense of fear holding the people at bay. As he tried to figure out what was at work, he began to notice other things, such as the floor being clean and well kept, with new boards laid down to replace old and rotted ones. As for the barkeeper, his clothes had clearly been laundered—and recently. The clientele didn’t seem drunk, and he heard no catcalls as a young woman wove her way between tables to deliver wooden tankards of frothy ale.
    He finally hit upon it. The people were smiling, none of them hooding their eyes or watching their fellows for weakness. The taverns he’d known were wolves‘-dens.Here they’re sheep. Farmers, herders, working for a living, taking time here to share stories. It sent a shiver down his spine.
    Crow, leaning his right flank against the bar, waved his left hand toward Resolute and Will. “We were told, my companion, nephew, and I, that you might have room available here for a night’s lodging.”
    The tavernkeeper, a burly man with a ring of black hair running round his head, ran a hand over unshaved jowls. “Well, the last room, it was taken by that gentleman and his niece, but they’ve not paid as yet…. Oy, you.” He flicked a stained dishrag toward two people seated at a round table.
    An older man turned toward the bar, raising an eyebrow, but Crow reached out and took hold of the barman’s wrist. “That’s all right. You’d be having space on the floor here, near the fire?”
    The barman nodded.