Dejected and nigh-penniless, the team sneaks out on their bill. They find that it’s rather easy to do when not lugging crates along. Cang finds that, despite the hassle, he misses them — but he misses the value they represented much more.
“We must find that witch,” he says.
Abia glares at him. He throws it right back. “I did not join this band of merry marauders to give my meagre wealth away to some charlatan. As a charlatan myself, I deserve at least as much!”
“Keep your voices down,” Shyan says.
Fassn throws a glance toward the inn. “We should keep moving,” he says.
He scarcely gets the words out before the door’s thrown open and an angry innkeeper wielding a cleaver emerges into the night, his face contorted with rage.