The gang pockets the necklace, and Shyan gives the bartender a nod of thanks. They make their way to the tavern’s bowels, where lanterns gutter and the head’s stench occasionally wafts by. They take their places and watch the musicians. When another tavern-goer tries to appropriate an empty chair, Shyan puts her boots upon it meaningfully and the fellow scampers off.
The musicians play and dance through another few tunes, then to a round of drunken applause, leave their improvised stage. The drummer makes for the bar, while the flutist joins the gang at their table. Shyan respectfully withdraws her boots. When the drummer returns bearing two mugs of ale, the musicians sit. The flutist asks, “You selling?”
