Kutur didn't remember offering his hand to Kali, but the next thing he knew, he was being dragged through the winding streets, through alleys and backroads he had never seen before. No matter how hard he tried, he still couldn't shake his worrying about the contents of his pack. It felt wrong to be contemplating work when he should be anticipating leisure, but that was just the way he was. Illumination was a time-consuming process. Imbuing the paper with magic took strong focus and long hours of thinking, but he had nobody to assist him. Who on the whole city knew the Red Discipline of Bythesea like he did? Who in the whole city even knew magic like he did?

Still, he allowed himself to marvel at the little surprise Kali showed him. True, it was unlike a glamorous restaurant like those that littered the street corners in all the Bythesea cities. True, it was also unlike the more humble eating shacks that seemed so popular with the commoner dracons. However, Xigyll finally had one of . . . whatever it is . . . of its very own. "Erm . . . I don't have any coin on me," Kutur said, sheepishly remembering. He had dropped everything when his master came to retrieve him, and hadn't had a chance to go back for his gold. The Constantsea bag wasn't even his, it being a gift from Exarch Rokkar to all of the magisters. What was he supposed to do for this . . . place?