Kai and Kleo kept their heads down as they moved through the busy streets of the Citadel. Kai's illusion held steady with his black hair, brown eyes, and square jaw that made him look older and rougher than his true age.
Still, every time they passed a patrol of city guards in gleaming bronze and navy blue, Kai felt a prickle of tension beneath his skin.
"Don't look at them," he murmured under his breath as they passed a pair of guards chatting near a weaponsmith. "Just walk."
Kleo adjusted the hood of her cloak and nodded silently. Her eyes flicked toward the guards, then away just as quickly.
They kept walking.
They stopped first at a tucked-away store near the edge of the market district. The wooden sign read Tavric's Tackle & Trek in peeling paint, and inside they found an aging man with clouded eyes who gave them little trouble and asked fewer questions.
Piton spikes. Rope. Flint. Metal attachments for boots. A small collapsible shovel.
