It takes a moment, but Kendra seems to recover from whatever fugue held her. "They would not find us," she says. "Such rough and criminal sorts have no place among us. Muyal would not permit them to enter." She stands up from the table around which the four of you sit. "Basileios," she continues. "I'm sure you have much that you wish to attend to. Please treat this island as your home while you are here."
As Kendra departs, you glance out through one of the shuttered windows at the darkening sky outside. The evening is drawing in, but the day's not done yet.