"What happened?"
After collapsing in the street, Shahin had slept for an entire twenty-four hours. When he woke up, he found himself lying in a room that resembled a poorly maintained inn in the Golden Quarter.
His midsection was tightly bandaged, and the pain from his injury reminded him of his fight with his treacherous brother—a battle whose outcome he still did not fully understand. Milo, the little cat, was curled up asleep at his feet.
Nearby, Averkane sat precariously on two chairs, staring pensively out the window at the bustling activity of their new neighborhood. When he noticed Shahin had regained consciousness, he turned and smiled warmly, the sunlight catching in the bristles of his beard.
"Well rested? I've been sitting here for a full day watching over you. That fight with your brother must have taken everything out of you."
