Jin stood in the middle of the courtyard and listened.
There was nothing to hear. No voices. No footsteps. No clatter of dishes or murmur of conversation from the low wooden buildings around him. The wind had died down outside the walls, and in here, it was so still that he could hear the faint drip of water somewhere in the little garden in the corner.
He waited a long moment. Then he started walking.
He went slowly, his hand resting on the hilt of the sword at his hip, his eyes moving the way this body's eyes always moved. Doorways. Rooftops. Shadows under the eaves. The pale stones of the courtyard were swept so clean that his sandals made no sound at all as he crossed them.
