They found the market without looking for it.
The road from the Guild's side yard led them back through the main street, and the main street, heading away from the gate district, opened into a wide square that Bruce had not seen on the way in. The square was full of stalls and shops, the kind of organized chaos that every working city produced around the place where hunters came back with money and immediately needed to spend it.
Souls moved through the stalls in every direction. The noise was good noise, the noise of commerce, of people arguing prices and finding things they wanted and calling out to passing customers. Lanterns hung between the stalls on lines of pale soul-light, warming everything below them in soft gold. The smells were layered, cooked meat from the food stalls, something sharp and mineral from what looked like a tools section, the faint green freshness of cut soul-herbs somewhere to the left.
