The restroom had no surveillance magic.
I'd checked before stepping out of the stable teleportation—pressing Lingering Demonic Essence against each wall surface in a passive thread as the arrival settled, mapping for circle arrays, appraisal nodes, anything that would register my signature and file a report somewhere.
Blank stone, old grout, the sharp floral smell of something aggressively masking the odor underneath it, the way cheap perfume works harder the more it has to hide.
After ensuring that there was not a single enchantment, I smoothed my skirt, tucked a loose strand of hair back from my cheek, and let the Essence thread dissolve.
"That was a clean arrival, which was a good start."
The gambling floor opened past the restroom corridor in layered sections, each one with its own temperature and noise signature, the way bodies and eidolon shards and sustained Demonic Essence all produced different heat.
