He arrived on a Tuesday morning, and he didn't look like anything.
Alistair was at the settlement's central market buying supplies. The routine had become necessary, as Elara handled most of the logistics; however, some transactions still required the presence of someone whose Thorne hair made merchants more willing to negotiate.
It was a stupid advantage, and Alistair had stopped refusing stupid advantages months ago.
He was examining dried fish at a stall when his Equalizer's scan returned something unusual.
A reading at the market's far edge, not strong, not weak, just quiet. The scan couldn't properly categorize it, and the miscalibrated right side made the return even less useful than usual.
Whatever Alistair was looking at, it wasn't suppressed; it was simply the kind of presence that doesn't announce itself because it doesn't need to.
Alistair looked up.
A man stood across the market, of medium height, wearing a light traveling coat of pale grey worn at the edges.
