Two Meetings

In an apartment on Grey Rock Street in the East Borough, Shermane changed out of the clothes and cloak she had worn during her crime. First, she scorched them with Black Flame to erase any mystical traces she might have left behind. Then she tossed them into the cramped fireplace, lit a fire, and watched the gray smoke drift upward and disappear above the window.

Compared with six months ago, Backlund's air quality had improved considerably. Adding fresh pollution made Shermane feel a twinge of guilt—though only a tiny one.

She changed into the dress she had prepared here earlier and put on a hooded cloak that could conceal her long hair and half her face. After gathering her belongings, she was ready to leave this temporary hideout.

As she passed a mirror riddled with cracks, Shermane stopped, her gaze lingering on the face reflected in it.

The feminine face she had once dreamed of, and now possessed so easily, carried a trace of melancholy.

After spending so much time with Miss Triss, I seem to have caught her mood... Shaking her head, Shermane took one last look at herself in the mirror, turned off the gas lamp, and hurried out of the apartment.

Following Grey Rock Street's narrow road between cramped buildings, she reached White Whale Street, which was crowded with factories and warehouses. She headed straight toward a factory with carriages coming and going.

As she passed through the gate, she looked up. The brand-new sign read "Black Bear Cannery" and bore a black bear paw with only four digits. Once the emblem of the Black Claw Gang, it had now become the trademark of canned fruit sold throughout Backlund.

Entering the noisy factory grounds, Shermane watched crates of glass jars being loaded onto carriages. Their bright colors