A room toward the back of the second floor of the Flipping Trout Inn.
The lamplight cast swaying shadows on the walls, stretching the figures in the room long and short.
Kane sat in a hardwood chair by the window, leaning back slightly. The chair's front legs were off the ground, balanced precariously on its back legs.
An ordinary-looking dagger spun between his fingers, its blade reflecting the dancing lamplight.
He was waiting for Fletcher to return.
That troublesome captain had gone to dinner with Galen, the young mage from Rose Town who claimed to be a student of the Archmage.
"Archmage..." Kane silently repeated the word.
Just then, familiar footsteps sounded outside the door. Fletcher.
The footsteps paused at the door, followed by the faint sound of a key sliding into the lock.
"Click."
The door opened softly.
Fletcher slipped inside sideways like an eel and closed the door behind him.
His furtive movements were completely unlike his usual style, when he'd rather kick the door in and make a grand entrance.
The dagger stopped spinning in Kane's hand. The chair's front legs settled back onto the floor with a faint thud.
He raised his eyes and looked calmly toward the door.
Fletcher's face held none of the excitement Kane had expected. Instead, he looked lost in thought.
He didn't even notice Kane watching him at first. He simply frowned and quietly shut the door behind him.
"You're back?"
"Ah... Kane?" Fletcher seemed to snap out of his thoughts and looked toward the window. "You're still up?"
"Yeah." Kane's gaze swept over his face. "How was dinner? Did Mister Galen offer you any... useful advice?"
Fletcher went over and sat on his bed. He didn't immediately launch into his usual descriptions of how hot some serving girl was.
He