A few days later…
I found myself once again at the Leaky Tavern, slumped over a weathered wooden table in the corner.
My investigation had hit a frustrating wall. The warehouse lead had turned up nothing but empty crates and dust—whoever had been using it as a storage facility had cleared out long before we arrived.
Mel and Fletra had been diligently following other leads throughout the city, but so far, we'd come up empty-handed.
That was what I would've said if I didn't know, of course.
But right now the tavern was quieter than usual this afternoon. Most of the regular patrons were likely still recovering from their previous night's excesses.
And when I look back to the newly repaired wall—a surprisingly professional job considering how recently Balthazar had been launched through it.
The tavern owner had apparently spared no expense with the silver I'd provided.
"The usual, sir?"
The silver-haired waitress approached my table, a small notepad in hand.
