Sabine raised the hood of her cloak as she left the tavern. Even with the glamour she wore, her features were too recognizable. Under normal circumstances, she would have shifted her appearance slightly. She’d used too much magic to bring Dax back to himself after she’d stabbed him. Until her magic naturally replenished itself, she needed to conserve her strength. If someone were hunting her, she couldn’t afford to make any more mistakes. Some of the Fae or those who were part of the Wild Hunt had ways of dispelling a secondary glamour. It had taken her years to develop and strengthen her current mask so it wouldn’t fracture using any of their usual tricks.
The moon shone brightly overhead, illuminating the streets better than the lanterns hanging along the path. Her boots crunched on the
