Chapter Twenty-Seven
Person of Interest
Paige paced the width of the small apartment belonging to the woman named Arya. The floorboards creaked beneath her dwarven boots. The apartment was only a single room containing a pallet, washbasin, and rickety table. The current tenant was tied up in the only chair. The crude lock on the door had been no match for Paige’s skills. She had caught the flower girl in the midst of packing her things. It had been easy enough to knock her out from behind. The flat of Paige’s ax had given her all the reach she needed.
The apartment had been ransacked. Paige had gone through every item in the room, including Arya’s pack. The only thing close to a talisman that might bind one of the Unborn was a simple, starsilver chain with a tiny sun charm she had found
