Chapter 22
They carried the sacks of vegetables on their heads, in the way of market sellers. Isika felt herself sway with exhaustion as they walked down the alley, spotting the door the woman had described.
"Can you tell if one of the guards is friendly?" she asked her brother in a whisper.
He frowned at the four guards, concentrating.
"None of them are friendly," he said, after a moment. "But that one is the least angry." He used his chin to gesture at a man who was as thick and tall as a tree, with enormous hands and a huge brown beard. His eyes were like pieces of coal in his pale face.
Isika took a shaky breath. "Are you sure?" she asked. He was the last guard she would have picked.
"As sure as I can be, trying to gauge people by the music only I can hear," he said dryly, and sh
