Takes one to know one, thought Everson.
The creature appeared to be approaching, sailing lazily over the rooftops and quiet streets. Briefly, the soldier made a mental note of the lack of foot traffic after dark, and he wondered if there were some sort of curfew imposed because of the war. He strained to see if this birdun had a white crown of fur atop his head, but a knock at his door diverted his attention.
The baron’s giant Leftist butler timidly pushed open the door and peeked inside. After a nod from the Indiran, he entered with a basin of water and a lush hand towel. Everson glanced at the bed between him and the Leftist. His satchel rested there, his money and the Tinderbox hidden inside, and he resisted the temptation to snatch it up. Instead, he crossed to the small table where
