Mercer didn't visit Wren's tannery office the next morning. He didn't send a runner, either, not knowing which faces in the trade district reported back to Hale for coin or fear. Instead, he waited until evening and went to the one place he knew Wren visited every week without fail, a small tavern near the docks where the two of them used to drink together before any of this began.
He arrived early and took a table in the back corner, ordering a drink he didn't intend to finish. Wren showed up an hour later, exactly as expected, and froze in the doorway when he spotted Mercer waiting.
For a moment, Wren didn't move. Then he crossed the room slowly and sat down across from him, glancing around the half-empty tavern before speaking.
"This is either a coincidence," Wren said quietly, "or y
