The mill disappeared behind him.
He walked west through streets that were empty and cold, the sodium lights buzzing overhead, the sea wind cutting through his ruined jacket. His hands were steady. His breathing was even. The Hound was quiet behind his sternum, settled into the watchful stillness it wore after combat, and the city hummed around him with the same low frequency it had hummed since he'd come back.
He'd killed three people.
The thought surfaced without drama. The same way thoughts surfaced in the source world, when he'd catalogued a new creature or filed a new danger under things to avoid. Precise. Detached. The duelist had died with his rapier still crackling on the floor. Harkan Vell had died trying to rise. Lisen Vaal had died before she could finish her next spell. Three
