23
Leaving the con suite felt like surfacing from the mythic Ocean of Noise to finally gasp a desperate breath of quiet.
Escaping the constant babble of the people gathered around the food instantly eased the rattling pressure in Dale’s head. The part of his brain responsible for assembling all those disparate sounds into words relaxed. He’d carried that burden for long enough that he’d forgotten its weight, giving him unexpected pleasure when it fell away. Plus, the temperature dropped at least five degrees just three steps from the door, cooling Dale’s face.
People bound for the con suite streamed past Dale as he followed Tamora across the Willow Tree Inn’s immaculately decorated lobby.
Both clerks at the reception counter glanced around at the scattered congoers. They looked stunned
