Sylvie going off alone with Rune, took an instinctive step to follow before glancing back at Siobhan and Denney. Then he stopped dead, clearly torn between which group he should be protecting.
True, leaving Denney alone outside the shop with Siobhan was likely not a good choice. They were still in Wynngaard, after all. To make it easier on her enforcer, Siobhan stuck her head into the store and called to Conli, “We’ll be at the clothing store on the corner!”
“Fine!” Conli called back from some dingy recess in the back.
He likely wouldn’t miss them for a good hour anyway, not with that shopping list of supplies.
That sorted, she led the other two and caught up with Sylvie and Rune just as they entered the clothing store. In terms of lighting and such, this store was in much better condition. It contained every variety of clothing imaginable crammed inside, with shirts and pants in a wide range of sizes hung up on nails all the way to the ceiling. Dresses, skirts, and traditional women’s clothing were in the back of the store, while men’s clothing took up the front.
Siobhan belatedly realized that quite a bit of gear had been lost or damaged in Lirah’s party during their mad escape from the assassins who’d attacked them. She’d been so focused on getting them to a safe place that she hadn’t really thought about that until just now. “Denney, help me pick out some shirts and pants that might fit our Blackstone group,” she requested. “I don’t think they have much left after everything that happened.”
“Oh!” Denney said, snapping her fingers. “That’s a good thought. I’m not sure of everyone’s sizes, though.”
“They’ll need looser clothing to cover the bandages and splints anyway,” Sylvie called over her shoulder, already arm-deep in a stack of shirts. “Just guess and then go a little bigger.”
“Sound advice,” Siobhan approved. “Wolf, you wear a thirty-two or so in shirts?”
“About that,” he agreed.
“Isn’t Luvaas about your size?”
“A mite smaller, more like Conli’s size.”
“Conli is a thirty,” Denney offered. “Well, he’s actually a twenty-nine, but he prefers a looser fit.”
“Then let’s get a thirty for Luvaas.”
Siobhan lost track of time as they browsed and picked up shirts, sweaters, and pants, discussing and guessing what size people wore. At some point, Wolf started taking things out of her hands and carrying them to the counter, where the woman there started folding and figuring up the total so that the girls weren’t forced to carry the whole lot of it around and start a clothing avalanche.
Denney paused in her browsing and looked up through the store window. “There’s Conli. Uh-oh.”
“Uh-oh?” Siobhan repeated, looking up to see what the trouble was.
Conli was tottering their direction with arms overflowing in packages, bundles, and bags. It seemed only a matter of seconds before something would slip and fall to the street.
“Denney, go rescue him,” Siobhan urged. Her words were unnecessary, as the young woman was already moving, heading quickly out the door at a half-lope, the fastest pace she could manage through the crowd outside.
But her progress abruptly stopped when two men grabbed her by the arm, dragging her to a halt. Siobhan recognized the situation for what it was within a heartbeat. Once again, because of Denney’s obviously half-Teheranian heritage, she’d been mistaken as a prostitute. Siobhan waited three seconds, just to see if Denney could reason her way out of it. But the cheap flasks in the men’s hands were half-consumed and they were obviously too drunk to understand ‘no.’
Growling under her breath, she looked back toward the counter. “Wolf. Denney.”
Wolf pushed forward, an angry tic in his jaw. “What, again?”
“Conli’s in no position to help her, either. His hands are full.” She almost said, ‘go help her,’ when she caught sight of Rune’s face. The assassin hadn’t even looked up at their exchange, but was examining the shirt Sylvie had pressed into his hands. His complete disinterest in what was happening disturbed her. Wolf hadn’t exaggerated the matter—if trouble arose, and it didn’t affect Rune, he truly wouldn’t respond.
Making a snap decision, she ordered, “Rune. Go help Denney.”
With nothing more than a glance to show that he had heard her, he passed the shirt back to Sylvie before leaving the store in a quick stride.
Wolf came in close and murmured, “Is that a good idea?”
“I’ve got to get him in the habit of thinking of the guild as his guild,” she muttered back. “Otherwise trouble is going to arise. But go after