The broken door of the inn groaned as it was finally pushed aside, creaking as if protesting against yet another indignity that day. Strax went out first, calmly adjusting his coat, his face too tranquil for someone who had just turned a lunch into a massacre. Cassandra followed closely behind, her expression neutral, her eyes alert. Daniela brought up the rear of the trio, cracking her neck as if preparing for a tedious walk.
The air outside was colder than inside the inn, heavy with the smell of dust, rust, and something too metallic to be just ordinary urban air. The sound of boots hitting stone echoed almost immediately.
They took no more than three steps.
