The glow changed completely.
It came from somewhere beneath all the previous layers. A color unrelated to brightness. The sort of thing you see in a fire late at night when the surface flames are mostly gone and what remains burns at the center.
Like the passage of music that finally reaches the sentence it had been built around.
I let it finish.
"You are correct," I said. "I'm not returning to the other kind of work."
The vibration remained steady.
"Good," I said. "Then we can talk about the actual question."
I glanced toward the open door.
"The inn is a reasonable place. The guests are considerable. The Walker has been in residence long enough that its morning ritual has started affecting the corridor fog even when it isn't active."
I gestured toward the corridor.
