Chapter 107
Colby at the moment was listening to a cheerful tall man talk about book-binding, asking about techniques, fascinated by processes and manuscripts and literature. A small group had formed, not so much because people had recognized Colby Kent and Jason Mirelli—though a few of them obviously had, from the expressions and the cameras sneaking out—but because Colby asked thoughtful questions and the man gave happily detailed answers, and the stall was turning into a small educational experience.
Jason felt someone at his elbow. Turned.
The woman from the stall next door, with all the gleaming telescopes and navigational instruments for sale, beamed up at him. Her cloak rustled as she leaned against a post. “Enjoying yourselves?”
“Yeah,” Jason said. “I mean…yeah. Seriously, yes. It’s been awesome.”
“Roasted chestnut?”