Bathed, fed, and rested, Vix and Caine departed from the Robin Nest the next day.
Caine was still very unhappy. “I still don’t fully understand why we’re giving up a perfectly nice place like this in favor of some flea-bitten flophouse.”
“Because,” Vix explained patiently for what felt like the hundredth time, “we’ll need to be somewhere close by to really find out anything. Trust me, in Belgrave, slum rats can smell an outsider from a mile away.”
She was wearing her old clothes again, a raggedy shirt and trousers that had long since lost any semblance of their original color. Vix had found herself bizarrely hesitant to throw them away after borrowing new clothes from Caine, and now she was glad she had. She was sure to fit in, wearing these.
It had been quite difficult to convince Caine to abandon his own fine clothes in favor of the ones he had lent Vix. He looked somewhat the part, at least, his clothes covered in the grime accumulated from several days’ travel.