The streets of the bazaar were crowded, the heat oppressive. Simon moved calmly between stalls selling spices and fabrics, his head bowed so as not to attract attention. You followed him closely, your eyes alert. "Don't look left," he murmured. "There are two people standing there who've been watching too long." It sounded like he was talking about the weather. His pace remained steady, his face impassive. While you felt the adrenaline pumping through you, he seemed like someone who had long since learned to breathe calmly in the midst of danger.