Wyll sat on his bedroll, unable to sleep. Mizora had shown up only a few hours prior—“a visit in kindness” she had called it, though he had to believe it was anything but.

She’d come to inform him she’d sold his contact to someone else. Who, she didn’t care to say, no matter how much he pressed her.

Wyll didn’t like the idea, but he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. All he could to was wait, and pray whoever this new patron was was better than Mizora.