Dragons, Heists and Other Retirement Plans (Hornsboggle & Dodge #1)

They returned to the tavern after purchasing a midday meal—paid for in part by the office worker’s coupon—and re-entered the relative silence, darkness, and emptiness of the Gilded Midden during its slow afternoon hours.

A sullen fire was once again crackling quietly in the hearth, and the short, stout barman they’d first encountered the day before was back at his post. Reliably reticent up until now, he actually rose from his stool as they entered.

“No outside food,” he said gruffly, waving his polishing cloth toward the door. Ruben began to turn resignedly back, sandwich in hand, and Mrs. Chrysler stopped him.

“It’s starting to rain outside,” she told the barman.