Grey stopped a few steps away from the old woman, Brad still slung over his shoulder and white-gold strands dancing through his hair. He looked down at her, then past her toward Xerchen pulling himself free from the ruined wall.
"What, old hag? You gonna protect the bitch?"
The old woman's expression didn't so much as twitch. Whatever irritation Grey had managed to drag out of her earlier was gone now, replaced by something cold and indifferent, as though his words were little more than a breeze passing over stone. "Behave yourself," she said calmly. "Otherwise, there will be consequences."
Grey snorted. "Consequences? Lady, if I had a credit for every old person who threatened me with consequences, I'd—"
Something touched his Neural Frame.
Grey stopped talking.
