It was filled with inexpensive, handcrafted jewelry that meant nothing to him at the moment. All he was concerned about was getting back to the cave safely, and explaining his duplicity to Nova. “What do you want of me?” Marcos softly asked as he gripped Nova’s hand tighter and glared at the older man who’d outed him. “I assumed this girl with you knows of your identity.” Marcos glanced at Nova; she kept her face down and almost hidden by the folds of her hood. “Go on and be quick about it,” he instructed. “Sir, constables have been visiting the various businesses, asking if anyone has tried to buy large amounts of certain herbs or medicinals,” the merchant said as he pretended to show Marcos a handful of jewelry. “Slugs are looking for someone who might be a healer. There was once one among us. She was a Wiccan woman. The lady you’re with has the look of that culture. It’s her eyes, sir. Despite her scars, no other planet but Wyrdan produces such remarkably colored eyes.
