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That is roughly what I had in mind, except when we get out of here we are going in the other direction, as far away from your krenoj crowd as I can get." Ijale listened attentively, stirring the soup with one hand and scratching inside her leather wrappings with the other.
The heavy bolt thudded shut in the door behind him and he winced at the thick fumes of half-burnt kerosene through which the light of the single-wick lamp barely penetrated. Ijale crouched over the small oil stove cooking something in a pottery bowl. She looked up and smiled hesitatingly at Jason, then turned back to the stove. Jason walked over, sniffed and shuddered. "What a feast!
She held him with her grenade-throwing arm and kissed him fiercely. She kept her eyes open while she was doing this but only had to fire once. "Jason!" a voice called and Ijale appeared, half-supporting the still dazed Mikah. "Who is this?" Meta snapped, the chill back in her voice. "Why just someone I know," Jason answered, smiling insincerely.
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