Randrik felt the touch of the Watcher, a tendril of clammy malevolence that poked and prodded at his shield and then withdrew. He traced it to the man lurking in the obscurity of the shadows, his identity cloaked from normal sight by some kind of odd Shield. Careful not to alert the would-be examiner he had been discovered, he sat down and ordered a glass of wine that turned out to be about what he might have expected from the place an enchanting vintage of vinegar with an undertone of horse piss. He set it down after the first sip and considered his options.
He still believed he and Perian were likely to be safer here than somewhere outside in the night. At least there were walls and doors between them and whatever might come looking for them, and their horses were long overdue for a rest. They would just have to be careful.
He called the innkeeper over and gave the order to deliver their dinner then ran back up the stairs, hoping he gave the impression of an impatient lifemate returning to his spouse. It might be enough if they could just keep the spy in the corner uncertain what he was observing long enough for Darak to get back from wherever he had disappeared to.
He alerted Perian with mindspeech as he neared the door, and she opened it immediately when he tapped on it.
"What?" she demanded, alerted by his tension.
"There's someone downstairs watching, someone who was very, very interested in what's inside my head."