The hooded man nodded. “Pay off that debt.”

As the men walked away, Elden moved to Wyatt’s side and Allie ran out to hug him. The three returned to the loft and slipped inside the doorway. Elden took one last look around then closed the door behind them.

“Did you see the size of that guy?” Hadrian asked Royce, still glancing over his shoulder as if the giant might try to sneak up on them. “I’ve never seen anyone that big. He had to be a good seven feet tall, and that neck, those shoulders, and that axe! It would take two of me just to lift it. Maybe he isn’t human, maybe he’s a giant, or a troll. Some people swear they exist. I’ve met a few who say they have seen them personally.”

Royce looked at his friend and scowled.

“Okay, so it’s mostly drunks in bars who say that, but that doesn’t mean it’s not possible. Ask Myron, he’ll back me up.”

The two headed north toward the Langdon Bridge. It was quiet here. In the respectable hill district of Colnora, people were more inclined to sleep at night than to carouse in taverns. This was the home of merchant titans, affluent businessmen who owned houses grander than many of the palatial mansions of upper nobility.

Colnora had started out as a meager rest stop at the intersection of the Wesbaden and Aquesta trade routes. Originally, a farmer named Hollenbeck and his wife watered caravans here and granted room in their barn to the traders in return for news and goods. Hollenbeck had an eye for quality and always picked the best of the lot.

Soon his farm became an inn and Hollenbeck added a store and a warehouse to sell what he acquired to passing travelers. The merchants deprived of first pick bought plots next to his farm and opened their own shops, taverns, and roadhouses. The farm became a village, then a city, but still, the caravans gave preference to Hollenbeck. Legend held that the reason was their fondness for his wife, a wonderful woman who in addition to being uncommonly beautiful, sang and played the mandolin. It was said she baked the finest cobblers of peach, blueberry, and apple. Centuries later, when no one could accurately place the location of the original Hollenbeck farm, and few remembered there had ever been such a farmer, they continued to remember his wife-Colnora.