The noise of it is a bit sudden - all the voices and the closing of doors, opening of windows - but the town is simple enough, no bright Fair-lights or fantastical carts selling spells.

The inn, when they find it, is equally simple. Wooden sign with some colorfully plumed bird and a front door with swinging hinges that makes the star grin.

"No Slaughtered Princes," she says. "Somehow that's a comforting notion."

This isn't at all because she still hasn't returned the owner's key. (Really.)