Yseult laughs, only just as long and loud as necessary to convey to Bastien that she has. "I'm afraid Riftwatch would be the first place people would look for anything so strange."

They arrive at the appropriate platform at exactly the right moment, a jogged half-step sufficient to get them in just ahead of the disembodied warning to stand clear of the closing doors and take up a position around the central pole. Yseult gives their fellow riders a cursory scan, taking in the video panels playing ads for a concert series and the lit-up stop indicators on the route map. (Riftwatchers are probably the only people in the city who think things like sleek, miraculous, fast, clean about the subway.)

"I'm surprised you haven't given it a try. I saw a blue streak the other day that might suit you. Some of the tattoos here are remarkable, too."