“Straight home,” Nicoleta says. “Does everyone hear?”
“Yes,” we chorus. No one argues with Nicoleta when there’s a crisis.
We step into the smoky night air, right in the middle of the clearing that was once filled with vendors, fortune-workers and laughing guests. Now, everyone is running. White-coated Frician officials on horseback charge dangerously close to the Gomorrah merchants packing up their stands. The officials brandish clubs and holler at passersby. Several brandish swords and crossbows.
Gomorrah is chaos.