Kirkwall’s plucky orphans and intrepid street children have been through quite a bit — a Qun invasion, aberrations in the streets, part of their city blowing up, Lowtown ravaged by crime, a Venatori attack more recently and more parts of the city blowing up — and they have, after everything, found ways to survive. Most of it’s a pipeline to the Undercity. Some of it is preying on nobleborn tourists with cash to spare.

“How much were you carrying?” the stranger asks. He’d been on the verge of finally introducing himself, and it had only been a genuine bit of advice for someone who looked like he maybe wasn’t familiar with a big city’s eccentricities.

But now the kid’s scampering off down the street with Connor’s money, bare feet running pell-mell down the dirty stones, and Cassian watches the small figure disappear around the corner. He shakes his head.

“Don’t tell me that was all your gold.”

You stitch it into hidden pockets and stash it in your boot, c’mon, this is beginner stuff —