“Stop. I sense a presence.” The old gypsie leered about the room, eyeing the gaps between the three adventurers. The air in the colorful tent was heavy and musty, full of a dark energy.

“Ignore that,” Clemens said calmly, adjusting his glasses and straightening his thin tie.

“Wait,” Horrace rasped, “We came fer her, wha’d you call it, second sight, right? So why ain’t we listenin’?” The question as well as its asker towered over Clemens.

The gypsy swayed and seemed close to being overcome, “The presence, it is strong.”

Ella slid smooth as silk between the two men, her impassive face towards the larger, “We follow Clemens. Period.”

“Ma’am, ignore the presence. We just need to know about the knife. Have you seen it?” Clemens was calm but firm.

“But the presence…”

“The presence is within me, ma’am. He is contained and not a threat at the present time. Now, the knife?”

Ella and Horrace exchanged glances. Clemens only eyed the old woman. She eyed him back, a hand to her talisman.