"In fairness to us, sometimes you are," Ana muttered, but she kept walking forward regardless. Her head was on a swivel, looking out for any kind of threat, magical or mundane. Even if she'd likely only be able to help with the mundane ones.
"Pssh, I'm always a soldier," she joked, if only to break up some of the tension. Her hand rested on the hilt of one of the knives worn under her jacket sleeves; she always wore them when she went off Cirque grounds. Better safe than sorry.
She was about to open her mouth and say she didn't know, when she saw the silver spark again. "I'm gonna guess that way," she suggested, pointing at the new marks on the tiles. "Since they were nice enough to point the way, and all."