Thomas took a deep breath through his mouth, centered, tasted a hint of salt and green, like lilies in water, and allowed his eyes to focus again. The sigils deep in the concrete below flared to him as if heated metal were hovering a few inches under his feet, and in his vicinity it was noticeably warmer than the rest of the room.
No one was watching them.
He put out one hand, bare, without glove or mitten despite the cold, and took hers. He had extremely rough palms, and surprisingly thick knuckles for a man of his age. When he moved toward her it was at an angle so the good leg took most of his weight. His gray eyes were obscured and abruptly secretive.