Cerrit’s talons tighten on Jeff’s coat. “It’s that or I take him to town hall to write him up.”

Ambrose hears that and gives Jeff a quiet considering look that lingers, like he’s trying to weigh the bard’s very soul with his large, watery eyes.

“Boy, would you try to make it worth it, if I took you on? Showed you the secrets of how I make everything? I have thought about hiring someone. You’re not what I was looking for, but…I wasn’t what my teacher was, either, back in the day.”