She must be a law enforcement agent of some kind. X recognises the demeanour. He freezes for a moment, the familiar old terror of being hunted temporarily overriding his better sense; then he kicks himself and follows her inside.

"No," he answers her. "Not technically. Just call me X." They really don't have time for the usual shock and distrust, but at least there seem to be different rules in Aifaran with names. People get confused, not scared.

It's only once they're inside, smoke lining the ceiling and embers in the staircase ahead, that X notices what the woman's wearing and slows down. "Wait," he says, "that dress -- are you sure that's a good idea?"

The idea it might not be something she normally wears doesn't even occur.