Moss parked her battered jeep at one end of Bristlecone's main street and walked the rest of the way. Easier to get the lay of the land on foot, so to speak; and her car was recognizable enough that it seemed smarter to keep it out of view. If Roman was avoiding her, or planning to, she wasn't going to make it any easier.
Funny little town. Its shape, a sort of bowl in the middle of an uneven ring of hills, didn't seem quite natural, not to mention that perpetual drizzle. Even in places with habitually rainy climates, normally you got some sun. Only one or two days a year, maybe, but something. It didn't worry her, because there didn't seem to be anything actually wrong, and anyway this place had proven itself to be adequately defended already. But it struck her as odd. She briefly wished Elisheva had come along, in case there was something here she could have sensed.
The cafe, when Moss reached it, turned out to be an unassuming affair, gray brick with big plate glass windows in the front revealing yellow flowers on tables and a theoretically tantalizing glimpse of a bookshelf. From what she could tell it was actually organized, which meant Roman wasn't running this place by himself. Fascinating. The reports she'd read had given more attention to the spectacle of monsters battling in the sky than the bookstore employee who'd broken the flood spell, but she'd made some assumptions: most ordinary people would have skipped town after an experience like that. Or at minimum quit working with someone so closely connected to the events.
The sign said Cafe du Livre. Moss chuckled to herself. Roman, for a monster hunter, was terribly unimaginative.
It wasn't too busy at this time of day, which meant fewer people to stare at her, although maybe the green hair and the arm scars didn't draw so much attention here after recent events; and honestly, if she'd been that worried about it, she could have worn a shirt with sleeves. There was no one at the counter, but near the stove a tall white woman with the slit-pupiled eyes of a lizard stirred a cup of coffee and whistled to herself. When she turned around and saw Moss she gasped and dropped the spoon.
"It's you!" she said, bending to pick up the errant utensil, and it was so rare for someone to say this upon seeing Moss that she couldn't summon up a response. "Sorry," the woman continued, coming over to the counter. Her ears were slowly turning red. "I've seen pictures of you, but you're...kind of more in person. I'm Jules."