Hart stepped back to let the new arrivals tend to their comrade. Noticing that her sash was stained where it had dipped into the mage’s blood, she briefly considered its worth as a material component for ritual purposes and found no significant value. This mage was too stupid to ever make it necessary. She untied the knot that held the band around her hips and let the scarf flutter to the floor. One thousand nuyen on the expenses, Old Lizard. That was real silk and a Scaratelli to boot.