Declan wrapped his hands with the roll of cloth in the practiced motions of someone who had been doing this for a long time. "James at six o'clock," he answered. James was a Welshman in London that Declan had fought a few times; sometimes Deck won, sometimes James won. They split the ticket profits fairly.

Done wrapping his hands, he set the roll down on Hestia's side table. "Think we'll be behind the Jinxed Jackrabbit," Declan said, with a sheepish grin — all inns were probably some level of competition for Iron Fang.