Aslan, on the other hand, moved with purpose toward the bar. Much as he looked put together, Aslan hardly cut the figure of the too-much-money types who sometimes practically lived at the Diamond Pony (Zechariah included these days, though never in the bedrooms).

Had they not recognized him from Dr. Witaker, Aslan doubted he ever would have been allowed to so much as set foot in a place like this. Nisa would riot if she ever caught on that a step up in life for them might have been through a brothel of all places.

“Doing alright,” Aslan answered.

He was always doing alright, according to him.

“Nisa’s keeping busy,” he added. “I’m keeping busy. It’s good to keep busy. Seems like you’re keeping busy, too.”

His eyes landed on the crutches near him.

“You alright, Menachem?”