Once Isolde's shadows had been successfully lured away, Sela and Mirelle—now dressed in garb similar to what Lugh was wearing—were ready to move.
Their clothes were plain indoor wear meant for male residents: light brown, soft, and slightly undersized. The plan had been simple, but effective.
They would strip out of their all-black ensembles and hand them over to Lugh's clones.
They had heard of it before, but seeing it firsthand was another matter.
It was more than a little unnerving when the clones—silent and expressionless—morphed and shifted, transforming perfectly into the girls' very likeness.
Sela didn't dwell on it. She took the liberty to change quickly, unfazed, moving with the brisk efficiency of someone who'd done this before.
The only minor issue they encountered was the sizing.
Sela had chosen to keep her undershirt, slipping the smaller pants on over her legs with a mild grimace. Mirelle, on the other hand, had no such luxury.
