Dan has made it plain there are spirits here, mingling in their way, Marcus supposes, but there's not a single demon to be seen. Not that he'd been worried, really. Back home, a demon might have come for him simply due to his reputation, but in Darrow, they're fewer and further between.

The night is perfect, truly.

He's sitting near the water now, having pulled a chair over, his shoes and socks abandoned long ago and the legs of his trousers rolled up as the water laps over his feet. They're lucky to have all these people to celebrate with, even if they are missing some who ought to be here.

For a moment, Marcus closes his eyes and thanks them all, then opens his eyes again and looks back over his shoulder.

"Someone bring me another slice of cake!" he calls, grinning. "I believe you have to do what I ask, since it's my day and all."