Bert made a sound that was close to a snort. He wasn't worried about being done in by smoke, of any sort. He'd already died, technically. It just hadn't taken. That sort of thing happened, when prophecies and magics and scions of god-men were involved.

"Aye, that it is a crossroads. Not much of one, though." The world wasn't thin here, there was no hum and buzz of that place where the barriers grew thin. Bert knew those places all too well. "But mayhap it's enough so's God can't see us, aye?" He winked. He didn't know if legends about crossroads were the same here as in his home, but he would wager they'd be similar. Things often were.

"Anyhow, if yeh happen to have any mary-wanna for purchase, I'd be interested."