On Fourday morning, Mr. Walker carefully recited a list of things he wanted, and Piper repeated it back. Mr. Daly kept having trouble, though, so Mr. Walker asked Piper to remind him if he forgot anything. She watched Mr. Daly to see if he got mad about that, but he wasn't paying much attention. He was always staring at Miss Sheema. Only, now he was staring at Miss Varga, too.

  Miss Varga was funny; Piper liked her a lot. She did a silly little dance with her hips and blew Mr. Daly a kiss. It looked like she was trying to keep from laughing the whole time.

  They packed up and got on the road, and by late morning, Southby was visible. Mr. Walker found a circle road that went all the way around the town, and turned the wagons onto it instead of going in. He stopped long enough to let Piper and Mr. Daly off, and Miss Eubexa took over the reins of the second wagon. She always wore her veil, so nobody could tell that she was an elf. She didn't even talk funny.

  Piper hopped and skipped as they walked closer to the town. “Don't wander off,” Mr. Daly said. Piper rolled her eyes. Did he already forget that we have to do different things?

  As they got closer and closer, Piper frowned. Southby was only the third town Piper had ever seen, but it looked weird. Oak Mill had wooden walls, and Middleton had big stone walls, but Southby didn't even seem to have a wall!

  “How do they keep the monsters and animals out?” she wondered.

  “I dunno,” Mr. Daly said. “Maybe they don't have a lot of monsters around here.” They joined the people who were moving inwards; the road just sort of...became a town road at some point. They started passing buildings, just a few at first, but then more and more until it felt like they were in the middle of town.

  The road they were on ended at a big plaza in the middle, with two stone buildings. Piper guessed that they had to be the Temple and the Keep. They were smaller than the ones in Oak Mill, even though the town seemed bigger. Maybe they don't have a lot of rocks, she guessed.

  On one side of the plaza was a great big wooden wall with lots of papers stuck to it. Above the wall there was a roof sticking out, but it looked a little funny. Piper frowned and looked at the stalls sellers had, then back at the messages wall. Suddenly, she got it. “Oh! At night time, they move those poles and the roof comes down to smoosh the messages and keep them out of the rain!” She pointed excitedly.

  Mr. Daly took a minute to figure out what she was saying, and then another minute to look around and decide that she was right. “Yeah...good eyes, kid,” he muttered, sounding surprised. Piper caught a flash of motion at her own height, and immediately jumped between it and Mr. Daly. The boy was a little older than her, but she knew how to get in his way.

  “Back off, this one's mine!” she snapped at the street boy. They got into a bit of a staring match that Piper broke off first, because Mr. Daly was walking away and she had to stay with the adult for the moment. Stupid of me. I was staring at things and I wasn't watching out for thieves or bullies.

  “Mr. Daly?”

  “Yeah, Piper?”

  “Hold your coin pouch like this, please.” She clasped her fist to her breastbone. “At least when we're outside.” She got between another nicker and Mr. Daly, then shook her head, warning the girl off.

  “Why? Do you think someone is going to try to steal it?”

  Piper rolled her eyes. “Yes, sir.”

  “I think we'll be fine,” Mr. Daly said. He put a hand on his pouch, at least, but that mostly just told the nickers where it was. She tensed as the first boy approached again, but he nicked the pouch of a different man and darted away.

  Piper was a bit puzzled. I'm standing right here. Why were they trying for his pouch in the first place? Unless you were teamed up, you always avoided going for a nick from the same target as someone else. That was just common sense. She tried to imagine what the two of them looked like from the view of the locals. Then her eyes widened.

  I don't look like a nicker! she realized with a shock. My clothes are too nice, and I'm talking with the target. That's so weird... This was a new concept, and Piper wondered how she should be acting. She returned her attention to watching the crowd and listening.

  “Rabbit sticks! Juicy rabbit sticks!”

  “Welcome to Southby! Directions! I have directions!”

  “Fabrics! Clothes! Gifts for a lady!”

  “Anything written, anything read!”

  She looked closely at the writer. The girl was a few years older than Piper, and had a little board, a slate, and a pack as she sat on a bench. The writer's clothes were as nice as her own, too. Piper was envious. She knew her runes, but hadn't gotten the chance to learn to read properly, and she'd found that writing was a lot harder than it looked, the one time she'd tried.

  Mr. Daly walked up to the boy offering directions. He shook some coppers out of his pouch, and the boy's eyes lit up. “The Farmer's Market?”

  “Straight that way, sir!”

  Mr. Daly moved a copper to his fingertips. “And the leatherworkers?”

  The boy held up two fingers. “All the way at the end of that road, and turn right, sir!”

  “Are there any traveling shows in town?” Piper asked. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Mr. Daly glance at her, but she focused on the kid in front of her, who was nodding eagerly.

  “The Fantastic Fleming and Family!” he told them, raised a third finger, then waited.

  Piper's eyes narrowed. I shouldn't have asked it that way. “Where are they set up? Which way?”

  “North Well Square.” He pointed, and raised a fourth finger.

  Piper glanced at Mr. Daly, who picked through his coins for a five-copper piece and tossed it to the boy. “Thanks, kid.”

  “Thank you, sir!”

  Mr. Daly put his pouch away, and Piper took the opportunity to nick it. She lifted a few silvers and coppers out and palmed them, then shook the pouch to get his attention. He turned and stared at it, then at her, then checked his belt, then looked at her again in astonishment.

  “Please hold it like this,” Piper repeated her request, demonstrating, then held it out. Mr. Daly took it, hesitated, then pushed it to his breastbone. “Thank you, sir.” With a sigh, he marched off towards the market. Behind his back, Piper flicked a copper to the directions boy and winked, then trotted after.

  “Mr. Daly, I need to go to the Keep and North Well Square. Do you want to meet at the south end of town?”

  “Are you going to be all right?” Piper just raised her eyebrows and waited. Mr. Daly sighed. “Fine. Don't be a Smarty Sam,” he grumbled. “We'll meet in an hour. If that fails for some reason and I'm over an hour late, we'll meet at the Keep.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Piper darted towards the Keep before he could change his mind or make some other demand. I hope he hasn't got any gold in that pouch.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  As she approached the door of the Keep, the first town guard she had seen yet help up his palm at her. “Halt. What is your business?”

  “Checking for messages at the Signal Stone, Mr. Guard. I'm supposed to check at every town.”

  “Who are you expecting a message from?” the guard asked in a skeptical tone.

  “Summer Daring.” The guard reacted to the name. Piper added, “She runs the Wandering Ax Tavern in Oak Mill.”

  “You're one of hers, huh?” Piper didn't know what that meant, but she nodded anyway. “The Signal Stone's on the top floor. Just take the stairs all the way up.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Guard!” Piper headed for the stairs.

  The first flight was stone, and the next three were wood. Piper was puffing a little bit when she got to the top. She had to wait for some noble to finish composing an outgoing message, which took him quite a while. Piper wondered what was so difficult, but waited quietly, doing her best to draw no attention to herself. Finally, the man finished, grumbled as he handed over the silvers, and turned and walked out with a huff. Piper was very careful to stay out of his way.

  Finally, it was her turn. She stepped up to the desk, and went up on her toes to see over it. She stretched her neck up straight. “Hello. My name is Piper Jennaschild. Do you have any messages for me from Summer Daring?”

  The man behind the desk gave her a mean look and said, “People don't send Signal Stone messages to young children.”

  Piper knew that had to be wrong, because princesses and people like that must sometimes get messages sent. She took a deep breath and tried to speak carefully and very politely even though the man was annoying. She didn't want him to get mad at her. “I'm certain that Summer Daring would send a message to the daughter of a Duke,” she argued.

  The man suddenly stopped sneering. They looked at each other a moment. What am I supposed to say? she wondered.

  “The name on the message would be Piper Jennaschild,” she repeated carefully.

  “One moment, young Miss.” The man turned to a wall full of little holes and began searching.

  Young Miss? That's weird. Piper didn't question it out loud. It only took a few moments before he was back. “I apologize. There does not seem to be any such message yet.”

  Scared of making him mad, she tried to think of how to address him politely. “Thank you, Clerk...” She realized that she didn't know his name and gave up. “I will try at Grange or Fort Fury.” She started to walk out, and realized that she hadn't said goodbye. She didn't want to turn around but she didn't want to be rude, so she just said, “Good day,” very carefully as she left.

  ° ? ? ? °

  She made her way to North Well Square, stopping for a meat pie on the way. So far, Mr. Walker had not objected to feeding Piper along with everyone else, and she hadn't gone to sleep hungry since they left Oak Mill. Life was uncertain, though, so if she could feed herself, she would.

  This was the first time she was alone in a town since she'd gotten some money from Miss Daring and the elves. She reminded herself that she didn't have to spend money the minute she got it, but old habits died hard. You couldn't get robbed if you'd already spent the coin, after all.

  When she got to the square, a performance was already underway. Piper joined the crowd, squatting on the cobbles, and listened to the play. It was an old tale that she had heard before, but not from actors. If the story was the same, the performance would be over soon.

  The Fantastic Fleming and Family had only one wagon, but from it the players had unfolded booths for plays, tables for games, and more. She inspected the setup from all angles, eager to learn more about the life her mother had chosen. Jenna had only gone off with a show to go make money so she could come back and take care of Piper one day, of course.

  Her conversations with the members of the Fleming clan were brief and frustrating. Well, there will be more players in bigger cities, and I'll go in every city we pass until I find her. She was grateful that Mr. Walker allowed her to come along and search for her mother.

  She made her way to the south side of the city and looked around. She didn't see Mr. Daly at all. I'm early. He had more to do than I did. I'd better go help him.

  She started learning the town. She would walk a short ways, visit a vendor or something, and then take her time looking around for any signs of lookouts, nickers, or marks of a bad neighborhood. She only saw a roaming guard once. It all felt crazy to her. The place was too happy, too peaceful.

  No walls, almost no guards. This town is going to fall sooner or later. Something is going to eat everyone here.

  She caught up with Mr. Daly at a smithy. She was pleasantly surprised that he still had his coin pouch.

  He was arguing with a big man with no hair and a lot of sweat.

  “How can you be that busy?” Mr. Daly asked.

  “Because most of the other smiths up and left like a pack of fools!”

  “When was this?”

  “Two or three weeks back. I've been swamped with orders ever since.”

  “Where did they go?”

  “The gods may know but I surely don't.”

  Piper thought that was really odd. A smith didn't just up and go somewhere for no reason. They were too important, and all their stuff was really heavy. Did they hear about demons and get scared? Now, this smith has to do lots of work...That gave her an idea.

  “Mr. Smith?”

  “With those prices, I'll wait until we reach another city!” Mr. Daly was protesting.

  The big smith only shrugged. “Fair enough. Like I said, I don't have time to help you with repairs even if I wanted to drop my price. There are eight smithies in town, and only two of us still have our fires lit. Hanz is busy supplying the Keep, and I've got to take care of everybody else in town!”

  “Excuse me, please, Mr. Smith?”

  “I guess you have the whip hand,” Mr. Daly admitted with a sigh. He turned to go, and the smith looked like he was about to get back to work.

  “Do you need salt!?” Piper yelled.

  “What was that?”

  “What?”

  Both grownups were finally paying attention. Piper took a deep breath. “You have a lot of work. Do you have enough salt, or do you want to buy more?”

  The smith looked suspiciously at her. “Why do you ask, little girl?”

  “Oh!” Mr. Daly finally understood. “The caravan we're with has some bags of salt for sale.”

  The smith pursed his lips. “How much?”

  “One gold a bag, five bags,” Piper half-shouted before Mr. Daly said something stupid.

  “Is that right?” The smith asked. Piper glared at Mr. Daly as hard as she could. He stared back at her, and she could almost see his soul flickering before it caught.

  “It's actually a gold and five each,” Mr. Daly corrected. “Piper, don't undersell.”

  “Sorry.” Piper looked at the ground, surprised. She hadn't been sure Mr. Daly was any good at haggling.

  “Well, I might be persuaded to buy at ninety...”

  “No, no, never mind. We'll sell in Grange for at least a gold and five,” Mr. Daly told the smith.

  “Yes, but then you'd have to carry the salt all the way there. I'll take it off your hands for ninety-five a bag.”

  “I don't know if we want the delay to bring the salt in. We're headed out of town and already burning daylight. Still...maybe we could do it for a gold per bag.”

  “A gold per bag, and I weigh them before I pay.”

  “We weigh them,” Piper put in.

  “We all weigh them,” the smith demanded.

  That's what I meant...

  “Fine,” Mr. Daly agreed. “We'll be back later this afternoon. Will you have the money ready by then?”

  “I will.”

  “Good. Then I'll speak with you later today. Come along, Piper.” Mr. Daly started walking away.

  “Thank you for your business!” Piper chirped, and followed.

  They walked in silence for a minute or two.

  “We'll need a donkey cart,” Mr. Daly said finally. “I can't carry five bags at once and I'm not interested in making multiple trips.”

  Piper thought about hiring a cart and driver, going out to the wagons, loading up, and bringing the salt in. She worried a bit about the driver seeing the elves. “If Mr. Walker came in with us, he could carry three. Could you carry two?”

  “Of course I can!” Mr. Daly snapped.

  Piper realized that she'd made him mad and looked at the ground. “Sorry, sir. I'm little and I can't even lift one.”

  Mr. Daly huffed. “That's fine. You're a little girl. Don't worry, I wouldn't ask you to carry one.”

  “Thanks, sir. You're lots bigger than me.” They got quiet again, and Mr. Daly led them to a market. He had gotten almost everything already. They made their last purchases and Mr. Daly turned to her.

  “You're quick with your hands. Can I trust you not to drop the eggs?”

  “Yes, sir.” She took the little box with eggs in it and peered inside. Someone had had the good sense to pack them in straw, at least.

  “All right, let's get this done.”

  Piper stayed quiet for the whole walk back and practiced her Elvish in her soul. Egg. Eggs. Eggs in...I don't know the word for box yet. I walk. I am walk? No, I am walking. I think. I am walking and I have eggs in whatever the word for box is.

  They found the wagons after a long walk and a bit of searching. They still might have missed them except Mr. Arven saw them go by and made the weird bird call. Piper recognized it and told Mr. Daly.

  They dropped off the provisions. Mr. Daly started smooching Miss Sheema right away, so Piper rolled her eyes and explained the deal for the salt. She repeated the conversation word for word. Mr. Walker listened to the whole story, asked a couple of questions, and then patted her roughly on the head. “Good job, kid.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Walker.” When he turned around, she winced and rubbed her head a moment. Is he mad at me? She knew that he had a lot of little brothers and sisters. But then, she remembered that he got big and strong after he left home. Maybe he's just forgotten how to pat kids' heads. Mr. Daly got mad at me a couple of times, I think, but Mr. Walker hasn't gotten mad at me even once yet. I wonder if he would get mad if I asked him to be more gentle?

  Better not risk it, she decided. This was life; bigger people were more powerful, and it was stupid to get powerful people mad. Sometimes you had to, but it was better not to take too many chances. Piper had an amazing setup now. She knew it would all go away sooner or later, but she would try to enjoy having good clothes and enough food for as long as she could.

  She wished she could tell Ma about her life now.