Chapter 3

T hey reached Shieglas the following morning, and despite Archie's insistence that they should approach from above the harbor and explore first by air, Evelyn angled her broom to a grassy knoll outside the stone wall that encircled the harbor city. She touched down on the soft soil, swollen from a recent rain, and adjusted her pack, her eyes trained on the open gate and the wide cobblestone road leading through it.

A thrill shivered up her spine as she dropped the hood from her head, letting it fall around her neck and shoulders. "We made it!" she breathed.

Archie swayed on her shoulder as Evelyn shifted around, unable to stand still. "You're sure we shouldn't get a better overhead look first?"

Evelyn shook her head, resolute. "I want to walk through those gates, the same as everyone else. For all we know, they have guards in those towers. Guards with crossbows and itchy trigger fingers."

Archie looked up at the stone towers flanking the open gates and scoffed. The silver and blue banners bearing the royal crest hung over their sides, clearly marking the town as being part of Calendra. "This is not a castle or fortress, Evelyn. What would they be on guard against? Menacing seagulls? Wayward sea lions?"

She tossed her hair free of the hood, ignoring his absurd questions. "I think we'll make a better first impression this way."

Without further argument, she started down the gentle slope. With a short incantation and a shake of her hand, the broomstick turned back into a staff, which to most would look like nothing more than a simple walking stick, the wood smooth but for the small runes carved around the knobbed end.

The city gate loomed larger and more imposing the closer they got, the stone turrets rising high above their heads. There were, in fact, guards posted, but they remained at their posts on either side of the opening in the wall, keeping a mindful eye on the people filtering through. Archie quickly pointed out that none of them carried a crossbow.

On the other side of the wall the road branched off in several directions, and Evelyn's steps faltered as she glanced around, trying to determine which way she needed to go. The people behind her mumbled and grumbled before making a point of veering around her, some looking back with annoyed glances and scowls.

Archie's talons clung to her shoulder a little tighter, and she offered a quiet tut. "It's all right," she said, though she picked up her pace and moved to the right, following a pair of older men pulling wooden carts down the gently sloping road. They moved at a slower pace than those who used donkeys or horses to pull their wagons.

As they continued down the cobblestone road, the salty tang in the air grew stronger, along with the scent of fish and damp wood. Loud voices joined a chorus of wailing cries from the white gulls who circled overhead, their wings cutting through the grayish hue of the overcast sky.

The sea came into full view as they rounded a bend in the road, and Evelyn's breath caught in her throat. She'd seen many paintings of the ocean, even the specific seascape before her, as it appeared on the Salt & Sage bottle, but none of them compared to the beauty and vastness of the water before her, stretching for the horizon as far as her eyes could reach. The harbor itself was embraced by two long jetties of black rocks, jagged and glistening where shafts of sunlight managed to pierce through the clouds.

A variety of boats populated the bustling docks, with larger vessels and fishing boats out past the end of the jetties. It appeared some of the most distant ships sent their goods on smaller boats that could move more easily around the congested docks. Evelyn stood mesmerized by the coming and going of boats and workers, merchandise and goods. The whole operation moved like a carefully crafted dance with specific steps and timing. Many of the workers were goblinkin, stocky men and women with blue-tinged skin and bulging muscles. They moved with a swift efficiency that spoke of years of experience on the docks, their large hands deftly handling ropes and pulleys.

"Watch out!" a voice barked, and Evelyn turned in time to scurry out of the path of yet another group of people with carts and wagons.

"We'd best be on our way," Archie said into her ear, and while Evelyn was loath to leave the sea so quickly, she decided it best to return when the workday had ended. It was somewhat hard, though, to imagine such a bustling place ever truly being still and quiet.

As she turned to leave, she took note of the goods being loaded into the wagons and carts lining the road leading to the city: barrels of fish and ale, wooden crates nailed shut, bushels of hearty vegetables, and bags of grain and rice. Lady Kilgour had said the merchants in the harborside city were worried about their trade, and Evelyn wondered what the docks and throughways might look like in the height of the trading season, if the amount of goods before her was considered cause for alarm.

She turned away from the docks and backtracked the way she'd come, up the slight hillside. From the lowest part of the city, nearest the water's edge, it was evident how high the city rose, cut into the side of a mountain. It wasn't a proper mountain, so far as she knew, but an impressive cliffside, which provided additional fortification around the city. Large storehouses and granaries stood tall, distanced from the shore, their honey-colored stone blasted smooth from decades of salt and wind. As she walked farther into the city, the buildings became more pleasing to the eye, their wood not as weathered and battered.

The homes and shops, halls and bathhouses, taverns and inns, were much as they'd been in Benenfar—timber-framed structures, some capped with thatching, while others had pitched roofs and clay shingles, their windows framed with more intricate trim work and small flower boxes. Wooden signs bearing the names of various establishments swung gently in the sea breeze. Some of the shops had colorful awnings, dyed in shades of green and blue and wine red, stretched over the doorways.

A smattering of rain began to fall as Evelyn entered a marketplace where small shops stood clustered together in a square, surrounding an open plaza. The smell of cooked meats and spices mingled with the fresh scent of the rain, only to be cut through by the pungent tang of leather being tanned in a nearby workshop.

Evelyn followed her nose until it picked up the aroma of fresh-baked bread, and she found herself outside a bakery, pressing her nose near enough to the window that Archie ruffled his feathers against her ear. "You can't eat it through the glass!"

She was considering whether to treat herself to a loaf, or at least a roll… or two, when the sound of bells clanged from somewhere farther up the hillside, quickly followed by the laughter and shouts of a gaggle of children running wild through the plaza.

Most of the children appeared human, though one of the taller boys had the gangly arms and faint blue skin of a goblinkin. Another child had the grace and speed of an elfling, and a glimpse of pointed ears through sunflower yellow hair confirmed it. The smallest of the children was a faun, her legs that of a deer, covered in brown fur. Her delicate hooves clattered on the cobbles as she hurried to keep up with the others. Her hair, the color of pale spring clover, swirled around her shoulders, and while her torso was that of any other human girl, her head was crowned with two budding antlers.

Evelyn fished three copper fernels from one of her many pockets and stepped inside the bakery. Archie disembarked from her shoulder at the last minute, settling onto the lip of a barrel filled with rainwater to wait. They'd learned from experience that most shopkeepers weren't keen on having an owl around their goods, especially when those goods were meant to be eaten. Archie took it a bit personally, as he didn't appreciate being viewed as some common chicken, liable to mess himself all over the floor at the drop of a hat, but he'd given up the fight some time ago.

The baker was a petite woman with deep brown skin and kind eyes. At Evelyn's arrival, she brushed flour-covered hands along the front of her apron and smiled widely. "Glad Talimorn to you, miss!"

"Glad Talimorn," Evelyn repeated, offering a small nod. Her gaze quickly fell to the display case, where an assortment of rustic delights sat tucked into woven baskets: golden-brown loaves of honey oat bread, intricately braided cinnamon twists, and rolls topped with herbs and seeds. Alongside the various breads were polished wooden trays bearing an assortment of small, hand-sized fruit tarts with crimped edges. Tiny handwritten signs were placed before the rows, indicating the type of filling—rich blackberry, baked apple dusted with cinnamon and sugar, and a vibrant, orange-hued fruit topped with curls of candied zest.

Evelyn wanted one of everything, but in the end, she settled for one of the blackberry tarts and a golden-brown roll topped with tiny black poppyseeds. As she waited for the baker to wrap them up in paper, she resumed watching the children playing outside. A tall faun woman had approached the group and taken the young faun girl by the arm. The other children glanced nervously at one another as the faun was seemingly scolded. The tall faun pressed a stack of leaflets into the girl's hand and released her grip before turning to march away, her hoofbeats purposeful and clipped.

With a glum expression, the girl bade goodbye to her friends and began distributing flyers to anyone passing through the square. Evelyn's heart sank as the poor girl tried to keep the papers from getting wet, her face falling every time someone ignored her or skirted around her with a wave of dismissal.

"Here you are, miss," the baker said.

"Oh!" Evelyn turned away from the window and took her small parcel and change. "Thank you, kindly."

She dropped the last fernel into the small clay pot on the counter, then hurried outside.

The faun girl looked up, her mossy hair now damp and clinging to her forehead and cheeks, and spotted Evelyn. She darted out from underneath the awning, holding up one of the leaflets. "Miss, do you need a place to stay?"

Evelyn stopped walking and took the paper. "The Silver Fin?"

The faun nodded vigorously. "It's my parents' inn. Well, my mother and stepfather, I mean." She glanced at the bedroll strapped to Evelyn's back. "But even if you don't need a place to stay the night, you can come just for a meal! My mother makes the best food." She glanced at the small parcel in Evelyn's hands, then past her to the bakery's door. "Do you like bread? If so, you have to come try my mom's. She's making molasses bread for tonight's supper. "

Evelyn smiled, surprised and a little impressed by the young faun's acumen for sales. "As a matter of fact, I'm in need of both a place to stay and a hot meal, and as a general rule, I never say no to bread."

The faun wiggled with excitement, her hooves clomping on the rain-slicked cobbles as she danced a jig and grabbed Evelyn's hand. "Right this way! I'll take you!"

Even if Evelyn wanted to protest, she wouldn't dare risk ruining the smile on the faun's face, so she cast a glance back at Archie and nodded for him to follow.

"I'm Fiona, by the way," the little faun said as she guided Evelyn through the plaza and down one of the main streets, heading uphill, farther still from the docks. "What's your name?"

Archie landed silently on Evelyn's shoulder. "What's this?" he hooted.

Fiona turned at his hooted question, then gasped and dropped Evelyn's hand. "It—it talks?!"

Evelyn laughed softly. "This is Archie," she said with a nod. "And yes, he's a rather special kind of owl." Grinning, she cast a sidelong glance at her companion.

He puffed his little chest and eyed the faun with his usual skepticism. "And just what are you?"

"I'm a faun!" Fiona replied with a giggle. She jumped in the air and kicked her hooved feet before they clomped back against the stones.

With the introductions out of the way, Fiona continued walking and led Evelyn and Archie to the front door of her parents' inn. The building was a modest size, rising up two levels, and stood wedged between a fabric shop and a clothier, which seemed rather convenient.

Fiona opened the door to the inn, but then stepped aside, allowing Evelyn to pass through first. The warmth of a crackling fire washed over her and she realized how grateful she was to be out of the rain. Her cloak protected her from the worst of it, but it still felt good to be wrapped up in the warmth of a glowing hearth.

The front room of the inn was small, with only enough space for half a dozen square tables. The chairs gathered around the tables were mismatched and scuffed, some with upholstered seats, and others made only of wood. A bar with a scarred top ran along the wall opposite the hearth, open on either side, providing a straight path to the kitchen tucked in the far corner.

"Mama, look!" Fiona exclaimed, clattering across the faded wood floors. "I got a customer!"

As she turned to study the panes on the narrow windows flanking either side of the door, Evelyn's lips quirked into a smile at the girl's excitement. The windows were smudged and in need of a good polishing, but she could see through them to the road outside where rain was gathering in between the cobblestones and bouncing off the roofs of the adjacent buildings. As eager as she was to explore the rest of the city and get her bearings, the temptation to stay near the fire grew with each passing moment.

Archie gave a low hoot, his talons digging into Evelyn's shoulder. She shushed him, already knowing what it was he thought to say.

"It's fine," she whispered. "It's just temporary, and look how happy we made her." She nudged her chin toward the kitchen, where Fiona was excitedly chattering with her mother.

After a few moments, the faun came over and welcomed Evelyn properly, as Fiona scampered a step behind. She introduced herself as Aggy, and repeated much of what Fiona had already told her. She was kind enough, but there was a wariness in her large, doe eyes that gave Evelyn pause.

"Is it all right to have him here," she asked as Aggy glanced at Archie for the third time.

"I, uh, suppose. Now, let me show you to your room. Is that all you have with you?" she asked, gesturing at the leather satchel slung across Evelyn's body and the damp bedroll strapped to her back.

Evelyn nodded and patted the side of the bag. If only the woman knew just how much she kept stuffed inside its enchanted pockets. "Just this."

"Hmm. All right, well, this way. Fiona, go and mind the bread!"

The young faun looked crestfallen, but hurried to do as her mother bade.

A few minutes later, Evelyn was tucked into her room, her first three nights paid for in advance. It was not quite as expensive as the inn they'd found on the road, and for six rivermarks, she'd covered the cost of the three nights' stay and supper each night. She was already eagerly awaiting the chance to try the molasses bread Fiona mentioned.

As expected, the room was not up to Archie's exacting standards, but Evelyn had no trouble settling in, and inadvertently drifted off to sleep as the afternoon sun shone through the smudged window, the crumbs of her blackberry tart and seed-encrusted roll spilling across the front of her dress.

Evelyn roused from her unplanned nap not long before supper was due to be served. She fussed with her hair and did her best to smooth the creases and crumbs from her dress before donning her cloak, grabbing her satchel, and going downstairs to the dining room. It was evident that requesting a meal ahead of time was the right choice, as she found every table already occupied, save for one, and a line of patrons gathered just inside the entry, their eyes flicking between the kitchen and those already dining.

Fiona bolted toward her and showed her to the sole unoccupied table, and Evelyn could feel the disgruntled customers eyeing her. "This one is just for you, Evelyn," the faun said with an air of importance.

"Thank you."

"Does your friend need his own water glass?" Fiona asked.

Before Evelyn could answer, she heard Fiona's mother shouting for her to come to the kitchen. The faun waved at Evelyn and Archie, then scampered through the dining room.

A broad-shouldered orc stood behind the bar, serving the patrons dotting the battered wooden stools. His skin was a sallow green color, his hair and full beard black as night. He glanced in her direction a time or two, his black eyes cold, and Evelyn quickly looked away. It was hard not to feel intimidated by the orc's powerful jaws and pointed tusks, even more so when such a sour expression accompanied them.

Evelyn kept her eyes on her own table, which thankfully was easy to do as Fiona raced out with a full basket of sliced bread and a crock of whipped butter.

The young faun's promises rang true as Evelyn bit into the molasses bread and had to keep from groaning out loud at the sheer perfection of it. The crust had just the right amount of crunch, while leaving the insides soft and yet also somehow chewy. There were sweet notes from the molasses, but she found them well balanced, especially when combined with the salt from the creamed butter.

The stew that followed was every bit as good, and Evelyn asked for a second bowl before she could even worry if that was improper or not. After spending the better part of a fortnight on the road, eating dried meats and bits of hard cheese and foraged fruit, she would have happily licked the bottom of the pot clean after everyone else had their fill.

Archie watched her with a look bordering on disgust. "Do keep in mind that if you get too full to walk, I cannot carry you to bed."

She laughed and buttered another piece of bread. "Noted."

The other diners seemed too engrossed with their own meals to pay much attention to the eccentric woman dining with her owl. Or perhaps the sight was more commonplace than she might have imagined. After all, merchants and ships came from all around the kingdom, if not even farther than that, bringing their own customs and culture… and perhaps companions, to the harbor.

Fiona brought out the second bowl of stew and another basket of bread, causing Evelyn's stomach to rumble in anticipation. However, the moment she lifted her spoon the door of the inn burst open, knocking into two of the waiting patrons, who shouted in surprise.

A plump woman with a round face and a pinched expression hurried inside, offering a distracted apology to those she'd inadvertently crashed into, as she made a beeline for the kitchen.

Evelyn sat up a little straighter in her seat .

"Aggy, is Jarvis here?" the woman asked, rising onto her toes to peer at the tables, her brows knit with consternation.

Fiona's mother emerged from the kitchen, a ladle in one hand. "Paulette? Is everything?—"

"I need Jarvis!" she exclaimed, her pale cheeks flushed with red. The faun flinched back and the woman crumpled, wringing her hands together. "I'm sorry, Aggy. It's just—Dora's daughter, she's taken ill."

Concern showed in the faun woman's eyes. "I'm afraid Jarvis isn't here. I haven't seen him yet this week. He may be up at the mountain settlement."

The woman's mouth pinched tightly together, feathery lines appearing around quivering lips.

"What's happened to Dora's child?" Aggy asked, placing a steadying hand on the woman's arm.

The woman's eyes went wide and glossy. "She has a fever that won't break. I've tried everything, and it's only grown worse. She's starting to see things that aren't there, and I worry she's—" The woman bit off her words.

Evelyn set down her spoon.

"Evelyn?" Archie hooted, craning his head around. Then, lowering his voice further, he added, "You cannot get involved."

Evelyn shot him a dark look and set her napkin to the side of her bowl. The stew was still steaming, the plump potatoes and carrots and bits of herbs impatient to be devoured. And then there was the warm bed on the inn's second floor, piled with quilts. Aggy had also mentioned something about preparing her a hot bath for an extra two fernels…

Across the room, the woman sobbed into Aggy's shoulder.

Evelyn rose to her feet, ignoring Archie's final warning hoot .

She cleared her throat and swept around the table, abandoning her meal and cozy place beside the hearth. With soft but sure steps, she approached the two women and cleared her throat. "Take me to the child. I can help."