Realta Haar lost sight of her father as she walked through the bustling marketplace. Hundreds of merchants and travelers had arrived in the small village for the annual Springtide Festival, the mark of the new year and the start of trade season. Vendors, occupying every available space in the market, cried out their wares, claiming their goods were better than the ones in the neighboring stall. People, more than she could count, crowded around her. Elbows jostling. Strangers staring.

She maneuvered through the crowd, breaking away at the market's edge. Breathing room.

Where could her father have gone? He had been by her side just a moment ago. And what of Master and Mistress Loy? And her aunt and uncle, for that matter. She had only turned away for a few seconds.

She glanced back at the market. People flooded her vision. Some were dressed in simple farming clothes and wore familiar faces. Others wore colorful cloaks and dresses made of fine silk. Wealthy merchants from the eastern side of the river hoping to be the first to cross Caman's Pass.

A creeping feeling seized Realta, like vines growing over her skin. A feeling she got whenever somebody was watching her. Of course somebody was watching her, she rationalized. Hundreds of people were in the market alone, and likely hundreds more in the village. A few were bound to be looking in her direction. She shouldn't be so paranoid.

She turned and locked eyes with a tall man standing on the other side of the main road. The man had closely cropped black hair and wore a dark blue, knee-length coat. A patch with a flying raven was sown on the coat's left shoulder. At his waist rested a scabbard painted black and blue. He had one hand on the hilt of his sword. The man stared at her, eyes wide and... Confused? Yes, confused. The emotional melted away, replaced by a predatory smile. Realta was suddenly grateful for the crowd.

The man broke away his gaze and continued down the road. A red earring pierced his ear. He headed for Tolman's Inn, sparing a single glance over his shoulder. Realta shivered.

"Realta!"

She screamed, jumping and spinning around. Behind her stood Charity Loy, hazel eyes bright with her ever-present smile.

"Found you." Realta's best friend folded her arms in triumph, as though this had been a game.

"Did you see that man?" Realta asked, her voice shaking. Why did Charity have to sneak up on her? "The man with red earrings?"

"No, but I did see a man with a hawk tattoo on his forehead. Why?"

"He looked at me weird." Realta's face grew warm. Where had her father gone? She scanned the crowd. Hundreds of faces. Perhaps that was a good thing. With so many people in Vala, her odds of running into him again were quite low.

"Weird how?"

The creeping feeling returned, crawling up the back of her neck. "Do you know where my father is?"

"I heard my father mention having business in Tolman's Inn. Your father must have gone with him."

Of course. Master Loy would want his servant with him while conducting business, as a witness if nothing else. Tolman's Inn. The same place that creepy man went. Well, if he tried to start something, Callum Haar would end it.

"Let's go over there," Charity said, grabbing Realta by the arm and leading her to a nearby vendor. Realta spied a girl with a blue ribbon in her black hair watching over a younger boy. Daisy and Rain Nortine, her and Charity's closest friends in the village. Well, Daisy was their friend. Her younger brother just tagged along.

"Look at this thing!" Rain exclaimed, taking a strange implement off the merchant's table and waving one end in Daisy's face. The implement was made of two cylindrical pieces of smoothed wood held together by a short length of rope, about as long as a man's hand.

"Hey lad!" yelled the merchant, a scrawny man with a patch of hair missing. His accent gave him away as Lowyrnic. "What on this world do ya think you're doing?" He snatched the object out of Rain's hand.

"He was just looking," Daisy retorted, hands on her hips.

"Just looking? Ya think this is a toy?" He shook the object in their faces.

Rain shrugged. Daisy acknowledged Charity and Realta's presence with a quick nod, then turned her focus back on the merchant.

The merchant called over to the vendor, a fruit seller, in the neighboring stall. "Hey, Jiselle, lemme see one of them sun melons."

The other merchant, a stout woman with gray hair, glared at him.

"Don't give me them eyes, woman. I'll reimburse ya."

Jiselle rolled her eyes and handed the man a pale melon about the size of a person's head.

"Ya see," the merchant explained. Realta stepped closer to get a better look. "These are Sykerian strikers. The deadliest weapon in the South Lands. Used by the personal guards of the Empress herself." Holding onto one piece of wood, the merchant raised the strikers over his head and slammed the other end down onto the melon. The unsuspecting fruit burst open, bits of rind and juice splattering on the small crowd.

Realta jumped back, wiping the orange remains off her face and dress. Rain screamed, clutching his older sister by the arm. Daisy glared at the man. Likely, he'd be paid a visit by Mistress Nortine before the day was done.

"How much?" asked Charity, pointing at the weapon.

"Charity!" Realta exclaimed.

"What?"

"You really think your parents would let you have something like that?"

"Why not? You're the one complaining about people staring. With those, nobody will ever bother you again."

Realta studied the strikers. Bits of melon dripped off one end. "But still..."

"Spies! Assassins!"

Heart leaping into her throat, Realta hid behind Charity. Daisy, grabbing Rain by the hand, took off running. Others froze in their steps. Travelers and merchants exchanged worried looks and searched for signs of danger. Locals merely stopped to watch.

Across the street, the village healer, Darran Zall, had burst out of his small house, the door slamming against the wall. Dozens of eyes fixed on Zall, watching him attack insects with a rolled-up piece of paper.

"They'll kill us all! Assassins!" He slammed the paper onto the porch railing, smashing a fly to bits.

"Stars above," said the Lowyrnic merchant, his voice barely audible over the screaming. "The mad healer lives."

"You assumed he was dead?" Charity questioned.

The merchant muttered something in Lowyrnic, wiping away the melon and placing the strikers along with his other wares. He called out to the crowd, which had lost interest once everyone identified the source of the screaming.

"Let's go to Tolman's Inn," said Realta, struggled to keep a steady voice. She had known Darran Zall her whole life, but like everyone else in Vala, did her best to maintain a healthy distance. Most people, men and women, went to her aunt for medical help, though Esme Haar primarily worked as a midwife. But Esme lived outside of the village. When it came to emergencies, Zall was usually the only choice. "Maybe your father finished his business."

"Good idea," Charity replied with a smile. She crossed the main road and headed straight for the healer's house.

"What are you doing?" Realta whispered.

"I have a question."

"Does it have to be for him?" Zall continued swatting bugs, adding colorful swears to his accusations of spies. Realta noticed the blacksmith's wife speaking with Esme and pointing at the healer. With a quick nod, Esme hurried towards him. She was one of only a handful who could calm the man.

Realta then looked down the road to the inn. She could leave right now and look for her father by herself. Aunt Esme would make sure no harm came to Charity, and she had gone to the inn numerous times. Mistress Tolman was always kind and even-tempered. Nothing to fear.

What if Red Earrings is still in there?

Gritting her teeth, she kept pace with Charity. Mindful to stay one step behind her.

"A joyous Springtide to you, Healer Zall," Charity said at the same time Esme reached the house. She eyed the healer warily.

The rolled paper raised, the grizzled man glared at Charity with piercing, dark eyes. He pointed at her and said, "You. The Loy girl. And not the rude one. Yes, that is joyous." He lowered the paper, noticing Esme.

"I have a small question."

"What?"

"Why do you consider flies to be assassins?"

Zall smiled, baring his perfect teeth. "Have you ever been in a surgery, girl?"

Charity shook his head. "Not yet."

"You see," Zall said, walking down the short steps. Realta moved closer to her aunt, wishing Charity would do the same. "When a wound isn't cleaned and bandaged properly, it risks infection, and that attracts flies. After the flies begin biting the wound, it starts to fester. Now, if festering occurs on an arm or a leg, the limb can be amputated and the patient lives. Most of the time. But a torso wound, that can't be fixed by the same method. Infection spreads. The patient dies. A surgery full of flies is the last place you want to be."

Charity nodded, smiling. "Thank you, Healer Zall. That was very informative."

And very gross. Can we go now?

"And what of you, midwife?" Zall asked Esme. "Is that Seltachai husband of yours around here?"

"Yes, and we are quite well. How are you today?" Healer Zall's addled mind had associated Realta's uncle with a blood drinking creature from folk tales that read people's minds for reasons that were purely his own. Most of his respect for Esme came from the fact that she was married to a monster.

"It's the flies," he replied, eyes wide. "Every Springtide brings flies. And people call today joyous. It's insanity!"

"Do you want help?" she asked, walking towards the steps.

"From you?" The healer shrugged. "Better than half these idiots," he gestured towards the marketplace. He disappeared into his house, muttering under his breath.

Esme gave Realta and Charity a quick nod, as though to say, "I will take it from here", and followed the healer inside. Realta wished she had an ounce of her aunt's bravery.

Charity, bouncing on the balls of her feet, headed for Tolman's Inn.

"Why did you talk to him?" Realta asked, keeping her voice low. She could have easily asked Esme the same question and gotten the same answer.

"Why not?"

Realta sighed. She ought to know better than to question Charity Loy.

A steady stream of people entered and exited Tolman's Inn. The inn contained over twenty rooms, and at three stories, it was the tallest building in Vala. But during Springtide, too many people visited the village for the inn to hold. Latecomers had to rent spare rooms in the nearby tavern or in people's homes and barns. The Loys sometimes hosted people, but not often. Merchants did not want to stay that far from the village center.

The common room was completely full, every table occupied. Some had to stand while eating their midday meal. Vera Tolman, a lithe woman with sharp brown eyes, moved about the common room, checking on guests and making sure the serving girls were not being overworked.

A lanky young man with a shock of dark brown hair exited the kitchen door. Lok Tolman, Vera's only son, balanced two plates of food, one in each hand. Quickly scanning the room, he scurried over to a table where two men sat, passing the roaring fireplace.

Odd. The day was quite warm for Springtide. That fire did not need to be so large.

Lok placed the food in front of the men, Sardic Loy, Charity's father, and Symund Ritt, the village's master carpenter. So that's who Master Loy had business with. Likely discussing repairs for the farmhouse's front porch steps. She and Charity walked over to them.

"Hello, my dear," said Master Loy, seeing his youngest daughter. The large man smiled, nearly splitting his bearded face in two. His hazel eyes, the same mixture of green and light brown as Charity's, shone in the light. "Had your fill of the market for today?"

"Not yet. Realta wanted to know if you'd seen her father. And a joyous Springtide to you, Master Ritt."

The balding man returned the greeting.

"Callum was in here a moment ago," said Master Loy, glancing around the crowded space. "Well, he can't have wandered far."

"Hello, Charity and Realta. How are you today?" asked Vera Tolman, walking up to the table.

"Very well, thank you," Charity replied. Realta merely nodded. Being surrounded by people in the open market was one thing, but the enclosed common room was making her feel claustrophobic.

"Wonderful. And you, Sardic and Symund? Did that project up in Lothian pan out?"

"Still waiting on the letter," Master Ritt replied.

"Can't ask for a better day for Springtide," replied Master Loy. "Blue skies, warm sun. But do you have to have the fire so hot?"

"Fire?" Mistress Tolman turned towards the fireplace. Lok, in his awkward way, ambled between people, passing the fireplace. A man stopped him, asking a question. Lok shook his head and pointed at the kitchen door, but the man was insistent. The flames leapt up. A crack sounded as a log split in half. "Lok!"

The boy jumped, turning wide eyes towards his mother.

"Why have you got the fire going? Put it out."

Lok complied, grabbing the empty water bucket and ducking into the kitchen. He nearly collided with a serving girl in the process.

"Sorry about that. You know Lok," Mistress Tolman said with a pained smile.

"Not a problem."

"Realta," Charity nudged her with her elbow, "didn't you say that weird man had red earrings?"

"Yes." Oh, no.

"He's over there, talking to your father." Charity pointed towards the back corner. Sure enough, Red Earrings took the seat opposite Callum Haar. Her father seemed more interested in his pint of ale than the other man.

Realta contemplated her next move. She had wanted to find Callum, and she had. But she also wanted to avoid Red Earrings, avoid his predatory stares. But why had this man taken an interest in her father? Curiosity overriding fear, she walked towards the small table.

"Can I help you, sir?" asked Callum, taking a sip.

"I need to hire a guide to take my team through Caman's Pass," Red Earrings explained. His voice was not as deep as Realta imagined. Instead, it was a bit raspy, and he spoke with an odd inflection.

"I'm sure there are plenty of guides up for the task."

"I hear you're one of the best."

Callum sighed. He had worked as a guide before working for Master Loy, helping merchants and travelers cross the mountain pass. As custom, Caman's Pass opened today and would remain open until Autumntide. Conditions up in the mountains were too dangerous during winter. "I'm retired."

"I will pay you however much you want. Name your price." The man leaned forward, eyes fixed on Callum.

"That's not possible." Callum rolled up his sleeve. On his left wrist were tattooed two thin bands, the width of Realta's little finger. Inside the bands were two diamonds, the mark of an indentured servant. "I'm under contract."

The man grimaced. "I'll buy you out. My employer promised to pay any expense, so long as our task is complete."

"No thanks. My master is a good man. And if this task is so important, why am I speaking to you and not your employer?"

"My employer is back in East Bridge. A thief has stolen invaluable items from his house and his best horse. My team was hired to track her down, and I fear she's going through the Pass. If I don't hire a guide by this evening, we will lose her."

Callum calmly took another sip of ale. "Is that the best story you can come up with?"

Red Earrings looked at him, aghast. "You think I'm lying?"

"Come on. You claim a thief stole something from someone and now said thief just so happens to be right here in Vala, or close enough."

"It is the truth. Most of it." The man's face grew red, his blue eyes burning. "Look, I have it on damned good authority that this thief is heading through Caman's Pass, and it's my job to catch her and bring her to justice in Teyrnas."

"I thought it was East Bridge," Callum smiled.

Realta inched closer to her father. Red Earrings grew angrier by the second. She knew Callum could handle himself in a fight, but she had no desire to see one start.

Red Earrings collected himself. "She was originally in Teyrnas. She stole one of the king's horses, and my team was hired to find her. A week later, that horse was discovered in a stable belonging to a silversmith in East Bridge, his own horse having been stolen."

"So she's wanted in both East Bridge and Teyrnas. Why not just say that?"

"This information is sensitive, and..." The man finally noticed Realta standing at Callum's side. That leering smile returned. Imaginary vines tugged at her skin, crawling up the back of her head, down her arms.

Father is right there. He won't let anything bad happen.

"Is this your daughter?" the man asked.

"Yes." Realta's presence did not surprise Callum in the least. All those years as a guide had trained him to notice small details and changes.

"I can see the resemblance." Not that their resemblance was hard to miss. Realta and her father had coal black hair, dark brown eyes, and a ruddy skin tone that was common in the Hinterlands. As well as angular faces and slightly oval eyes.

Callum polished off the rest of his ale and stood. "I must be going. My master has finished his business here." Realta turned and saw Master Loy shaking hands with the carpenter.

"Please reconsider." The man stood, placing a hand on his sword hilt. Realta stiffened, but he made no move to draw the weapon. A reflex, then. "The reward for this thief's capture and return will be enough for you and your daughter to live in comfort for the rest of your lives."

"I'm sure it is," Callum replied with a hint of sarcasm. "Wait. Did you say return?"

"Well, yes."

"So not only do you want me to leave my master without any notice to go traveling in the Pass, but you also want me to journey all the way to Teyrnas. Sorry, no deal, Master..."

"Kanton. Dane Kanton, Captain of the—"

"A joyous Springtide to you, Master Kanton." He turned to leave, placing a gentle hand on Realta's shoulder. "Come, Realta. Let's see what your cousins are up to."

"Master Haar!" Kanton called out. Several eyes looked his way.

"That is not my title."

Red faced, Kanton stormed out of the common room. Two other men wearing the same dark blue coats with a raven insignia met him at the door.

"Well?" asked one.

Kanton shoved him out of the doorway, exiting the inn. The other man shrugged, and the two quickly followed Kanton. The crowd murmured about the incident briefly, then resumed their normal conversations. It was none of their business.

"What was that about?" asked Master Loy, cocking a thumb towards the door.

"A child who doesn't like hearing the word 'no'."

Master Loy laughed, a deep-chested sound that echoed off the common room's walls. Everyone turned to see him, many smiling in return. Any lingering uneasy dissipated. "Well, to the Abyss with him, then. Come! Let's see what the rest of the family is up to." Master Loy paid the serving girl and led the way to the main road, Callum walking in step with him. Realta and Charity trailed a pace behind.

"What did the Earring Man want with your father?"

Realta told her about the thief.

"That's so weird. Why not contact the guardsmen at Watchtower? They have the final say of who can enter the Pass."

"Good point." Dane Kanton could have traveled the extra fifteen miles to Watchtower, given the guardsmen the thief's description or a drawing, and they would have taken care of the rest. All Kanton and his team had to do was wait. No need to single out her father. Callum hadn't gone through Caman's Pass since Realta was a baby. Ask one of the younger, and not to mention active, guides.

"There's Mother," Charity pointed. Aida Loy and Charity's two older sisters, Nina and Bridget, stood in front of a vendor's stall. Leather-bound books were stacked all over the table. Realta's Uncle Kel and her cousins, Gareth and Estrid, were with them, though Kel stood off to the side with the hood of his cloak up. The collection of scars on the left side of his face tended to draw stares.

Charity waved at the group.

Mistress Loy waved back, motioning them to come closer. The merchant smiled, seeing the crowd double.

"Look at this, my dear," Mistress Loy said to her husband, holding up a book. "Tobert's Complete History of the Kings of Teyrnas. And only priced at one silver piece."

"Only one silver?" said Master Loy as he inspected the book. "Why, that's a steal!"

All the books in the world would not be enough for Mistress Loy. Every shelf at the farmhouse was bursting with them. Esme and Kel, both educated at the Academy and eager to keep learning, took full advantage of the reading material.

Esme glided over, wrapping her arms around Kel's thin shoulders.

"I hear Zall's in another one of his moods," Kel whispered.

"You have good hearing, my love."

"Think it will help if I talk to him?" A hint of a smile crept into his voice.

"I doubt that."

"Esme," said Mistress Loy, handing the book over to her, "this is an extended volume. It includes King Logan."

"Really?"

As Esme flipped to the end of the book, Callum whispered in Kel's ear, too faintly for Realta to hear. The scarred man nodded.

Realta caught a flash of movement on her left side. She spied Dane Kanton standing several yards away, glaring at her and her father, that predatory smiled plastered on his face. One hand gripped the hilt of his sword. Realta reached for her father.

Before she could draw Callum's attention, Kanton had disappeared into the crowd.