CHAPTER TEN

The shoe shop was far too fancy for how far north of Majikast we were. Although, that was only an assumption. I'd never been south enough to visit the seat of the Centralized Magical Arcanacracy's power. Stone pillars rose up to either side of the door, but they were decorative rather than supportive. Carved into them, with a level of detail I had never seen before, were images so perfect for a moment I wondered if they were the real thing, only shrunk down and placed on the column.

"It's... so... so..." Mallow elbowed a few people out of the way, until she crouched down next to the bottom of the pillar and follow it up with her eyes. She put a protective arm around me after I got jostled by a passerby. We weren't the only ones taken in by it, but a reluctant bubble formed around us from people not wanting to stand too closely to her.

"I've never seen anything like this," I murmured. It took my mind a moment to catch up with what my eyes were viewing. I realized now they were raised sculptures of shoes and cobbling supplies. The shoes at the bottom were crude and simple, like what peasants might wear. Little more than leather thong sandals or simple, rough boots. They were carved with such intricate attention to detail I could see the precise stitch that held the heel on the banana-style boot together.

Mallow reached out, unable to resist. Her fingertip pressed against the seam of the boot and her eyes went wide.

"You know.... I... I can feel the threads, I swear." She pulled her finger back, and then grinned. "It's like I was pressing my hand against a real shoe, except cast into stone or something." She held it up for me to see. Sure enough, indented in the pure white of her fingertip were crossing strings.

My eyes followed the shoes upward, and they became more intricate. I recognized the sorts of shoes that shopkeepers and craftspeople wore. More buckles, more ornamentation. Some had simple embroidery like a worker's wife might adorn a favorite pair of boots with. Others were sporting initials. At this point I noticed animals lining the sides of the pillars. I saw at the bottom there were cows, but as I skimmed upward, other creatures came into sight. Gentle calves and sheep. As I passed into what could only be the footwear of Arcanacrats. The shoes were decorated with impractical buckles, baubles, ribbons, and delicate little cross sections of fabric that would snap under the slightest stress without the aid of magic. The animals became exotic. The reclusive Lilynibbler bird, the rare six legged Hexasteer. I didn't recognize most of them. At the very top of the pillar, a dragon curled, its wings folded to form a rounded cap. I only knew that one from Proving stories.

Mallow knocked the wind out of me as she jumped. From my new vantage point in the dirt I saw the door next to us had opened. A gaggle of well-dressed people left, their perfume hitting us like a wave of flowers. Many of them had darker skin, and they were talking. The words were recognizable, but the accent was weird. At the tail end of the group was a man, rotund and far too finely dressed for a merchant. If it wasn't for his apron, and the calipers and measuring tape peeking out from his pocket, I wouldn't have guessed his job. His skin was of the more local rosy-colored shade. His accent was more familiar when he said to the group, "Now enjoy the rest of the city! Make sure to stop in and say hello to my father; he would be so cross if you didn't!"

Half the crowd, the ones that were waiting on the edges and not eagerly leaning forward, departed with the dark skinned shoppers who had left. Must have been servants. Even with that, there was still quite a crowd gathered around the pillars. Of those people, no one made a move toward the now open door. A smile sprung up beneath his wispy brown mustache. His grin was pure charisma, although he was neither handsome nor ugly. He was plain enough to resemble the friend or family member of anyone. A universal, unassuming face. I was envious. If only I had such a trustworthy face I would earn every customer's instant trust. Instead I was lean and intimidatingly handsome.

"Lovely, aren't they? I am flattered you admire my shop so." He gestured to the pillars and he flashed a row of small white teeth at us. So neat, so even, so... white. "Though, of course, the real art is inside. I mean, you have all come here so the latest and greatest in fashionable footwear can be yours!" He stepped out of the way, and his arms swept up toward the open door. A few people took him up on his offer and stepped toward the door.

"Did you do these?" Mallow blurted. The man's lips pressed in a wide line as his head dropped a little, swallowed the question he had intended to ask. A temporary break in his sales face brought me satisfaction, until he recovered by standing taller than ever.

"No, those were commissioned from the great sorcerer artist Utigaud." A grin even bigger than before dominated his round features. "Some refer to me as the Utigaud of shoes." He gestured to his chest. "I'm Bernard, expert cordswainer, at your service."

There was a small gasp from the couple next to me, and they repeated the name 'Utigaud' over and over again in excitement.

"I need shoes!" Mallow declared. "This is going to be perfect.—" Mallow took a step forward, and I hooked a hand into her elbow.

"Mallow, this place is pretty pricey." If that Utigaud guy was a real deal, like the people who were murmuring about him implied,. this was a high end store. The objects kept behind the safety of walls would cost more than this decoration left outside to the mercy of passers-by and the elements. Anything a sorcerer's hand had touched was bound to be pricey. Those people that left were probably from the capital, or one of the cities near it, which would explain the weird accents. That's why they'd be able to afford this.

"So? We have tons of coin." She frowned.

"So I want to have some left over to eat, I don't want to spend it all here—"

"Miss?" Bernard stepped forward, and a few more passed behind him. Gasps of awe burst from the patrons inside. Definitely not a good sign for us. "I hate to interrupt, but I'd like you to know..." he rubbed his hands together, and then parted them gently. "...you're not obliged to buy anything. In fact, you're doing me a favor by considering my creations. It would be an honor to have such a unique beauty visit my humble store. I've never met one of your kind with such impeccable manners or grace." He didn't even stumble over the word unique. He made Mallow's Moon Gianthood sound like a good thing, and not because she was terrifying. I'd done the same with people's unusual appearances, especially with women, but never with an unfamiliar monster. He was so smooth. Ugh!

Mallow's white cheeks dimmed to a cool gray as her blood rushed to them in a blush. She had never been called beautiful. I was now kicking myself for not doing it so often that she would be numb to such words.

"I'm going in, dad." Without any effort, she broke her elbow free from my hand. My fingers grasped at air. "It's free to look." She walked in, Bernard ignored the rest of the customers that parted to make room for her as she ducked down to fit inside the entrance. She stood up a second later; the ceiling inside was taller than the door. I heard the Utigaud fans fill the vacant space behind me and discuss the pillar. There wasn't a lot of room in the shop. Bernard was answering all of Mallow's questions, like how he thought up his ideas. On the threshold, unable to get further in, I paused. The people behind me groaned, but I needed a minute to collect my thoughts. I let the noise of the crowd fade into nothing more than indistinct waves.

Because of her special treatment, Mallow's shopping experience promised to take a long time. As I already had very nice shoes of my own. I had no interest in wasting money buying a new pair when some sorcerer or Avalon keeled over and had an estate sale nearly every day. Watching Mallow shop also promised to be very boring. Assuming Bernard ever finished showing her the goods - and though I couldn't really see through the crowd, dozens of shelves were displayed against the walls - he would still have to measure Mallow. That'd be a feat in and of itself. Then there would be small talk and endless indecision about cloth, style, embellishments...

And then it'd come time to order, and she wouldn't have enough coin, and that would be that. All she'd do was waste Bernard's time if I wasn't there with most of our coin. Bernard's extravagant wealth made me think he could stand to have his time wasted for one afternoon. It's not healthy to have too much success without setbacks, especially if you're not me.

"Mallow, I'm going to go..." While I grinned I thought of a good cover. "Find some more sculptures..." Why not? Maybe this town was a tourist spot, and lots of artwork was scattered around. And even if there wasn't, I could go scope out how much competition and how many potential customers there were. "Yes, I'm going to find some more artwork around town. I'll be back later."

"Okay." She was completely dismissive, didn't even glance back at me.. "See if you can't find me some jewelry."

"Jewelry?"

"Everyone's dressed up for the festival, she's probably getting jealous," Bernard said. "Though all the pearls in the world can't make them glow like you do." I heard Bernard add. He was short and there were a lot of people between us. "That reminds me of a fabric made from the skin of a rare deep sea squid that—"

With my most fervent and insincere profusions, I promised to do what I could do about Mallow's jewelry situation. She didn't respond and so I disentangled myself from the shoe shop crowd. After pushing my way to the edge of the crowd and back to the main street, I stretched my arms. There wasn't much space. The streets which before were claustrophobic were barren in comparison to the compact nature in the shop. I began to whistle, free without the burden of Mallow, the carriage, or even the need to avoid old customers.

Early on in my walk, I stopped and moved my coin purse to the secret secondary pouch I had on the inside of my boot, about halfway down. It'd make it awkward to buy something quickly, but seeing about four people get pick-pocketed in less than ten minutes didn't make me confident.

It was nice to be in a city once again. We had been mostly hitting villages and towns lately, and it'd been a good two to three years since we'd been to one this size. A contractor's office and a cabaret caught my eye, though I would only ever consider using the cabaret. I thought about ducking in, but I'm sure Mallow would be busy some other time this week. I'd get my chance later; there was still too much to explore, mostly houses with general stores and pubs, a bank...

The roar of a crowd caught my attention. People were packed together. This crowd was different than the one in front of Bernard's shoe store. That crowd had been playful. This one was desperate, anxiety buzzed through the air.

Figuring where there were people there was something interesting happening, I hurried over to where they were all huddled. I shouldered my way as roughly as was civilized deeper into the writhing mass. Soon, I got close enough to ask what the fuss was about and not be answered by some icicle like me who lining up for the sake of lining up.

"The Avalons are giving food to the needy and infirm," a man said. Ugh, not Avalons. Those pests were everywhere! Still... free grub...

"What sort of food?" I asked.

"It's in celebration of Reglar's Age Day, so pretty good stuff," he said. "I saw some cheeses, white breads, and even imported fruits on their table."

"Imported fruits?" I asked.

"Oranges," another person piped from behind me. "I heard that's what one of those are called."

I licked my lips, remembering the only other orange I'd ever eaten. I was fourteen, and I'd gotten it for my own age day when the ranch was doing well. It had been like eating a piece of the sun, sweet sugary taste melting on my tongue as it prickled it with a foreign tartness. I had never quite forgotten the experience.

"Thanks for the information." I pushed forward into the crowd again. The man who had been talking to me laughed.

"You really think you're going to get one?" he asked. "You're not infirm, or needy, or a child. They're not going to give you anything, young man." Well, I had some mixed feelings about that, what with being insulted and complimented in the same breath. However, none of those feelings gave me any doubt in my plan.

"Just watch," I taunted, then I skimmed the crowd. I counter-intuitively moved toward the back of the group, where those not strong or big enough to push toward the front were. Stupid, wintery Avalons. They want to help the neediest, not realizing that those least able to fight for themselves can never make it through the crowd to get to them. I knew better than them though. I knew how the world worked.

I spied a sickly little woman. Red welts ran up and down her arms - I hoped from disease rather than abuse. She had on clothes that were more patches than fabric. Her face was thin and narrow and plain. She was nudging against the large backside of a man pushing a wheelbarrow in which sat a man with no legs.

Each time she'd make headway, the crowd would compact and shove her back out again. She complied for fear of being crushed. Frustrated tears welled up in her eyes. She was only ninety pounds, she was never going to make it through that crowd. Her hand fell to the largest part of her, a softly rounded stomach.

Ah, not quite a child, too soon a woman. She didn't even care about the fine white bread. She was shrouded by the same sorrow of the poor mothers in villages who had come to me. She wanted a blessing, an enchantment to assure her soon-to-be child's health.

Avalon Insurance. The icicle would pass on the food all together.

I mulled over my pitch in my mind a few times, before I strolled up to her.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" I said, voice dripping with deference. She didn't respond for a second. I repeated my query, and she brought her wide, misery-rounded eyes up to mine. She was surprised that someone was acknowledging her.

"Y-yes?" she asked timidly. I jerked my head toward the crowd.

"It's tough, you needing to be careful..." I said. "You can't compete with all of that savageness."

I continued. She huffed, hugging her scabbed elbows.

"Yah." It was a murmur.

"You need a strong man to get through this mess. Where is he?" I asked, shading my eyes with my hand and looking around. I knew well that the frigid man who had done this to her wouldn't be out here to help anytime soon.

"No man," she said. "I'm on my own." Her bottom lip wobbled. Exhaustion was eating away at her edges. Better cut the show short, in this case.

"Well, if that's the case and I wouldn't be offending anyone's honor..." I inclined my head. "I may not be a gentlemen, but I'd like to help you," I said. "What would you say if I gave you enough gold to not only travel to the capital, but schedule an appointment with one of the student Avalon's at the Academy to ensure you, and your child's, health?"

"W-What do you want in exchange?" She took a hesitant step back. She was scared of me. Her hand dropped to her stomach. "I... I already told one of those men in black, I'm not... it's not for sale... and if you're not interested in the baby... my love's not for sale either." Her voice was weak, but threaded with resolve. Confusion flooded me for only a second. The second part was easy, some men paid women who were too poor to say no when said men were either too ugly, outside or in, to get women to sleep

with them through actual romance. Men like that came from all classes, drunkard to merchant to sorcerer. That accusation made sense, although it wasn't what I had in mind. The first one...

Why would somebody ask about her baby? Humanoid trading was illegal, had been forever, as far as I knew. Had she really received such a distasteful, not to mention illegal offer? I had a good reason to bend the rules and lie, I'd starve if I didn't, but making people property was a truly repugnant offense. I hoped it had only been a mean-spirited joke. If she was already scared, I had to be careful to make this work.

"If I got you to the front of the line, all I'd ask is you get me an orange," I said. "It'd be the round, yellow-red colored fruit." I reached into my boot with some effort and extracted the bag of coin. I opened it and let the sunlight hit it, bouncing around the metallic discs. It wasn't so much, but enough that her chest rose as she caught her breath.

"You... could buy one yourself, with all that money?" She guessed, her voice unsure. She'd never seen an orange before. She had no idea what they were worth.

"But I'm craving one now, and they take so long to bring this far inland," I said.

She regarded the crowd, her narrow face tightened with apprehension.

"But how would you get me to the front of the line?" she asked.

"Well, I'm bigger. I'd carry you in my arms, and you kick with your feet and slap with your hands, or shield your stomach. Whatever sounds good." I tucked the coin back away. Her gaunt features shifted skeptically. It wasn't my best plan, I admit, but it was better than hers of standing out here and wasting away.

"Why would they give charity to a woman with a strong husband?" She asked.

"I'll be a kindly stranger. I mean, I am just that." I lowered my eyes. "Honesty is the best policy, after all."

She glanced toward the crowd.

"They will run out of food at any moment. If you do not wish to get enough coin for the enchantment..." I shrugged. "I will not pester you further." I stepped back from her. "Good evening ma'am."

I walked away. The classic time constraint. Do or die. Or, in the salesmen world, buy or die. I began the countdown in my head. 5... 4... 3... 2... She cried after me when I wasn't even ten strides away and then begged for me to help. I made her promise to exchange the orange for the coin for the blessing. She agreed. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. I'd been in her place before. She'd never seen so much coin in her life. She was destroyed with regret over almost letting me leave.

Several moments of awkward positioning later, she was in my arms. I was pummeling through the crowd toward the front. It was a hard. With her able to focus on shielding her stomach as I carried her, she didn't ask to retreat. She kicked, elbowed, and bit two people who shoved in on us from the sides, I managed to make it to the front with her.

There were four Avalons seated across several tables. A small barrier of rope had been erected along the pond that was to the right of the Avalonry entrance. I wondered if people had kept getting shoved in from how the crowd pressed against it. The Avalons were in full gear, as they often were when performing official business. The intricate plates of silver armor that wrapped around their stomachs and fingers clinked with even the smallest movements. Simple tables of wood sat in front of them, covered with foodstuffs. Much of it was meant to last a few days, whether that be the bread, fruit, roots and vegetables.

I thought it would be a simple business when the Avalons at the front saw the miserable state the girl in my arms was in. Yet only one acknowledged us. A young man, his pale skin covered in freckles that made him seem ten years younger than the others, stared at us.

"What would you like?" he asked.

"Help." The girl whimpered. She lowered her hand to her stomach. The young man sucked in breath, his eyes softened even further.

"I found her lying on the ground outside of the mob." I said, sudden inspiration hitting me. On cue, my voice was filled with compassion. "I lifted her to keep her from getting trampled, but in a whisper she demanded that we go toward you instead of her home. She said her baby was more important than her resting... " I regarded her with the bittersweet sadness often reserved for ill brides or daughters, not strangers you were manipulating to get some high quality snacks.

Freckles lifted one hand and covered lips as they opened in a small gasp of shock. Color flushed his face. He fumed at his commander, whose rank was declared by his pauldrons being twice the size of everyone else's. As Freckles had been talking to us, the other three Avalons had been busy. Two of them were giving out the food non-stop and the third escorted people out the path around the back.

"Sir Osoro, I'd like to treat this woman," Freckles said.

"We're not healing, just giving out food." The commander replied, his skin a dusky red color. "Give them something to eat and send them along. You've wasted enough time chatting."

"But she's sick..."

Now even Sir Osoro broke his routine, looking over at us. His lips compressed in a harsh line until the corners of his mouth pouched subtly. It was odd that his hands were still handing out the food with such a reproachful expression.

"It is not fair that you give them privileged treatment; you've already ignored at least a dozen people to pay attention to her. They are not more important than twelve people. Give them a gift and send them along. That is your official Avalon duty right now." Sir Osoro's voice was stern and weary, like mine got with Mallow sometimes when she asked for something unreasonable not for the first, not for the tenth, but for the hundredth time. Even though I didn't really care what happened to the girl I was currently carrying, the answer seemed chilly.

During this short conversation I saw him distribute about eight meals.

"But—"

"If you heal her on duty right now, it will be insubordination, Sir Fayd."

Sir Fayd stammered at his commander. Then he composed himself and stuck his nose in the air.

"Fine," he said sweetly. "Sir Osoro, I'm taking a five minute break. Time for some non-Avalon business." Freckles stepped off to the side, and went back to the tables.

"Sir Fayd—" Commander Insensitivity shouted after us, but Freckles talked over him.

"Follow me," Freckles said, and gestured for us to follow him into a building carved out of fine white marble behind the tables of food. It had to be the Avalonry, I'd seen dozens like it on our journeys. For the first time, I was about to go inside of one. Despite my distaste for them, it was sort of exciting. We followed the small lily-lined path up to the heavy door. Freckles threw it open

"Lay her down here." Freckles ordered, guiding my vision with a wave of his armored hand. I laid the thin woman down on a red chaise, the pillowed top sinking slightly and allowing my hands to pull out from under her. Pain flared on my knuckles, and as I yanked them back I noticed the skin had been cut. It took me a second to realized I'd nicked it on rubies that lined the bottom edge of the seat, jutting out like precious rose thorns.

I jammed my wound in my mouth so that I wouldn't bleed on the fine white rug, which I had already tracked some dust onto. I pretty much had been a spectator to enough Avalon healings that I only had to glance back at them occasionally to know what was going on. That freed up my eyes to take in the building.

Freckles cast some spells on her, the typical stuff. Silver was the preferred metal of the Avalons, and it was everywhere on the walls. Raised relief images depicted great Avalons destroying evil, rescuing children, helping cripples or bringing food to the poor. One sculpture featured an Avalon holding food high above his head while a crowd of people so thin their bones showed through their skin stretched for it. I amused myself by imagining that the Avalon was running away with the food rather than bringing it. I smirked. I continued to observe the Avalonry while I heard Freckles cast some more spells. Banishing more bruises, wiping away those welts and so on.

Breaking up the chaos of the sculptures were white marble columns like those on the outside; featureless but imposing. From one of these, a fountain protruded, and water spilled from it and into a small pond in a lowered spot of the floor. From the flowers on either side of it, I assumed it was supposed to be mimicking a waterfall or something equally bucolic, but it reminded me of peeing.

Freckles had now cured what had been killing her and had moved onto improving her beyond her usual health. He fortified her vigor, made her resistant to illness.

Candles burned along the walls, diffusing a soft dreamlike glow on everything. Even my own hand, when gazed at in this light, had less age lines and scars.

The air here smelled sweet, sharp, and smoky. My eyes swept the room and spotted a metal incense holder. Its base was studded with gems and its tray was full of downy gray ash piled up like snow. From the incense stick tip's smoke swirled. I followed the path of the faint foreign smell as it traveled upwards. I craned my neck back and saw a ceiling covered in a solemn yet colorful mural. Sand dunes in the background, a small oasis of trees and grass, a tiny pond of crystal blue. And around the edges of that oasis, a circle of spaced apart stones formed a wall. In the image, it was day time. The sand was white from the heat of the midday sun. The stones were as black as night. No, blacker. A shadowless black...

"-and whichever way life guides you, however fate causes you to roam, let you be safe for as long as you are your child's home." Freckles finished, his voice tender. The girl was glowing a faint golden color. All of her injuries were gone. Her hair, the same length and uncouth cut, was soft, clean, and silky in the dim lights. All the sores and imperfections of skin had been melted away by the magic. She was an eerily flawless figure sprawled on the chaise in those threadbare clothes. It was heartbreaking to realize how lovely she'd be if only she had been born in different circumstances.

She apparently thought so, for she released a wail that made both me and Freckles jump. The woman, leaping off of the chaise, threw her arms around Freckles. Somehow she managed to avoid the sharp edges of his armor. Her narrow arms tucked into the gentle curving slopes that were part of the design. This meant that Freckles had limited options for escape that he could take without injuring her. He stood still and tried to talk to her in a calming way. She was sobbing so I couldn't hear a thing he was trying to say.

With him so distracted, I wished I was some sort of common pickpocket. Not two feet to my left was a table set out with beautiful tapering silver candle holders. I spied the kitchen beyond, a fluttering veil hanging in a doorway, it's drawers no doubt filled with silver too.

I was snapped back from my thieving daydreams when I heard the question I'd been waiting for pass the flustered Avalon's lips.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, ma'am? I need to get back to aiding my companions... my superior is already pretty upset." He had finally managed to unwrap her arms from around his clunky armor. He held her wrists at a length to prevent her from hugging him again.

The woman's eyes were full of sweltering tears. Her lips were in a trembling smile. I knew that far from wanting anything else, she was ready to devote the rest of her life to this man if he only asked.

I redirected the energy from the disgusted retch I wanted to do into a pretty intense eye roll. I mouthed words at her. Thankfully the Avalon's peripheral vision was blocked by the massive pauldrons on his shoulders, because I more or less had to do a little jig to catch her attention.

Once she spotted me through the constant onslaught of tears, her ecstasy faded a little. She was uncomfortable. I scowled at her until she nodded. Leaning in as far as Freckles would let her, she murmured something.

"What was that? I couldn't hear..."

"Orange," she said, louder, embarrassment burning her cheeks. Well maybe she didn't feel he owed her anything, but she owed me. I wasn't going to let it go if she didn't come through with her side of the bargain. So what if I didn't have magic? I got her this clod's attention, otherwise she'd be as sick and miserable as before.

"If it's... not any trouble," she continued, glancing up to check that it was okay. How shaky people's memories were when a pretty boy in glinting armor with a magic touch got involved. We little people got forgotten!

"Of course it isn't." He helped stand her up, and then guided us back toward the door. As we stepped out into the chaos, I saw that a serious dent had been put into the fine foods they were giving out. He snatched the last remaining orange, and put it into the woman's hands.

"Let's hope they like it." His hand graced the top of her rounded stomach, which still pulsed with the golden glow of his blessing. She beamed. His attention focused on me.

"And you," he said. He patted me on the shoulder with one heavy white leather wrapped hand. "If only there were more men in the world like you." The metal links bit into my shoulder from the impact. After hesitating for a moment, Freckles resumed handing out food. An offhand compliment was not enough reward for being good. I was glad that I had arranged for a proper thanks earlier.

I lifted the woman. Seeing her gleaming with the Avalons' blessing, people were much more accommodating to us on our journey back to the outside of the pulsing mass. I didn't even have to bite anybody.

I set her down. Her eyes kept drifting back over to the Avalonry at the center of the crowd. She held out of the orange.

"Thank you," she said. I took the orange from her hand.

"It was no problem." I said, as I pocketed it. She blinked and tilted her head expectantly. I did a little bow.

"May you be in good health and may the Avalons remember you about town. If you're lucky, you will always be in their care." It was a pretty empty well-wish, but she was elated by the possibility of it one day being true. I spun on my heel and walked away.

"Wait," she said. "Our... uh, deal's not complete.'

"Oh? You mean the coin?" I asked. Her chin bobbed in affirmation. It was amazing how much healthier she was compared to twenty minutes ago.

"Yes. You said... if I got you the orange, you'd give me coin."

"Ah... remember carefully, lovely mother-to-be. What I actually said was 'Enough gold to ensure you get a blessing that would guarantee your child's health.'" I gestured at the glowing halo about her. "And... well, you got that blessing without even having to travel."

"Yes... but the gold amount... in order to go the capital and the academy like you were saying..."

"But you didn't need to go to the capital. At present, we both have exactly what we demanded from the arrangement." I explained. "Me, my orange." I patted the satchel it was in. "And you, your own health and that of your children insured by Avalon blessing." I reached out and patted her tummy. She slapped at my hand, and I pulled it back. Double standards. That Avalon could touch her all he wanted, but I make an identical gesture...

"I still need to eat!" she protested. "I had plans for that coin."

"As do I. Like I said, the amount you needed for the blessing ended up being zero coin, so that's what you're getting." I sniffed. "I wouldn't get greedy if I were you, considering how well that went."

"I... I'll tell them you lied!" she said.

"Oh, is that how you reward me for my help? If not for me, you would have spent the whole evening on the outside of that mob, looking hungrily in and powerless to do anything." I walked away, waving in the friendliest manner over my shoulder. "Ma'am, be realistic. Best of luck!"

I peeled my orange. The citrus spritz as my nails broke the skin felt satisfyingly sticky across my fingernails. This must be what fortune smelled like.

As I moved away, I noticed a young boy in tattered clothes carrying one of the white loaves of bread. It was tucked underneath his coat so the people in the crowd he had to pass on his way back wouldn't steal it. He caught the attention of four able-bodied men. The boy ran over and handed them the bread. They broke it up amongst themselves. The boy loitered, and after a minute, the tallest of the men tossed him a handful of bronze coins. They scattered across the ground, and the boy scooped them up before running.

"And that lady thought I was bad. That bread was worth at least five times that." I mumbled around the pulpy sweetness in my mouth. It didn't taste as good as the one I got on my Age Day, so long ago. I inspected it. My memory was hazy, I had been so young. It wasn't... unpleasant. But the orange back then had been unforgettable. This was sour. I licked the juice from my fingers as I wound my way back to the fancy shoe shop.

I made up my mind to share half of it with Mallow. She'd never had an orange before and would appreciate it. I broke the fruit in two and ate the three slices left on the remainder of my half. Somehow, these were sweeter. Maybe I'd been eating the bad side?

(( A/N: Enjoying the story? Can't wait for the next part? Consider purchasing the paperback edition at my CreateSpace website: https://www.createspace.com/5621397 I'll be uploading the entire story here too, one chapter a week, so you'll get the tale if you're patient. Also please spread the word if you enjoyed the story! Your feedback means the world to me! ))