[Closed] A Stitch In Time Saves Nine

[Raksha]

25th Dentis, 2719
WOVEN DELIGHTS | MORNING

He was not much of a man to look at, that’s what his father had told him, even if he wasn’t quite a man then. A short fellow, by any kingdom standards, he’d been called all sorts of things since he was a small child. Unkind things that referenced his unusual height, or his short arms and legs, or his too large head or his walk. Father had done his best, the birth too difficult for his mother. Big head unable to fit properly through pelvic bones. Surgery too late with no galdori healer to make sure she survived. Father did his best, but the resentment was there none the less. Truth be told even in a world of powerful galdori and oppressed humanity, Tobias Lent was beyond an oddity. He was a curiosity, an extra sprinkle of wrong in his already human form.

Dwarfism, that’s what one of those witches had called it. The stunting of something inside of him that made his body shorter than it was supposed to be. She’d pitied him too, tsked and told his father it was a shame. A hard life, best to end it before adulthood. Before getting too attached.

Maybe his father saw something of his mother in him. Maybe he just needed a hand to help in the meager bakery they ran in Vienda.

Either way, Tobias had lived his life up until his thirteenth year midst the smells of bread and pastries, until his father had sent him on his way with a bag of rations and a couple of coins. The Soot District had laughed him off, and the street beggars chased him away. Low, the lowest he could have possibly imagined himself to be, Tobias had stood on the Vienda Bridge and contemplated the end.

What use was their for someone like him in a world where even passives seemed to be more accepted than himself?

You need a hand over that railing, or you carrying a stool in that bag?

Those were the first words he’d heard from Jon Serro, and Tobias would never forget them. The man, towering and stoic with his eyepatch and greying hair, stood beside him on that bridge like some sort of ghost appearing out of nowhere. The teenager had been taken aback at first, before the human looked down, and smirked.

And that was how Tobias found himself recruited into the Resistance.

He’d been skeptical at first, concerned that he’d become some sort of side-show freak for their entertainment, but with Jon’s blessing the young man was welcomed into the fold. They didn’t look at his physical limitations, instead they discovered under all that strangeness, Tobias had a keen mind and was a quick study. He was quickly taken in by the code-breakers cell and learned the art of hidden messages and communicating right under the galdori noses. It was easy for him, and fun, and eventually he found himself surpassing his teachers. Jon had him assigned to missions and Alyssa had given him praise and suddenly Tobias wasn’t an outsider. He was one of them.

He belonged.

That had been three years ago. Three fantastic years ago. And then not too much more than just a season ago, the news had broken.

Awful, horrific, heart wrenching news.

Jon Serro was dead.

Tobias wasn’t afraid to cry. He’d sobbed his sixteen year old heart out, and Ginny, his like aged compatriot had cried right along with him. He liked Ginny. She didn’t care about how he looked at all, and treated him like everyone else. Crying with Ginny had been good. They’d told tales of Jon and how he’d brought them into the fold, and had looked in wide eyed awe when Alyssa had taken up the mantle. And then, things had been quiet.

Sort of.

There were talks of a new general, a large red haired wick who’d been recruited by the Wisp to teach people how to go to war. But Tobias wasn’t for war. Not with guns and knives and things. Not with explosives like Ginny. And there’d been some whispers of a revolution, a new leadership. But no one said it out loud, because Alyssa was scary.

Then there was the girl. The one that Jon had kidnapped. She seemed so unhappy, for the brief moment Tobias had seen her. And then she’d disappeared again. He wondered if she was dead too. Maybe Jon tried to show her to the Judge, and maybe he’d killed them both. The code-breaker did what he did best, he kept his nose in his books and his codes, and did the odd jobs when they came in. He helped around the How and with the Book and Bell.

And then, on this chilly Dentis day, someone had requested for a code breaker. A good one. One that could be trusted not to make any mistakes at all. So he had dressed in a childs clothing, a jaunty hat to cover his head and a thick coat to cover his deformities, and he had made his way to the quaint fabric shop that he’d been told to attend.

Woven Delights.

Tobias huffed on his ungloved hands as he stood outside of the large bay window, his blue-green eyes taking in the elegant display of fabric and jewels. This was very fancy. Maybe it was the wrong place. He looked up again at the sign over the door. Nope, it definitely said what it was supposed to say. Reaching up for the handle, the small teenager pushed the door open, little bell tinkling to notify his entrance.

“’scuse me, is there anyone about? I got an order to place for my mistress.” He called out in a voice not yet broken by puberty, the door swinging shut behind him, rocking onto his toes to look around the pretty fabric shop.

[Ava Weaver]

Morning, 25 Dentis, 2719
Woven Delights, the Painted Ladies

Snowing still, Ms. Weaver,” Grais said, the young woman standing at the window and peering out through the display.

Ava smiled at her, standing behind the counter; in the few moments of peace they had mid-morning, she was carefully cutting fabric for an order placed earlier in the day, and asked for by the end of it. It was silk; she did not like to cut silk when customers might come in at any moment, because it was a fabric which slipped and pulled, which slid from beneath her fingers. She had set down heavy weights on the end of it, and taken out the silk shears which had cost her dearly to have made; she cut, carefully, in smooth, deliberate strokes, for once committed there could be no turning back.

Pale wintry light caught the blonde braid down Grais’s back; she fetched the broom as she came back, sweeping up an errant bit of mud, and carried it outside; her cheeks and the tip of her nose were already pink when she came back inside with the empty dustbin.

Ava smiled at her, folding the last of the silk; she wore a warm dress in mahogany-colored wool, with a soft scooped neck and a skirt which fell to points in the front and back; Grais wore a light gray wool dress which Ava had offered her the wool for as a partial advance on her first salary – discounted – and which she had been all too happy to accept.

“Let me wrap this up in the back,” Ava said, lifting the silk in gentle hands. She had not been back from the Rose for long; she had wanted to hire Grais before the trip had made itself necessary. She, perhaps, would not have gone for any fabric shipment, but she had known what might be hidden in plain sight in this one, sent from Mugroba wound into the borders of a patterned cloth, invisible but to those who knew to look for it. She had gone, and she had returned, successful; what had passed between, she put aside.

She knew, really, very little about what might be contained inside. The only word that had been sent before the shipment was that it was important - very important. Ava could not have guessed beyond that; she only knew that all of the Resistance ached with the bloody wounds left behind by Yaris, and she could imagine very little else of importance just now.

She had been surprised and glad that Grais had waited for the job; she had said, quite staunchly, that she’d like very much to work here, ma’am, and she’d thought it worth waiting for. So far, the girl had proven herself capable and enthusiastic; Ava was very grateful for her.

Just that morning and the night before, Grais had stayed late and come in early to help Ava rearrange the shop for winter. It was wool featured now, much like what the two of them wore, sturdy browns and grays, perhaps edging into blues and reds at the edges. Some were smooth and even, flawlessly woven; others were lumpier, but warm and serviceable still, and much less pricey. There was still plenty of color on the shelves, and richer fabrics too, silks and satins; winter, Ava had said more than once in the last few days, was the perfect time for a vivid red or green or blue, whether for the Solstice or Clock’s Eve, or simply to wear around.

Ava heard the tinkling of the bell as she stepped into the back room; she hesitated, and then left Grais to greet the customer, wrapping up the silk, and listening attentively all the same.

“Good morning!” Grais said, smiling down at the boy from behind the counter. “How can I help you?”

Ava smoothed the last of the paper parcel over the silk. She wrapped a ribbon around it, tying it carefully; it was hard to get an even, smooth bow with just her own too hands, but she had learned the trick of it, even if it was easier with anther set. She tugged the ribbon into place, and set the parcel down.

For a moment, she thought of going down to the basement to look at the fabric; she had done in, the night before, in the early hours predawn, taken a lantern and gone down to touch it once more. She had sent Alyssa a note immediately upon returning, telling her that she had succeeded; Ava – or perhaps Silk – knew that the best place for the coded fabric was in plain sight. It sat – not on her shelves, of course, but tucked neatly amidst the other spare fabrics in her storeroom. As if, Ava thought firmly, she had nothing to hide. She took a deep breath, smoothing the package once more. All the same, she thought wryly, she hoped Alyssa would send someone soon.

[Raksha]

25th Dentis, 2719
WOVEN DELIGHTS | MORNING

Wide blue green eyes looked back up at the blonde, almost as though he was surprised to see her standing there. Tobias reached up to take the hat from his head politely, nodding a quick semi-bow of greeting to the woman.

“Mornin’ ma’am. Boy, it's really cold out today! I bet we're going to have a proper winter this year, wet and cold. Might even get snowed in. Looking around the shop, the youth tilted his head in another respectful dip.

"Real pretty place you got here. Prettiest that I’ve seen in, well ever really, for a dress shop. It’s all cozy, like autumn fires and hot cocoa. Real pretty.” The teenager smiled, folding his hat in his hands. At this angle, the human’s head was barely above eye level with the countertop, and he had to step back and tilt his head to look up and the woman.

“I got a friend who’s got hair like your fabrics, all orange and brown and blonde but it sort of smooshes together into ‘red’. It’s real pretty too.” He offered the tidbit with no prompting, sure of his purpose there and not at all afraid to play the part of the simple errand boy.

“Not to be bothering you, ma'am, but I had an order, for my Mistress. She said that I had to, uh, ‘suspect the bolt to ensure it is of the best quality,’ ‘fore being made into her dress.” He waited, for something to twig or a penny to drop, unsure if this lady was his client or an innocent bystander. He rocked on his heels, and cleared his throat.

“Of course, if it is the best quality, then I need to put in the order. It’s already on the books, it was just the checking you see. My Mistress is very particular about the threads she wears against her skin. Sensitive like, you see.” Wandering across the room to admire a roll of woolen brown fabric, Tobias cleared his throat again.

“I wouldn’t be puttin’ you out if I were to ask for a cool drink of water, would I, Mistress Weaver?” The phrase was unmistakable to the right ears, a code in plain sight, that any Resistance member should recognize instantly. For his part, the teenager didn’t look away from the fabric, playing the part as smoothly as he was trained to.

[Ava Weaver]

Morning, 25 Dentis, 2719
Woven Delights, the Painted Ladies

Ava listened with half her attention to the conversation outside. The customer spoke with a bright, young-sounding voice – very young, she thought, somewhat amused.

Outside, Grais smiled at Tobias from behind the counter. She curtsied, neatly, although she didn’t come out from behind the counter, so it was more like a bob and the edge of a gray wool skirt just barely visible, held in an elegant hand. “Oh, thank you!” She smiled when he complimented the shop, drawing herself up and looking around with bright pride visible on her face.

Ava could hear it in her voice, too; she smiled, just a little more.

“An order…?” Grais began, hesitantly. Ava stilled, holding just a moment. There was, she knew very well, no such order on the books.

There were a number of possibilities. Chief among them, of course, was that an order slip had gotten lost in transit. It happened, sometimes; an errand boy might misplace a note and not want to admit it, or, if sent by post, it might simply vanish between stations. That was not the possibility that made Ava smooth the smile on her face, very easily.

Ava came out of the back room as the young man made his request.

Grais glanced over at her, wide-eyed. “Ms. Weaver,” she said, hesitant, “he’s asking about a special order?”

Ava smiled at her. “Yes,” she said, lightly, “I know the one. I’ve the bolt put aside,” she turned to the young man, and smiled at him. “It’s down in the store room. I’d be happy to fetch you that drink of water as well. Thirst is a hard thing to bear.”

The returned phrase was the right one – not only for the request for a cool drink of water, but for the specific phrasing the messenger had used. He didn’t look like she’d expected, Ava thought, but then – she supposed she did not, either. That was the best disguise of all, as she knew well.

Grais smiled, relaxing, looking thoroughly relieved. Ava was grateful she’d been worried, more than she’d expected.

“This way, Mr…?” Ava smiled down at the young man, polite and even.

“Grais, if you need anything, just ring the bell,” Ava set her dark lacquer-capped fingers gently on the counter. “I’ll show Mr. Tobias to the storeroom.”

Ava opened the door to the backroom once more, stepping inside. It was all draped fabrics on the walls there, soft silk which shivered lightly in the breeze. There were two elegant couches, with a table between them, both upholstered in fabric from her own store; the floor was a thick rug, well-woven. There was a pitcher of water on the table, and two cups; Ava poured water into one, knowing the sound would be audible from the front room, and handed it to Tobias.

Ava knelt, and folded up the edge of it back over itself, smoothing it out, to reveal a hatch hidden on the ground below.

This was scarcely even a secret; it was her storeroom, and could be opened any time of day as needs demand – even to the Seventen. Ava opened the hatch now, lit a lantern with a quick strike of a match, and stepped back. “After you,” she said to Tobias, watching him evenly through dark eyes. There was nothing unusual about her tone; it was as light and friendly as it had been earlier. Her face, though, had changed; it was smooth and set, with no trace of the friendly shopkeeper’s smile she’d shown him before.

Silk watched Tobias descend, even, unhesitating. She passed the lantern down the ladder, and followed him down, the heels of her low boots clicking lightly against the rungs. At the bottom, she took the lantern once more. The storeroom was all fabrics, as organized as the showroom above, but crammed full – bolts, stacked on top of one another on shelves set into the wall, filling almost every inch of space. Ava took them down a narrow aisle, and stopped; she set the lantern aside on a low stool, and drew out a bolt of fabric, holding it in both hands.

Ava turned back to Tobias and held there, still; she did not speak, watching him in the flickering lamplight.

[Raksha]

25th Dentis, 2719
WOVEN DELIGHTS | MORNING

"An order…?”

Oh well now bollocks and fiddlesticks, that wasn’t a good tone of voice. Tobias didn’t flinch at the blonde’s remark, studying the fabric and clearing his throat, asking that loaded question in the assumption that this was his client. If not, he’d be on his way and Alyssa could figure out what had fallen through.

Tobias turned at the sound of another voice, much more assured than the blonde, not at all confused by his remarks. He beamed at the brunette, very quickly realizing he knew her face. Not in person, but he’d seen her before. She’d been part of the party that had returned with that sad girl from the Rose. Silk, that’s what she was called.

Ms. Weaver felt like a pseudonym.

“Aw much obliged Miss. It’s Tobias, if you please.” Putting his hat back on his head after a short bow, the short statured teenager offered Grais a smile and a nod on his way past. As Ava led him into the room, Tobias admired the fabrics there. Silky and smooth, burnished warmly in the light of the store room. He wasn’t any sort of seamstress, but he could appreciate beauty when he saw it, even in the little things.

He took the water without comment, though he didn’t sip it, instead nursing the glass as the brunette shifted the rug to reveal the hatch that led downstairs. The opening revealed a ladder in the lamplight, and Tobias couldn’t help but swallow heavily. He didn’t much like heights, and ladders were just heights in disguise. Taking a sip of the water, placing the glass on the table, the ill-proportioned boy took his time to descend, trying not to look down and being very aware of where his feet went on the rungs.

Oh Alioe be praised, he found the floor!

Waiting for Ava, the decoder looked around at the bounty of fabrics, feeling small under the weight of so much stock. He nodded at the woman as she passed, all business much as she had been, his errand boy demeanor dropped now there was no one to put on a show for. They moved down a narrow aisle, surrounded by bolts of colors and textures, before Silk stopped and drew forth a roll.

To work then!

Tobias reached for the fabric, drawing the open edge of the roll outwards so he could see the weave of the fibers and the patterns of the edging. His brow drew downwards a little, holding the fabric up against the light of the lantern and carefully counting lines and threads with his mind working overtime. He tsked, smoothing his hands over the other side and back again, before finally looking at Ava with a wince.

“I’m sorry to tell you Mistress Silk, but there’s nothing particularly interesting about this bolt. Except that it’s quite a lovely weave. Outside of that, it’s just fabric.” Looking a little contrite, the young man rubbed a hand against the back of his neck, looking at the ground.

“Jon once told me that sometimes folks see what they want to see, instead of seeing what they need to see.” He smiled again at the memory.

“Most folks see a child when they see me, or a malformed experiment of the Gods. It’s probably hard to trust what they see, even if what they need to see is standing right here in front of them.” Sticking his hands in his pockets, Tobias shrugged, finally looking at Ava with a serious face.

“Do you need to see something, Silk, now that we’re done seeing what you wanted to see?” The code-breaker asked cryptically, his blue-green eyes firmly talking between the lines, now that hopefully the seamstress had put her mistrust aside.

[Ava Weaver]

Morning, 25 Dentis, 2719
Woven Delights, the Painted Ladies

T
he best place to hide was in plain sight. It was a lesson Ava had learned well, and one she had learned again and again, these last few years and well before. She had learned to bare herself, to show what she felt and keep the rest tucked beneath; she had learned to smile, smooth and even, whatever she felt, and to bow her head.

The fabric had not come from Mugroba alone, a single bolt delivered in the dead of night by a mysterious messenger. It had come with an order of Mugrobi fabrics, rich brocades and intricate patterns, many of them with patterns and stitches woven into the border. It had come tucked amidst the rest, with nothing but her own foreknowledge to tell her how to find it.

It had come such that even when the customs officials had stopped the shipment to demand paperwork and funds both, they had not found it. This was not because it was cleverly hidden, but because it was not; it was simply a bolt of fabric, like all the rest.

It was not the bolt she gave Tobias.

There was trust and there was trust. So far, he had offered a resistance code phrase and told her he was here to look at fabric. Ava waited, hands folded, as the young man bent his head to the fabric. He looked up and her and let go of the last of his errand boy demeanor; he had, Ava thought, begin to put it aside in the back room, like shrugging off a cloak. The best place to hide was in plain sight; the code breaker, she thought, seemed to know it well.

Silk took the bolt back; she wrapped the fabric back around it once more, and tucked it on to the shelves. “People see what they want to see,” Silk agreed; a smile curved over her face, not the shopkeeper’s smile from above, but something very different, sharp in its understanding. “Forgive my caution, Mr. Tobias,” she said. She set the fake roll back; she drew out another, just next to it, fingers lingering against the complex weave of the pattern, the simpler border marked with subtle threads set in a careful order.

“Trust is more than a code phrase,” Silk said, looking down at the fabric. She lifted her gaze to Tobias’s; she extended him the roll now. “I needed to be sure.”

She had gone to the Rose herself to bring this news home; she had thrown everything she had at bringing back this fabric, hiding in plain sight along with it. Ava and Silk both; there was no separating them, anymore. If Ava Weaver was a pseudonym, it was stitched into her like the code to the fabric; to rip it away was to bleed.

“Will you need long?” She asked, softly.

[Raksha]

25th Dentis, 2719
WOVEN DELIGHTS | MORNING

The short young man smiled back in return, with a nod and a small tip of his childs hat.

“Ent nothing to forgive Miss, now we’s got our understandings right all is well. Better the mistrust than being strung on an uncles necktie.” He said with a knowing tap of his buttoned nose, curious eyes watching the brunette woman put away the false fabric and draw another, almost as non-descript as the first.

“Mmm indeed. Codes are only as good as those who keep them, this is the truth of it.” Tobias took the fabric from her politely, letting his gaze sweep over the weave with a sudden brief rise of his brow as the pattern appeared to his clever eyes. The code-breaker held it close, running his thumb over the edging and frowning slightly.

“No ma’am, probably not. It’s a tricky one, but I’m also a tricky fellow.” He shot her a quick smile, before holding the weave up against the light of the lantern. Quietly, the teenager used his thumb nail to count certain threads, withdrawing a small black book and sharpened charcoal from his pocket. Flipping to a new page, he began to make notes of colors and numbers, whispering things under his breath as he counted something in his mind. Back to the fabric, carefully decoding the pattern of the weave and taking notes along the way. Eventually, he began to associate letters to colors and numbers, crossing one out and going back to the threads.

“Ah, I know this one. Haven’t seen it many times though. Takes more skill to make then it does to read truthfully. Surprised you noticed there was something to notice Miss. You’ve got an eye for this.” It wasn’t intended to offend, but to complement, as Tobias finally made a space on the next page to capture the actual message hidden there in the fabric.

As he wrote, the code breaker’s eyes widened. His pointed pencil froze at the end of the last letter, staring at the words.

“No I—it—just let me—” He shook his head and tried again, this time going over each spot with a fine slow hand, bowing over the fabric and triple checking his work.

He wrote the same words, breath shaky as a hand rubbed over his face, leaving black charcoal smudges in its wake. Tobias exhaled heavily, looking up at Ava with shock.

“Oh Gods.” The teenager whispered, heart pounding in his chest. From where she was, Ava should be able to read the words clearly.

Jon Alive. Azmus Knows.

“We’ve got to tell Alyssa.” The boy blurted immediately, rubbing his hand over the charcoal to smudge it all over as to be unreadable. It didn’t matter, it was in his head now. He would make a copy of the codex when he was back in the How.

[Ava Weaver]

Morning, 25 Dentis, 2719
Woven Delights, the Painted Ladies

I
t was deliberate that Silk left the trap door open as she climbed down the ladder. Grais was still in the front of the shop, and Ava thought she would have time; it seemed likely that Grais would understand her not wanting to leave Tobias alone in the fabric storeroom. All of the shop’s value, she’d told Grais, smiling, was either on the walls outside or in the storeroom below.

There were some fabrics too expensive to be kept on the shelves, or at least to be kept on the shelves in full. Ava believed that one should shop by feel as much as sight; this was true for all of her customers. But that also meant she knew better than to keep everything out in the open. Generally, she did not go into the storeroom with customers – it was more common to bring the fabric out to them – but she expected that Grais wouldn’t find it surprising that Ava would accompany the so-called errand boy downstairs.

These thoughts and more occupied her as she waited.

Ava knew that she would be able to hear the chiming of the bell from here if anyone came inside. She knew, too, that she would have a hard time leaving. Tobias had said she had an eye for this; Silk raised her eyebrows, very lightly, and smiled; she said nothing. Her gaze fell back to the black book in his hands. For a moment, she longed to know what was written there, and the secrets of the code herself.

He kept going. Silk watched; Ava listened, although there was no chiming of the bell. She knew how to count time; she knew, too, when there was no sense to it.

When he spoke again, his voice was hoarse and strained. Ava felt the tension of it, strum through her like a bow. She waited; it took all the strength she had, and all the long experience of years – most of a decade – spent learning to wait. Only that kept her against the ladder.

Tobias’s eyes were wide when he looked up at her, like the child he was not. She could hear the shakiness of his voice; she came one step closer, then another, so that she could look down into the light.

Ava inhaled; it was not quite a gasp. For a moment her eyes were wide – very wide – as wide as Tobias’s. She did not insult him by asking if he was sure.

“I’ll go tonight,” Ava said. She reached down, and offered Tobias her hand to help him stand, not minding the smudges of charcoal on his palms. Her eyes searched his face; she took a deep breath.

“Tell no one and make no copies,” Ava said, quietly, gazing in to the young boy’s face. “A secret is best kept by one; in this case, let it be no more than three. We must trust her. If…” Ava inhaled, and exhaled, deeply, “if he was betrayed by one of us,” she went on, quietly, her gaze meeting Tobias’s still, “and they find out that we know…” She squeezed his hand, not so lightly, waiting for the spark of understanding in his gaze. She didn't expect it to take long.

[Raksha]

25th Dentis, 2719
WOVEN DELIGHTS | MORNING

Tobias shoved his book in his pocket, taking her hand with ever-wide eyes, as though in shock. He stood, and nodded furiously.

“Oh my Lady. How long…how did…what if…Alioe I thought he was dead…we all thought he was dead. Oh my Gods…Alyssa will…she has to…” The teenager’s breathing was coming rapidly, too fast, eyes bulging and sweat beading on his brow. Tears were forming, welling at the thoughts coming to fast to his young mind. For all his professionalism, for all his training, the boy was still just a boy.

And this was bigger than anything he could have imagined.

Ava came down to his level, looking him in the eye, searching his face with a calm that seemed out of reach. Tobias stared at her, felt the touch of her hand still in his and the gentle but firm tone in her voice. She was a rock for him to cling to in the storm, a shelter for his panicked thoughts. He mimicked her breathing, looking into her eyes, the realization of what she was saying dawning on him.

“Yes ma’am. No one. No one at all.” The youth said quietly, squeezing her hand in return before brushing them on his coat and wiping his eyes with the backs. He swore quietly, adjusting his hat and nodding, trying to find some semblance of normal before having to go back upstairs.

and if they find out that we know…

Tobias took a deep breath, before looking at Ava and offering a very firm nod.

“Of course.” Once they were ready, he would follow the woman back upstairs, gulping down his water and putting the best smile he could muster on his face.

“Beautiful quality, as of course my mistress were expecting. Thank you Mistress Weaver. I’ll let her know I’ve seen it, an’ that we are good to proceed with the makin’ of things. Not that I understand any of that, bein’ what I am ma’am, but I trust your expertise.” He said as they moved into the main room where they had left the pretty assistant, Tobias having enough moxy to tug his hat off his head and give the blonde a little shy smile and a bow.

“An’ thanks t’ you Mistress…uh…Grais? It were a real nice thing t’ meet you.” With another polite nod, the boy put his hat back on his head, and left the shop.

And as soon as he was out of sight of the shop, of the main street, of any prying eyes, Tobias Lent ran as fast as his legs could take him back to the Book and Bell.

And as promised, he wouldn't say a word. Not to Ginny, not to Alyssa, not to no one.