"Hello. The weather is lovely. I would like one loaf of round bread," Ari murmured to herself as she stepped off the stilted wooden pathway onto the narrow stone road leading toward the outer marsh. "Hello. The weather is lovely. I would like one loaf of round bread.”

  She was practicing for the new baker who had moved to Willow Road. As clever as Ari was at almost anything else, the art of conversation always eluded her. She sometimes said too much, or not enough, or the wrong thing, and she couldn't always tell until it was too late.

  Now, she'd crafted the perfect exchange that would hopefully evade further talking, which could complicate things. She kept it simple.

  A greeting. A mundane comment. A statement of intent.

  According to Celie, the new baker was a Greenfinger, who enjoyed fusing spiritmoss and dreamroot into his pastries. Everyone in their family had quickly gotten addicted to his soft, herby bread, and his bakery was soon the most popular spot in Willow Walk, especially after the previous Mossborne baker moved away with her thief of a son.

  Ari recalled the previous baker liked to talk about the weather, so she figured her rehearsed greeting would be adequate for the new baker as well. She prayed it went smoothly. It was a busy day today, and she needed to get bread and fish back in time for dinner.

  Her sister had an important mission this evening, and her brother had gone to hunt a boar.

  Ari's only job was to get the required ingredients in the required time frame.

  She'd already failed her Moat trials. She couldn't fail at this, too.

  Of course, her family tried to convince her that she hadn't failed. It wasn't a fair test, as everyone had been distracted by the attack. A few parents were petitioning the council for a redo, but for Ari, that might be the worst outcome.

  She couldn't believe that she had to do all that again.

  But she couldn't think about that right now. Better to focus on the task at hand, rather than her own disappointment.

  She rehearsed the words again, going through the steps. “Step one: greeting. Smile, but no teeth. Too many teeth are aggressive. Step two: bread request. Exact number. Exact type. Step three: money. Do not drop coins."

  The boardwalk came into view before her eyes, colorful stalls boasting of fresh ware, meat, fish, and vegetables of every type. The boardwalk split near a crooked lantern post wrapped in climbing ivy. To the left, the planks headed toward the fishing docks, where narrow boats drifted against poles driven into the mud. But the bakery lay to the right, where the path became a slightly raised causeway of packed earth and flat stones.

  A buttery, sweet scent beckoned her closer. Small lanterns hung from the trees, glowing amber even during the day to push back the thick swamp fog that often rolled in without warning.

  The bakery was a round brick building with a steep, mossy roof and a crooked chimney that constantly exhaled thin curls of smoke. Its windows glowed golden, fogged slightly from the heat inside.

  A painted wooden paddle hung beside the door.

  On it were the words: MARIN'S SWAMP OVEN

  Outside the bakery, a few rough benches sat on a wooden deck that overlooked a slow pool of dark water where lily pads drifted lazily. Sometimes herons stood there, waiting patiently for fish while townsfolk ate sweet rolls and watched the mist slide through the cypress trees.

  With a murmured greeting, Ari walked up to the stall.

  The baker had been chatting cheerfully with one of the seated men enjoying a honey bun, but quickly glanced at Ari when he saw her.

  She cleared her throat. "Hello. The weather is lovely. I would like—” Pause. She remembered that, in Greenfinger culture, it was customary to curtsy when meeting new people.

  Ari executed what she thought was a perfect curtsy.

  When she straightened, the baker beamed. “Well now, that’s the politest good morning I’ve had all day. You practicing for royalty, or just me?”

  Unexpected question. That was not in the script.

  “Just you,” Ari said.

  “Oh, I feel honored. Should I bow?”

  “No. That would make it worse.”

  He frowned. “Worse how?”

  Ari twisted her lips. Do not explain. Explaining leads to more questions.

  Yet she felt the instinctive need to explain herself anyway. Honesty was always simpler.

  “I practiced this conversation six times on the walk here, and none of them included bowing,” she admitted.

  The baker seemed surprised for a second, then whistled. “Six times, hm? And here I was thinking we were improvising.”

  “We are.”

  “Ah. That explains the look.”

  What look?

  Never mind. Time to fulfil the purpose of this trip.

  "I would like one loaf of round bread, please."

  Instead of moving to retrieve the bread, he peered at her. “You know they’ve told me about you, Arielle Blacksoil. How clever you are and how quickly you complete arithmetic in your head. Also, how you remember every fact you've ever learned, and every sentence ever spoken to you in exact detail. I’m honored to make your acquaintance."

  Ari blinked. He’s honored to meet me. That’s odd. Why would he say that? Sarcasm or real?

  No matter. Focus on the bread.

  “I would like one loaf of bread. The one with the crack on top. Not the long one. The round one.”

  The baker nodded. “The round one with the crack. Not the long one. Got it.” He reached for a bread that was longer than her forearm, and Arielle frowned.

  “That is the long one.”

  “Is it?”

  He is doing this on purpose, she thought. This is teasing. I don't have time for teasing.

  “Yes,” Arielle said

  “Are you sure?”

  “I am extremely sure.”

  “Extremely sure is my favorite kind of sure.” He switched to the rounder loaf. “This one?”

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  “Yes.” She breathed a sigh of relief that the conversation was nearly over.

  “Excellent. Anything else? Honey buns? Sweet rolls? More awkward small talk?"

  No. Do not engage in more conversation. Bread already secured.

  “No,” she said.

  “Pity. That’ll be three coppers.”

  Step three. Money.

  She tried to pull it out of her pocket, but he waved a hand and said, "Don't worry. Consider this one a freebie."

  She frowned at him. "Why?"

  "Because it's the first time you're buying from me, and that eye looks like it really hurt."

  Ari reached up to touch the spot where she'd been hit yesterday, right before she'd had her token stolen. Her mother had put some herbs on it, but it still stung.

  "You don't have to compensate for my eye," she told him. "You didn't punch me."

  "I know, but I want to. Compensate, that is, not punch you." He followed it up with a wink as he pushed the wrapped bread to her. "Have a good day."

  Arielle processed the scenario quickly and said, “…Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Same time tomorrow?”

  She thought about it, then nodded.

  The baker grinned. “Great. I’ll try not to bow.”

  After a long pause, Arielle replied, “That would be helpful.”

  She took the bread and left, quietly replaying the entire conversation already. She made a few notes and would adjust their later conversation based on it. She had some regrets, but overall, she had secured the bread without too much social discomfort, so it was a success.

  The next thing she had to do was to get the fish.

  There was a short line at the fishmonger's stall, so she waited her turn, tuning out conversation until she was at the front of the line.

  "Hello," she greeted. "The weather is lovely. I would like two pieces of trout.”

  "Ooh. Unfortunately, we just ran out of trout. Would you like some salt fish instead?"

  Ari bit her lip. Salt fish was slightly more expensive than trout, and it wasn't at all what she'd been asked to get. However, going back to her mother to clarify would take too much time, and her mother would be annoyed if she came back without fish. Her mother would also be annoyed if she came back with the wrong type of fish, especially considering she could only buy one of them.

  To buy one fish or no fish?

  “Arielle? Have you made a decision?” Bertha, the fishmonger, asked. “If not, I’m afraid, you’re going to have to step out of line.”

  Arielly shook her head. She didn’t want to step out of line. She wanted to make a decision, the right one. She just didn’t know what that would be. She turned around to the person behind her, an older man.

  “What would you do if you were supposed to buy two of one kind of fish but only had money for another fish? Would you go back and get more money, or would you buy the one fish?

  "Oh." He exchanged a look with Bertha, who sighed.

  The fishmonger picked up the two salt fish and wrapped them up with deft fingers, handing them to Ari. "Just bring me the rest of it later."

  Ari shook her head. "I cannot have debt. Grandmother says debtors are worse than gamblers and gamblers are dullards, drunks, and devils."

  The older man behind her huffed at the statement.

  Bertha rolled her eyes. "It's not debt. Just take it."

  "But–"

  “Oh, for Sentinel's sake." One of the men at the back of the line, a Mossborne warrior, pushed the fish into her hand and dropped a single silver coin on the counter. “There. It's my debt. Consider it a present. Now go."

  She hadn't done anything to deserve a present. Her mind still evaluated this as debt, but she didn’t want to talk back. He was much bigger than her, and he had scary eyes.

  She nodded and murmured, “Thank you,” before she left.

  For some reason, even though she had gotten what she wanted, that last visit felt like a failure. Perhaps because she had made things unnecessarily stressful for everyone involved. They were annoyed with her. People were often annoyed with her, so Arielle had gotten used to the look. It didn't make it any less unpleasant, though.

  She sighed on her way home. Overall, it had not been a good week for her. Starting with her embarrassing loss at the trials. Her family had tried to take it well. In that they hadn’t mentioned it. They were trying to carry on as normal, but she knew they had to be disappointed.

  Frustration built up. She was disappointed in herself, too. She wasn't big. She wasn’t strong. She couldn’t even buy fish right.

  She'd read a lot of books cover to cover and had passed every written test at the schoolyard with perfect scores, but that didn't matter here. She wasn't good at the things that mattered.

  She took a deep breath, put her hand over her shoulder, and started patting her back. Her father would do that whenever he could sense she was about to throw a tantrum. As a child, she would sometimes get stressed out and frustrated, and had no way of expressing it outside of screaming.

  He would put his large hand on her back and just pat.

  “There there," He would say calmly as she yelled. “Relax.”

  He’d been gone for years, but sometimes it felt like he'd just left yesterday. Other times, it felt longer. She was starting to forget what his face looked like. But she always remembered the rhythm of his pats.

  It made her feel better as she got back on the wooden stilted walkway.

  As she neared her home, she hesitated. Was the air more colorful than usual?

  She ignored the change and pushed open the door, calling out, "Mother. I didn't get any–"

  The words froze on her tongue.

  Her mother was in the living room, and so were her brother and her sister.

  And so were two other men, whom Ari didn't recognize.

  That is, until one of them moved out of the shadowed corner, where the light of the lantern did not reach,

  "You're home," he said, and her eyes widened in surprise.

  “Master Elric.”

  “Hi, Arielle.” He looked nearly the same as she remembered, just as youthful and princely, with his hair slightly longer. His eyes were still warm, and they crinkled around the corners when he smiled. “My, how you have grown.”

  “I’m only five inches taller than I was when you met me.”

  “Yes, but you have to be what, fifteen now?”

  She nodded. That was accurate.

  “I’m happy to see you," she told him, both because it was polite and because it was true.

  “I’m happy to see you, too, Arielle. Unfortunately, this isn’t exactly a social call." He cleared his throat and glanced at her mother, whose eyes narrowed. She had an odd look on her face, tense, almost sullen, as Master Elric asked, "Arielle, can you show me what you did yesterday?"

  Arielle also tensed. Her eyes immediately dropped, her left hand balling into a fist. "What I did?"

  “Yes. It’s okay. I know you’re the one who stabilized the spell.” Ari could feel hot eyes on her now. She swallowed. She wasn’t good at lying, but she had to try her best.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She wasn’t looking at his face, but she sensed he smiled. “I think you do.”

  “Am I in trouble?”

  “No,” he said hurriedly. “Of course not, but we just need to make sure that…you know….that what you did yesterday wasn't a mistake. You're not in trouble. But if I activate a spell, can you complete it?

  She hesitated, glancing at her mother and her brother. Her mother was still watching Elric like he was a pond snake, and so was her brother. Only Celie was looking at Ari.

  Ari looked away.

  Without waiting for an answer, Elric swirled his hands in the air.

  Red, brown, and gold orbs arranged themselves in a three-dimensional square lattice, but it was fairly unstable, with a few of the orbs breaking off.

  The spell was on the verge of an explosion.

  Unable to resist, Ari held out her hand and ushered the pieces back in place. She also further stabilized the spell, causing a broken glass to reconstruct itself on the floor.

  The other mage that Elric came with gasped noisily.

  His eyes nearly popped out of his head with how wide they were. His jaw nearly dropped from their socket.

  "How...." he stammered, head turning sharply toward Elric. "Did you..." He didn't complete the sentence, frozen in stupefaction.

  Elric had a much more controlled reaction.

  "Well," he said, brushing his chin. "This might be a bit of a problem.”