“That’s just wrong,” Abi frowned. “Just because someone else tricked him, that’s no reason to take it out on us.”

Jicks shrugged. “Some people are like that. And I wouldn’t be at all surprised to discover the City Council gave him a certain amount of money to feed and house us once we proved ourselves, and he decided to skim as much of it as he could. That’s why he fed us far away from anyone else, so no one else knew what he was doing.”

Once they had all the supplies moved, it was suppertime, and they joined the others in the Great Hall. And waited. And waited.

Finally just as Master Vance, stomach growling, was about to explode with anger, a boy appeared in the door. “Will ye not come over to the inn, Masters?” he said, in a tremulous soprano. “Yer dinner been waiting there this half candlemark.”

Master Vance’s demeanor completely changed. The anger washed from his face, and his entire body relaxed. They all got to their feet and followed the boy out the door, crossing the square to the inn on the other side.

When they got to the inn, oh! The change! They were ushered to a good table on the hearth. Slices of leg of lamb right off the roast at the fire were cut for them, and placed on a bed of roasted root vegetables to absorb the juices. There was good, strong beer, not the ale that they now knew had been collected from unfinished mugs and thinned down with water, and some kind of nut tart to finish. “Ye’ll be eating here from now on,” said the innkeeper, when they tendered their compliments and satisfaction. “And it’s ashamed I am of the swill Hizzoner had me send to ye.”

Abi was pleased to see that the three men were so satiated that they had temporarily forgotten about Karsites and demons, and went up to bed in a jolly frame of mind, talking about how they intended to rebuild that wall.

•   •   •

With Stev on the box of the wagon, Jicks and Abi mounted up on their hinnies. The sun wasn’t even up yet, and Abi glanced up at the attic of the Town Hall, dark against a lightening sky. “They’ll be all right, won’t they?” she asked anxiously.

Jicks laughed. “As all right as we are, probably better.” She nodded at the wagon, which had had diagrams and symbols written all over the wooden bed and the canvas top in indelible ink, and countless little charms sewn onto the front and rear canvas flaps. Even the hinnies had charms fastened to their bridles and saddles. “Once the Karsites find out about us, and they will, eventually, we’ll be the rod that attracts lightning. The Karsites won’t even look for the others.”

I’m not quite sure how comforting that is.