Then a small hatch opened in the side of the wagon with a bang and a snap. Oil lamps burned in bright colors around it. Cheerful music played from one of the music boxes inside.

An intricate wooden puppet in gentleman’s clothes popped through the open hatch.

“Welcome!” the puppet said in a voice that was almost Semele’s. “Welcome, one and everyone! The evening’s entertainment will now begin!”

The crowd of children pushed forward to gather near the puppet stage.

Thomas sheathed his sword and stood aside with a mutter and a grumble. “Unhitch the mule, Essa,” he said. “Help me tie it to that tree. The metal beast had better be strong enough to move it aside.”

Jansin smiled, smug. He had demanded a show from them, and now he had gotten his way.

Rownie looked for the silver coin. He couldn’t help but look for it. He had never even seen silver before. He didn’t find it—one of the other smaller children must have picked it up first. Rownie gave up and pushed through the crowd to stand behind Jansin. The older boy might still be inclined to pick a fight, and if he fought the rest would fight with him.

The show began.

“I hope there’s blood and guts in it!” one of the children said, hopping up and down on her toes with excitement.

An elegant lady puppet took the stage. Semele’s voice sang a story behind it.

Rownie tried to watch the puppet show and Jansin at the same time. It wasn’t easy, and he was distracted by other puppet shows in his head and memory. Rowan used to make shadow puppets against the walls of Graba’s shack—when he still lived in Graba’s shack. He could make shadows of sailing ships and animals, horses and goats and scampering molekeys. He could make silhouettes of people in tall hats or long gowns. Even the loudest and the rudest Grubs would watch and listen. Rownie always held the candle—a dangerous thing to hold over the straw-covered floor, but he was careful. His favorite shadow puppet was the bird, because that was the only one he could manage to make himself, with thumbs hooked together and fingers making feathers. Rowan had promised to teach Rownie how to twist his hands into other puppet shapes, but he hadn’t gotten around to it yet.

The audience of children laughed at something on the little stage. Rownie shook his head, trying to shake out the shadows, and paid better attention.