He wanted to be alone at his pebble-throwing place, but Vass was waiting for him. She sat on the low stone wall, playing a string game with her fingers. She didn’t look up. Rownie climbed the wall and sat beside her.

“Did the Mayor give you your own house?” he asked.

“Oh yes,” said Vass. “A dusty and ghoul-haunted place right here on the Fiddleway, and it’s all my very own.”

“He promised you a house in Northside,” Rownie said.

“He did,” Vass agreed, “but he’s less happy with me now than he was—even though I got him safely through the tunnel. But I don’t really mind. I’m not so fond of Northside, and it isn’t a bad thing to live in sanctuary. Can’t arrest anyone on the bridge.”

She got one finger stuck in her string game, and tried to untangle it. She cursed. The web of string turned to ash and blew away. She cursed again, fished more string from a pouch at her belt, and started over. “Speaking of sanctuary, I wouldn’t leave the Fiddleway for a while. The Lord Mayor is unhappy with you. I’ve seen several posters with your face and name.”

“I don’t have a name,” said Rownie. “I only have my brother’s name, made small.” He said it without any bitterness, but Vass flinched at her own words turned back on her.

“I think it’s your name, now,” she said.

“Maybe.” Rownie looked out at the River, which still flowed higher than its usual custom. “Maybe it is my name.” He made it more true by saying it aloud.

Vass got her fingers stuck in the string again. She bit back a curse, and slowly untangled her fingers. She seemed to be struggling with words as much as she struggled with the string.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said. “I’m sorry I brought the Mayor and his Captain down on you. I’m sorry about Rowan. I didn’t know what they had done to him. I really didn’t know. I thought handing you over to the Mayor wouldn’t be nearly as bad as what Graba would’ve probably done to you. I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

Rownie looked at her, surprised. “Thanks,” he said.

Vass looked at him, and then looked away. “It seems like Graba might actually leave you alone. Southside didn’t flood. She’ll be happy about that, as happy as she ever gets, and she knows you had some part in it. So she’ll probably let you be.”

“Good,” said Rownie. “I’m glad I don’t have to worry so much about pigeons.”

The two of them watched the River flow beneath the Fiddleway. Then Vass gave up on her string game, and climbed down from the wall. “I’ll be here if you need anything cursed or charmed,” she said.