Nessa frowned but grudgingly agreed—the fear that had shaped their morning was waning with each passing hour.

When Myntas finally returned, he came carrying a large woven basket. “Look what I’ve found for you.” Coming around the booth, he put the basket beside Rae. “Perfectly daughter-Rae-sized.”

It was perfectly sized; Rae, peering within, could easily see herself curled inside the reedy structure. But drawing close… something… oh, something was wrong. Leaning over it, she felt a sudden welling of terror and grief; she smelled something that seemed all dark terror and grief, and she clapped her hand to her mouth and nose, desperate to be away.

Myntas, seeing her expression, dipped his round head and took a deep whiff. “Yes, sorry for that.” Reaching inside, he pulled out a dark raggedy thing and held it aloft for Mop and Nessa to see. “I got the basket from a furrier who used it for his pelts. Some have a fairly musky odor, but I thought she could hide beneath this one”—he shook the raggedy thing—“in case anyone looks inside.” Still holding the dark thing, he knelt beside Rae. “It’s not so bad, is it? Just to hide you for a while?”

Rae stared at the thing. Some rough fur, still almost in the shape of something. What was it? What had it been? Some four-legged beast. Even the almost-shape made her want to cry. Her chin trembled. She looked away, unable to bring herself to answer.

“Of course not,” said Mop. “It’s perfect. How can we thank you, Myntas?”

“No need. No, keep that.” Myntas nudged aside Mop’s proffered coins. “I traded it for an old nanny goat I’ll be glad not to lead home, and I’ll be gladder still to know I helped keep your daughter safe.” He rested his hand on Mop’s shoulder. “I’ll be back before the market closes to help you carry Rae out.”

“I’m sure I can manage—”

“Nonsense. It will be too awkward to carry easily.”

As Myntas disappeared into the crowds, Nessa encouraged Rae to climb into her new hiding place. “Won’t you be more comfortable here than under the fleece?”

But Rae, shuddering again at the musty smell permeating the reeds, shook her head at Ness.

“Rae.” Nessa frowned. “Don’t be ungrateful. Myntas has done us a great kindness. I think he must have traded more than two old nannies for this.…”

“It’s not…” Rae flushed. “I know this was kind. But, Ness—” How could she make her understand? “It’s… it’s terrible,” she said at last, lamely.

“A smell will not hurt you.” Nessa glowered but did not push further. “If you’d rather sit sweating under the fleece until we leave…” She pulled the wool around Rae’s ears.

Yes, Rae thought. She would rather sweat under the fleece all day than ever, ever be near the smell that was all terror and darkness and grief.