The winter remained cruel, even within the walls of Whesirki.

  Rue had managed to steal a little more to give a better chance to her survival, but it simply was not enough. The first thing she had nabbed was a green overcoat, padded and warm. It was the color of the tops of dense pinewood, earthy and uniform. The second was an orange scarf, which she thought looked ridiculous, but the fashion here seemed to favor bright color. For every person in neutral tones, there was another wearing orange, pink, blue, red, all sorts that made Rue think of them as a living patch of spring wildflowers, fluttering around in a field.

  Thinking of spring almost made it feel like it could be warmer soon. It would be, but the stretch would feel longer than it was.

  Every night for the next week, Rue struggled to find some place to sleep where she would not freeze, and where she could feel remotely comfortable. The first one she had rented a room in a hostel, but she could not sleep. The beds were crowded, and she could not make herself small enough to escape the space of the people next to her, merchants and travelers and she assumed others, like her, who wanted Whesirki to be home but had no home within it.

  The next day she discovered Snake’s Way. It was a street name, but it encompassed far more than a single street in the area that it was referred to. Snake’s Way was the section of the city where those less fortunate lived. Rue realized it might even be where those without magical affinity might mainly preside. There was also a higher increase of non-human beings here. She saw dwarves, as well as a petite sort of faeries that almost passed as human, if not for their distinctive facial features. There was also a small group of satyrs clumped tightly together, a variety of furred humanoids, smaller ratfolk, and even one larger and scaled person, which may have been a draegonkind. She had heard of them, but this would be the first she had seen.

  The sight of any of the humanoids didn’t surprise her. It was well known that if there was an animal, there was an intelligent, sapient humanoid. Some of them didn’t like being called humanoids and had their own preferred species name, but Rue didn’t fuss over those details often.

  Several of the species were common enough, or simply just uncommon but present, further in the outreaches of the kingdom. Faeries were the least common apart from the scaled creatures, but Rue had seen both mostly in the context of trading caravans, sticking together.

  Humans were still the most common people in Snake’s Way, though it was significantly more diverse than the well maintained parts of the city that she had seen.

  It was here, in this new mix of people, that Rue instinctively found herself more comfortable lurking. No one stared and there were far less guards. The vendors and merchants here, though, were much more wise to theft. Rue tried that first day, and found herself slapped and shoved to the ground, with a harsh choice of threatening words to try again. That was still preferable to getting arrested again.

  Rue had remembered to go through what was acquired from Ferrow’s bag. She stiffened at the sight of blood on the blanket still rolled up, but there wasn’t another option, so it was to be used each night. She did discover a pouch of coins that the bounty from the temple had gone into, but she wanted to save as much as she could to get through to finding a job.

  She had overheard that the merchant had his coin purse on his body, while she had been in jail. This must have been a second stash, but Rue couldn’t help but be irritated that she hadn’t searched his person for anything additional.

  Rue didn’t linger on that regret as she envisioned needing to search his bloodied body.

  There were a few other items: A compass, quills with ink pots - one of black ink and a few with blue, and some with green - a journal, that Rue couldn’t read a word of, and several folded maps. Rue spent only a short time looking at those, and realized several were of lands she had never seen, and some of ocean and sea lanes. They were kept, figuring she could sell them to someone.

  There was a possibility that the journal had the information Captain Schiro had sought, such as the client list, but she had no plans to hand it over.

  She had stowed her bloodstained clothing within. It would do well to be burned, but she couldn’t make herself, for whatever reason.

  The coin got her rations of food, and the blanket through nights. There were hollowed shell of buildings that had burning fires within, a mass of sleeping bodies, and she would join them quietly. No one told her to leave, and many seemed unassociated. She assumed they were like her.

  The close-knit quarters sleeping right on the floor reminded her of home.

  There was some comfort found there, which was unexpected. How long had she dreamed of a place of her own to sleep?

  A week in and that dream seemed smaller than ever.

  The days were spent slinking through Snake’s Way looking for a job. The experience that she had did not translate well into skills any of the shopkeepers were interested in. Rue did not discriminate where she asked, even stopping to talk to a few blacksmiths, silversmiths, stone masons, papermakers, threadweavers. No one had any interest in hiring help, or they already had help.

  Rue even went to general stores, food stands, including a noodle stall where the woman laughed her away, looking at Rue as if she were soon-to-be dead meat, and she were a vulture. The places where she thought there was a pinch of hope weren’t any better. She went to several butcher shops, and the few places that dealt in leather work. Neither needed apprentices, saying it’d cost too much in the end, or that their children would grow into the work.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Other places were too crowded for her to consider going into. Some taverns and bars were busy no matter the hour. The noise and crowd made her skin crawl the moment she went in, and it couldn’t be tolerated.

  It was that full week mark that Rue emerged from the dilapidated section of the city to expand her search. She still had coins leftover, but they threatened to dwindle with thievery being a risk. She needed a job.

  Instead of going back to the market, Rue moved north into the city. It grew fairly residential, more dense as she came across buildings that loomed three stories high, sometimes even four, that all seemed decorated in homely ways with balconies outside of upper windows, clothing lines, even gardens in small plots.

  The store fronts dwindled, mostly shifting into general supply stores, and grocers. Few other random supplies stores otherwise, places for residents rather than travelers.

  Hours of wandering became hours of rejection.

  It was frustrating enough that Rue considered going back to her old life. She daydreamed of it while she walked.

  With a decent weapon, a handaxe being her preferred, it was easy business robbing those on the road. Better in the springtime where tracks didn’t let anyone follow you.

  Much easier in a larger group. Still doable alone. She could target solo travelers without guards.

  It was the life she had left, the nature of her family. Bandits.

  It wasn’t as if she left because she disagreed with it; only because of her family.

  The weak and unprotected deserved to lose whatever they had if they could not protect it.

  The thoughts were replaced with a flash of Ferrow’s contorted features as the life drained from his eyes, Rue’s knife plunging into his body, as she protected what was hers.

  I am not weak.

  The humiliation at failing to find an honest job, though, made those words feel brittle and false.

  It was when Rue was ready to give up and spend the rest of her coin on camping gear, that she went into one last building. She could not tell what it was from the outside, unable to read the sign, but she could read the word ‘OPEN’ on a stand - one of the handful memorized.

  Poised at the end of the stairs were statues of owls, guarding the entrance.

  The stairs went downwards, into the ground, which was unusual for the buildings she had seen so far. She descended them, and it took considerable effort to pry open the heavy, hardwood doors, where she slipped inside.

  It was warm inside, which urged her easily through a short foyer with a rug, where she wiped her feet for a moment before continuing on. There wasn’t much to wipe, the streets were shockingly clear and even mostly dry, even during active snowfall. Rue had watched snow fall and dissolve just inches above the stone pathways, and she couldn’t figure out what didn’t let it stay. Not every road was like this, but it seemed the main pathways and wagon-sized roads had this anti-snow magic.

  There were another set of doors just in front, already opened and leading into a room with a large wooden desk right at the center. It was mildly decorated with a plush looking area rug, a few plants,

  At the desk sat a woman with bronze skin, a head of tightly curled black hair, and small horns sticking out of them. A satyr, Rue realized after a moment.

  A satyr working in a city? That’s unusual.

  Even more unusual, even, was that she was working in a building positioned underground, in stone-carved earth. Satyrs were common enough people, but they never adhered to the typical village life, much less a city, and they always stayed close-knit with family.

  “Can I help you?” The satyr asked. Her accent did indeed sound local enough, though Rue wasn’t an expert on what a local from Whesirki should sound like.

  “I’m lookin’ for a job.”

  The desk woman tilted her head, and looked Rue up and down with her eyes without moving her head.

  “How are your reading skills?” She asked. She already sounded unimpressed.

  Rue shrugged. “It’s, uh…It could be better I guess. Do I need to read a lot to work here?”

  “It is a library. Yes.”

  Rue winced. She cleared her throat and waved a hand. “Okay, sure,” she played it off as if she had been able to read the sign. “But it’s not like I’d be reading every book in here.” She blinked, then looked uncertain. “...Would I? What would I even do here?”

  The satyr looked wholly unimpressed by this point. “You were the one who asked me for a job. What did you expect to be doing?”

  Rue floundered for a moment, then spied a cart sitting just behind the woman, slotted with several books.

  “I can…Uh, put books away! Right? People take books, and they…Gotta be put away?” She looked up, and around. “Are those all of the books?” She asked, not seeing any other apart from the cart.

  The satyr looked downright dumbfounded.

  Without a word, she pressed…Something, on her desk, and the stone behind her shifted. Rue jumped, eyes going wide as she watched the stone move apparently on its own accord. She didn’t see anything moving it.

  “What the fuck?” Rue spouted. “How’d you do that?”

  The satyr tilted her head, but a flicker of a smile crossed her lips. “Magic,” she said.

  Rue’s cheeks heated. “Oh. Obviously.” She bit her tongue. She had seen magic, but none that moved objects like that.

  “Alright. You’re not from here, I see. That’s fine.” Rue opened her mouth to speak, but the satyr cut her off and continued. “Take the cart with you and go find Thaddeus. He’s one of my assistants. He’s on the fourth floor.” She nodded back at the cart.

  Rue squinted with uncertainty. “Why?”

  The woman opposite of her lifted her brows. “What do you think? So I can see if you’re a good fit or not. Go on, now.”

  Rue went around and grabbed the cart. She pushed it, feeling the weight of the dozen heavy tomes upon it as she pushed it through the opened door. As she went through, she looked subtly side to side, trying to find the magical mechanism that allowed the door to open like that, but saw nothing.

  With a grunt, she went on to search for this Thaddeus.