Fen is supposed to meet me on the lane beyond my garden, near the path to the door. A man shaped shadow wearing a long dark cloak stands where our path meets the public lane. The shape seems like I remember when Pol introduced Fen on my last Shadow Market excursion. Of course, his burn-scarred face is fairly distinctive. I squint into the shadows, trying to see under the hood. The man obviously notices my stare, maybe my nervousness, and he steps closer to a patch of bright moonlight. After a quick look around, he pulls down his hood. Scars tear and drip down the left side of his face, then disappear into his tunic. They look shiny, bumpy, and horrible. I'm sure some people are scared or put off by so much damage, but I know we all have scars, at least he knows right where his are. They probably have a tragic or exciting story too. His light blue eyes are a startling and pretty contrast. Shaggy, coppery dark-blonde hair hangs to his shoulders. I wonder if he ever uses the rich strands to hide his face. Even dulled a bit by the silvery light, his hair is enviable.

I nod. He puts the hood back up. When I get within soft speaking distance, I double check by asking, "Fen, right?" Another nod.

He moves a few steps down the quiet lane, his deep brown cloak nearly brushing the hardened surface. He sets our pace at a brisk walk and we move towards the outer wall gate. Trying not to peer under his hood, I fight my curiosity about this man Pol trusts to watch me. Another good bit of moon shines down and we near torches, allowing me to notice there's some pattern at the hem, cuff, and the hood of his cloak. It's subtle, the shades close to the dark sable color. I get another hint of the lovely braided design when we pass another patch of bright moonlight. I wonder at the excess, especially since he doesn't want to draw much attention to himself or his guild.. Is it just vanity? I've heard stories of pirates or thieves who wear fancy garb and jewels. Is his fine clothing a distraction from his damaged skin?

We make quick time. The guard at the outer gate, Morshen I think, is dead asleep snoring up a storm. A pair of young bucks, obviously fresh and drunk from the bouts or faire, pause to watch us walk towards the gate. They elbow one another and even point. We are just two shapeless figures in cloaks, I have no idea why we are drawing their attention. Fen slips between me and the pair, distracting them. Briefly he turns his hooded face towards them and something causes them to backtrack a few steps. Trying to recover turn to study a closed shop on the lane and we continue through the southeast gate.

"What was that ab...?" I began as soon as we turned south.

"You smell of roses,"Fen says; his scrapingly harsh voice is clear with him close next to me. Even with its tortured sound I could hear a smile, I think. He pulls down his hood and sure enough, he is smiling. He has moved his smoother side towards me, probably use to people disliking his maimed features. Fen manages to look fairly handsome. Scars, smokey, voice, and smile. It's too bad some fire hurt him so bad. "That's why they were staring."

"Does it hurt you to talk?" I can't help asking.

He shakes his head. "Not anymore. Just as many scars inside my throat is all."

I smile just a bit at him. "I'm sorry you have to deal with that."

He shrugs, his face smooth of anger or bitterness. "I've long been used to it. I feel sorry for folks who have to hear it. Especially the first few times."

Shaking my head, "That's silly. It's a miracle you can talk with burns inside. I can't even imagine..." My foot catches on a loose rock, he reaches a hand to help but I right myself too quick. I roll my eyes towards him. "Plenty of people make us suffer through their singing. You can't help but talk to communicate."

His laugh is harsh, a stone crashing, then dead leaves brushing in trees. It's fascinating and pure. "You're kinder than I ever expected."

"You thought I would be mean?" That's a strange turnaround. Does Pol think I'm mean? If anyone's mean it's him, sometimes.

"Not mean, exactly. But an old friend of Sumak's? Someone he put up with, and did favors for! Yeah, I thought you might be a bit rough-lifed and maybe cold." He raises his hands, smiling again. "Not that he ever said a thing about your leans, or conversation skills."

"What did he tell you?"

"Your name, and that you two were friends growing up. That you're clever and sometimes..."

"Stubborn. I guarantee he used that word."

Another nod and a smaller smile. "Most important that I'm to protect you from your door, to the market and back."

"Doesn't it feel like a waste of your time? I hate that this..."

"It's not a waste of my time. If he wants it done, I do it." Another shrug and he angles us away from a slow moving horseman headed the opposite way. The horse is a slick coated dark gray mare, her coat gleams when they move past a torch. I feel an unusual and dangerous temptation to reach a hand out and touch the horse's silky shoulder. The horseman is covered head to toe in a dark cloak as well and I can barely hear any of the horse's tack make noise. No rings jingling or loud squeaking leather rubbing. My gut tightens as he disappears into the gloom behind us. "Besides, it's not safe for you alone down here." A short laugh before he adds, "Especially if you are going to smell like you bathed in roses."

I sniff and wrinkle my nose. I can't smell it anymore. Didn't even think about it when I dressed to leave. "I was making rosewater and rose infused oils today. Stupid bottle exploded on me. Luckily I missed my brother or he would have killed me." Sighing, I check my hood and that my bag strap is secure. "Forgot about the smell as I got used to it."

"It's certainly nicer than other smells I could be stuck with." The smile widens. "I once had to chase a fellow through a pig pen full of muck. We both stank by the end of it." Quietly, as we walk he gave me the whole story, except who he was chasing and why. Even with the horrible grate of his voice, he was a good storyteller. I had to put my fist into my mouth a few times to choke back huge laughs.

We quiet when we reach the lane right before the ruins. A few others ahead of us go down the stairs. All of us try to look around discreetly. The market is busier than my first few visits. There is a visible guard inside the door too. Fen tells me, there are more throughout the market, keeping peace and looking for spies. I never realized they would need peacekeepers as well as guards, but it should have occurred to me. Traders in the newer market argue, fight, and undercut each other often enough. I have no idea why I thought crooks would be more circumspect.

"Let's go to Blightdeath tent first, if you need to go." Fen says quietly as he pulls down his hood. I can see the embroidered design now. Two threads are shades lighter and two threads are darker than the cloak material. They interweave in a loose four strand braid that subtly but finely adorns the edge of his hood and the bottom of the long cloak. I admire the design greatly.

"Sure. I do have some items for the Lady."

"Good to get it over with. She's scary enough it gives me knots in my gullet." He turns just a bit to grin at me as he aims us towards that tent shop.

"I doubt that." I point at the edge of his hood resting on his shoulder. "That design is lovely. Very elegant. Did you buy the cloak that way or did you have someone detail it for you?"

He chuckles, not keeping it as quiet as his speaking voice. A merchant selling bladed weapons stares at Fen. Thankfully he doesn't take notice. "Sumak didn't lie when he said you were curious as a pixie in a pie shop." A snort escapes me and I try to cover my nose and mouth. He hears it clear as fine crystal and laughs again. "And that, my friend's friend, is adorable."

"Adorable. Sure. I hope Lady Delphinium flashes her teeth at you."

"You are also cruel. Maybe I should keep notes." He winks at me. The bugger is full of himself. I feel the urge to smack him as I do Moss or Pol when they get too smart with me, but we've just met. He's a dangerous criminal, no matter how nice seeming. Maybe seeing my inner struggle he traces the pattern on his hood and changes the subject. "I commissioned the whole cloak so the length would be perfect. The pattern is called Terran braid. It's always four strands, and always connected in a loop for there is no end." He flips the bottom of the cloak to show me the pattern continues on the inside bottom.

"Wow, that's impressive. I've never heard of the Terran braid, but is it to do with the kingdom or Terra?" I feel like my eyes are wide enough to pop out. He nods. "Isn't that where most of the shifters live?"

His lips straighten and thin. "Some yeah. They are all over that continent though."

I want to understand what I said to upset him but I'm not comfortable asking. "Right, like Nerium. Indigo is from there. I guess I never wondered if he was a shifter." Tugging at my bag strap, I think of the huge merchant, his striking dark skin and painfully deep voice. He could be a shifter I suppose. "It doesn't really matter to me. People are people."

Part of his lip turns up. "People are people huh? What about the Crocodyllus? Or dragons?" His chuckle stops abruptly when he sees we are very near the Blightdeath shop.

"What's a croco...die-lus?"

"Remind me to tell you later." he says softly holding the tent flap for me.

"Fen-not-Fenrus, so good for you to seek us out," Lady Delphinium's dulcet voice carries to us as we step into the door flap. "Greetings, Jaxsi the Daughter of Camellia."

I don't even have to look at Fen, I can feel his stiffness beside me. "Pleasant greetings to you Lady Delphinium, Daughter of Sitral Second Son," I pause trying a weak curtsy and nod to her and her silent companion. "And you Sycamore of Elodea."

"Lady of Blightdeath, I bid you good eve," Fen bows his head a bit to her. I had to hold back a snicker when the Lady smiled blindingly, flashing her fangs right at him.

Since this is not my first interaction with the intimidating pair, I dig quickly in my bag and retrieve the items I think they might want. The usual spot on their table is empty. I was careful this time to split the Goddess Stars, what few I had, in two bundles. One I kept in my bag for Mum.