She spent an hour wandering in the market square of Merridell, among the striped booths and fruit-laden wagons. It didn't work for her. Jaedis found comfort in the marketplace, not Maelyn. Her only real solace was books.

Runa Realm had no bookshop. Only a stationery store, which sold parchments and ink for writing, blank journals, such as the one Maelyn had bought, and wax for sealing documents. The owner had set aside a single shelf for when books came into the realm, and Maelyn owned copies of them all. Seven books to buy in all the realm.

She stepped out again, noting the market crowd had grown. Before long, Jaedis would probably arrive to purchase cloth or candles or cuts of meat. There was always something to buy. At times, Maelyn worried about the way Jaedis spent money. She claimed to make only necessary purchases, but there seemed to be an awful lot of them.

"Morning, Lady Ollyn," Maelyn said to a wimpled noblewoman who passed her to enter the stationery shop. Though she knew the old woman had heard her, she gave no greeting and her mouth hardened. Maelyn felt her barrel drain a few drops.

Shulay had come up with that, something she called the Inner Barrel. Everyone had one, waiting to be filled with good things: love, reassurance, acceptance, and so on. If your barrel was full, you felt happy and secure. But unkindness could drain the barrel, drop by drop, like wine out of a spigot. Maelyn felt as if she worked with her barrel half-empty most of the time. The old woman had just drained it more.

A man on horseback entered the square, and his blond hair made Maelyn's heart leap. It sank when she saw it wasn't Willow, just someone similar. She bought a handful of cherries from the nearest wagon and read the signboard in the square as she ate them. None of the posts interested her except one, describing a 'Tournament of Temptations' to be held in Hexwick. Or rather, already held in Hexwick, since the tournament was dated two days ago. Such events meant dangerous contests and high-stakes games of chance, which Maelyn tried to discourage in her realm. She pulled the post down and sighed. She would have to address this later.

She glanced again at the man on horseback, annoyed he wasn't Willow. This wouldn't do. Willow was only a messenger, working for King Jarrod, no less. It might not hurt for Maelyn to like him, but it could be dangerous to trust him. She needed to know who he really was. Why Uncle Jarrod wanted him.

After several minutes of wrestling with herself, Maelyn left the market square and directed her steps down to Bargain Alley, a creeping lane she seldom visited. There she located a shop called Bells & Bobbles. This was one of the last things Father had told her before he died: Runa Realm had a spy. He worked at the pawn shop.

"Nobody likes it. Nobody wishes these things were necessary," her father had said. "But sometimes you need to get information with another's eyes and ears. Ask for Val, and pay the price. You will get what you need."

Maelyn disliked the disorder of the shop. No theme, just curiosities of every kind hanging from hooks on the walls, or cluttering the floor. A life-size carving of a gorilla she found distasteful to look at. Hideous furniture no one could possibly want to own. Gaudy jewelry hanging over a counter where a woman relaxed on one elbow.

"Well, well, Crown Princess, to what do I owe the honor?" the lady said.

Maelyn felt suddenly shy. "I'm looking for Val."

The lady bobbed her head and smiled. "At your service."

"You're Val?" Maelyn had distinctly expected a man. The spy was a woman?

"Valina." The woman grinned. "Do you have a trinket for me?"

Maelyn frowned. "No."

Valina laughed. "I see your father didn't teach you everything. I think you do have a trinket for me! That was the only reason your father came in here."

Maelyn glanced at the gaudy jewelry above the woman's head, but was beginning to understand. This was a game of words. Trinket must mean a job or mission.

"I do have a trinket," Maelyn said.

The woman waved her closer. "Who? Or what?"

"The new messenger from Grunwold." Maelyn spent a minute explaining why Willow's situation was unusual. "I don't believe the messenger himself is the problem. It's the king I don't trust. I want you to learn everything you can about Willow. You may have to travel to Grunwold to do it."

"Done that many times. I'll fit right in." Valina winked.

"Will you?" Maelyn judged Valina to be about thirty years of age. Neither attractive nor homely, she looked like a typical woman of Runa, with brownish hair, round cheeks, and pale skin. But her clothing was definitely 'Hexwickin' in style, with her bared shoulders and bright sash around her waist. Father said Hexwick spies were the best.

Valina laughed. "You don't know me, honey muffin! I can look like a hoity-toity duchess, or a street derelict if I choose. My face is just plain enough that no one takes notice. For example, have you ever seen me before?"

Maelyn shook her head.

Valina grinned. "Yet I have spoken to you in the market on three separate occasions. Once as a beggar—you tossed me a coin. Don't worry, I like being unmemorable. Makes me good at what I do."

"What is your price?" Maelyn asked.

"One hundred goldens up front, plus travel costs," Valina said. "Another hundred when I deliver the information. Even if there's not much to be had."

Very high. But Maelyn had expected worse. "I'll bring the money tomorrow. Now how shall I point him out to you?"

"Just tell me where he stays. I'll do the rest. You said a blond man?"

Maelyn nodded. "Yes. And tall—just over six feet, I think. Wide blue eyes, rather boyish-looking. I think he may be twenty, or even twenty-two, but he looks younger. He has a cheerful face, a winning smile, and a clear way of looking at you, as if he understands everything with just a glance. He is generally soft-spoken, and his words are thoughtful and kind. Confident... but not arrogant. He just knows his own worth."

Valina was smiling in a rather suggestive way.

"Oh I—I don't mean—"

"Never mind. That's more than enough." Valina gave a light laugh. "Might even have seen the fellow, now that I think of it."

Maelyn knew she was blushing. "Well... I'll leave you now. I'll bring the money tomorrow." She left the shop feeling as if her skin were covered in grime. Necessary or not, this felt so underhanded. Like she was betraying a friend.

He's not your friend. Remember that.

She passed two more hours in the market, bought nothing, and accomplished little. She needed a book. Had Willow tried yet to trade The Carnivorous Carriage with the miser? She hadn't expected a delay this long. Was he still in the kingdom? Or had he gone home to Grunwold?

Maybe he had stolen the book and she would never see him again. That seemed improbable. But as she had learned from her father—and even more so from the vanishing servants—that when you ruled a kingdom, you couldn't trust anyone.