Nothing at all.

The Sleth children, if there had ever been any, must have been one-legged pigeons. No regular monsters would have let him escape alive.

Of course, there probably hadn’t been a thing in those woods besides squirrels and mice. The sound he’d heard was most certainly somebody’s renegade pig.

Coward, he told himself, and bent over, resting his hands on his knees. He was such a coward.

“Where’s the handcart?”

Talen turned. Da sat in the shady side of the barn, sharpening his scythe. Seeing that great horse of a man brought immense relief.

“Back at the bridge,” said Talen. He took a breath.

“Ah, that’s what I like to see. A boy who races home to work and leaves the chickens to fend for themselves.”

“Da,” said Talen. “The bailiff wants you.”

“We’re mowing the fields now. The bailiff can wait.”

Then he stopped and looked at Talen more closely. “Is that blood? What happened to your face?”

Talen poured out everything that had happened, including his run through the woods. As the story progressed, Da stroked the braids of his beard with increasing anger.

When Talen finished, Da set his scythe aside and stood.

“Are you going?”

“It appears I am,” said Da.

“Should we bring our bows?” asked Talen. “Or would billhooks be better?”

“Billhooks?” asked Da.

“In case we’re attacked.”

Da grunted. “You’re going out to glean. We’ve got a field that needs stacking.”

“But the hatchlings,” said Talen.

“The hatchlings,” said Da. “Son, did you not learn anything from your adventure this morning? Even if the children were Sleth, the greater risk is being mistaken for a Soul-eater by an idiot with hunt fever. We’re talking about two children, however ferocious they may be.” Da shook his head. “You said a Fir-Noy rider brought the message? That’s the problem right there.”


“Shouldn’t we at least give the warnings some credit until we find out otherwise?”

“Sparrow was a good man,” said Da. He heaved a great sigh.

Talen had not known the smith very well. However, he’d always wondered about his name. He’d thought it funny such a mighty man would be named for such a little bird. Talen, Ke, and Nettle were named after noteworthy ancestors. His sister was named so she might be granted all the qualities—the strength, life, purpose—of a River. But Sparrow? Talen had found out that the smith’s family had a long line of Sparrows, all named after an actual bird that had saved one of the family’s progenitors from drowning. He’d always wanted to hear that tale, but now he wasn’t so sure.

A great weariness seemed to descend upon Da. “You could search this whole land. You could search the whole Nine Clans, and not find Sparrow’s better.”

“But he was Sleth,” said Talen.

Da shook his head. “If Sparrow was Sleth, then fish swim in the deep blue sky.” He turned to Talen. “Do you still have the peppercorns?”

Talen nodded. He opened the small pouch hanging around his neck that served as his purse, poured out the corns, and handed them over.

Da took them with his large fingers and carefully placed them in his own pouch.

“Get out to the field and help with the stacking,” said Da.