Book 1 - Chapter 2.3
Sol found a back entrance into the town that connected it to the wharf. It was small and had less traffic than the front gate, which was already thick with people arriving with packs of food and other goods. Night had not followed her, and Sol breathed a sigh of relief when she eventually looked over her shoulder and saw the field empty behind her.
Sol paused at the entrance and gazed down at the wharf where boats made out of light beaten metal were just heading off to fish the morning's catch. She watched as the fishermen wrapped up coils of rope with their wiry arms, and she walked away from the back entrance and towards the boats below.
She stepped tentatively onto one jut where a lanky older woman was directing her small fishing crew for embarkment on their modest skiff.
"Hello!" Sol called out to her. The older woman glanced over her shoulder and her eyes narrowed when they alighted on Sol. "Hi" she said sharply as she continued her work of untangling her nets, her dark brown hands moving deftly through the knots.
"I have a question for you." Sol continued.
"What do you want?" snapped the woman, and when Sol didn't speak right away she added "I don't have all morning, dear."
Sol flinched at her harsh tone, but pressed on. "Do you know anyone here who could spare some iron and a good length of rope?"
"Certainly not me." The elder said with a with a harsh laugh.
"Do you know a store that is selling it? I would need rope like the kind you're all using to tie up your boats."
"We don't sell rope. We need it for our work."
"I have coin. The inn accepted it."
"Well we're not an inn here." The woman finished her detangling, stood up and barked a command to set off at the two youths that been helping her. As her helpers unmoored the boat and pushed it off with long metal poles the older woman turned back to Sol and said. "You could see about iron at the blacksmith."
"Alright, thank you." Sol said with a nod. The older woman tilted her head slightly in return as her boat drifted into the deeper river waters.
Sol returned to the back entrance and passed through into the town. She wandered the back alleys for half an hour until she finally got directions to the blacksmith from a woman in the middle of emptying her chamber pot for the morning.
She found the shop a couple blocks away from the town centre, not too far from the inn.
The blacksmith was preoccupied talking to a young apprentice and Sol recognized the older man as the leader of the pack from the day before that wanted to either drive out Night, or kill her. Sol hesitated on the threshold, just close enough to feel the ambient heat of the furnace. The blacksmith caught sight of her and shouted, "Stranger! You better not have brought that shrouded curse back in here with you."
Sol kept her face calm and said "No, she's not with me."
"What did you do with her?"
Sol shook her head. "She's not going to be a problem for you, alright?"
He looked up at her with a grim frown and then said, "I'll let it be then. You survived a night outside. Enough said, hm?"
"Sure." Sol said.
"So, why are you back?"
"I need some iron. I have coin to pay for it."
"We're out of iron. I used up the last of it a week ago building new window grates for the buildings in the centre."
Sol held out a hand in supplication, "Even iron nails will do."
"Don't have any of those either. Not until the tithe is over and the traders stop by again."
Sol scratched her head in frustration. "Not even scraps?"
"What do you need this for?" He was watching her with some suspicion, but also curiosity. Sol, taking a chance on his curious side, leaned in conspiratorially.
"I have an idea of what's beyond the mist, and I know how to deal with it and help everyone in this town."
The blacksmith became rigid and silent but kept watching her, so Sol continued.
"It's the rest of the world out there! The mist is an illusion crafted by beings known as the Fae. I just need some long rope and iron and I should be able to get you all through and free to the other side."
"Sure." Said the blacksmith. "Sure sure sure." The curiosity had long left his face as his expression blanked. "I don't have any scraps. Sorry, stranger. Thank you for taking care of our problem though."
"I know it sounds crazy, that's what Fae illusions do. They warp reality, which is what's happening here."
"Listen, I don't have any iron." The blacksmith gave Sol a pat on her shoulder, which she twitched away from. "I can't help you, and I've got other orders to fill. You look tired. Maybe now that you're alone you can get a proper room at the inn and sleep away your troubles."
"Who can I talk to who will actually listen to me?" Sol said with practiced steadiness.
The blacksmith shrugged and said "Maybe one of the day drinkers at the inn?" He chuckled.
"Or you could talk to Mister Prosper." Said his apprentice next to him. He was dark skinned and gangly with soft grey eyes and the sparse beginnings of facial hair. He was the youngest person Sol had seen so far, probably only rivalled by the two who were helping the fisherwoman. "He should be in the town centre overseeing the filling of the tithe."
"I don't think Prosper would have the patience for it." The blacksmith muttered.
"Maybe he would listen to her since she y'know" the youth made a quick slicing motion with his forefinger across his throat, "took care of that mage."
The blacksmith rounded on his apprentice and hit him sharp and hard across the head with his open palm.
"Shut your mouth boy! Go look after the fire!!"
The youth flinched away towards the angry red glow of the furnace. The blacksmith then rounded on Sol "And you, get outta my forge! Go bother Prosper if that's your goal."
Sol backed away with her hands raised in non-threat and took her leave from the shop.