Sara shook her head. “We need two.” She pointed to one and asked to see it. The woman told her it was her biggest seller. But Prin saw another on display that captured her interest. While plain white and ordinary on the outside, the bottom of the inside displayed the image of a mage, arms raised, sparkles at his fingertips. She giggled.
“Think that’s funny, do you?” the old woman asked. “You’d like to pee on a mage?”
Prin burst out laughing, then said, “Tell me that’s a young mage, and I’ll buy it.”
The old woman lifted the pot and pretended to carefully check the painting inside. “Why, yes, I do believe it is a young mage.”
They located the steeple standing above the skyline, and headed in that direction. Another raven, or perhaps the same one, flew past Prin, so low she ducked and felt the puff of air on her cheek from the wings. As it passed, it squawked for attention, then said in a clear, soft voice, “Hannah, beware.”
Prin said, “Did you hear that?”
Sara had her head turned away, looking off into the distance, distracted. She had missed it again. “What?”
“Never mind.”
However, when they passed a locksmith, Prin said, “Hey, let’s stop here.”
Sara protested, “We can’t carry any more.”
“How will you sleep tonight knowing there may be a hundred keys to fit our locks in the hands of thieves and murderers?”
“Okay, maybe we can manage to carry two locks. Small ones.”
The seller was an odd little man of forty, or fifty. Not only did he wear a full beard, but a swath of material covered him from his nose to his chin disguising his features. Prin hoped he wore it for decoration and not because of an injury. She spotted locks like those on their building’s doors and pointed. “We need two like those, but with different keys that this one.” She held up the key to their new home.
He said calmly, in a faintly amused tone, “Are you sure you want one like that?”
“Why? They look solid enough to me. And they are big.”
“Solid, yes. Secure, no.”
Sara said, “Are we in the wrong place? Those locks are massive.”
In answer, he removed one of the familiar-looking padlocks and pulled the key. “See here? The lock is thinner than your palm, and the key is inserted from the front. There is only space inside for only one of five patterns for the key. Any thief who cannot open a lock of this kind with one of the five keys he carries in his pocket is a fool.”
Sara’s tone turned sharp. “And of course, you have a far better one for only twice the cost.”
“Cost is relative. What will the cost be if a thief enters the place you intend to lock? Far more than the expense of a better lock, I’ll wager.”
Prin didn’t see the man as trying to over-sell them. She said, “Show us the kind you have in your shop or home.”
“A baker always has good bread on his table, and a cobbler wears nice shoes. You don’t require the kind of quality lock I have, but I will show you one far better than that simple padlock, and it does not cost much more.”
“No,” Prin said sternly. “I want to see what you use, and I want to know why.”
Sara took a step back, placed her purchases on a workbench, and let Prin continue. The man pulled a lock from under his counter. Instead of the keyhole in the center of the lower portion, the lock was solid metal. He turned it sideways to reveal where the key would be inserted. He then opened his fist and showed them the key. It was a solid bar as long as the lock was wide. Along the lock were depressions at odd intervals, of varying depths.
Prin saw at a glance that instead of a few possible key patterns, the lock contained hundreds, perhaps thousands. “The cost?”
The difference in the costs was not as great as she expected. She would have paid twice what he quoted and still have been happy. “We’ll take two, with the same key for both. And do you have a smaller version for use inside?”
“Yes, I can have them completed in two days, but there are other, cheaper locks I can sell you, almost as good.”
“Two days?” Prin protested louder than she meant. “We need them today.”
He didn’t become offended or upset. Instead, he reached back under his counter again and pulled a pair of locks that were fastened together, with a pair of keys hanging from them. “These are the locks I intended to sell you. Not quite as good, but if you tell me where you live, I will come by in two days and replace these with the better ones.”
“These are better than the regular ones?”
“Far better.”
Prin paid him and hefted the pair of locks that were as large as her hand. She glanced at the load she carried, and it didn’t include any food. “Do you know someone who can help us carry all this? We sort of overdid it.”
He cupped his hands to his mouth and called. A boy of eight with two new front teeth too big for his face arrived, eager to help. They split up the load and quickly left the bazaar before they found more things to buy. The boy was grateful for the small copper coin they paid him.
When they arrived at their new building, the lock of the front door hung open. Prin pulled her throwing knife and opened the door carefully, prepared to let the knife fly. Nobody was inside, and neither was her satchel. While Sara and the boy set their purchases inside, Prin went to the pile of rubble and moved a few boards aside with her toe. Everything of value was still hidden there.
They replaced the locks with the new ones and worked them open and closed several times. When the boy was gone, Sara said, “Well, the truth is that you’re less trusting than me, and I’m glad for that. The new locks will make me feel safer, especially after your things were stolen the very first day.”
“The dog will make us even safer.”
“Dog? What dog?”
Prin kicked the door jamb in anger at their home having been violated, then placed her knife back in the sheath between her shoulder blades. She snarled, “The great big ugly beast we’re going to buy tomorrow. The one with all the teeth.”
Sara chuckled. “The one that eats thieves?”
“That’s the one.”
CHAPTER SIX
They woke cold and sore from sleeping on the hard stone floor and the lack of the blankets and sleeping mats they’d forgotten to buy the day before. Shortly after waking, El, the carpenter, beat on their door. He strode inside, made a few measurements, took notes, and inspected the inside of the roof. Back outside, he climbed a ladder he’d brought and walked around on the roof before climbing down.
Prin waited for the news, prepared for the worst and she considered seeking more estimates as her mother had warned her to do before hiring workmen. Always get another bid. As a lady in the Queens court, her mother had observed many business transactions before moving to the seclusion of the Earl’s castle in the Darkling Forest.
However, the man she greeted wore a lopsided grin and said, “Good news. The roof is sound for many more years. Oh, it needs a few minor repairs, but all are quick and will cost almost nothing.”
Now, for the bad news, Prin thought, and the increase in price. He's being nice, so we’ll accept the higher bid for the other work and think it a good price. “The loft?”
“Good news there also. The walls of the building are solid, the floor is, too. The loft that burned left behind the stone supports that held up the last loft, which is a little larger than you asked for, but will be far cheaper to build because I can duplicate the previous construction and reuse the existing bracing.”