Free The Dream-Maker's Magic by Sharon Shinn Page A

breads and fruits and ales, and all of it at very reasonable prices. Moving still with that careful slowness, we circled the whole fair once, so Gryffin could observe what choices were available to him and decide where to spend his limited funds. I made a quick foray through the hot and densely packed booths and came back to describe what riches could be found in the areas denied to Gryffin. We decided, recklessly, that only the most accessible booths deserved our patronage, so we made a strange but satisfying meal from an assortment of vegetable skewers, cheese rounds, and exotic eggs, hard-boiled and edible but dropped from no poultry I’d ever come across. None of us wanted the alcohol on sale at so many different venues, but we drank from Ayler’s water flask and were just as happy.
    There was a bookseller at the very edge of the fair, his booth not quite so crowded as the others, and Gryffin actually asked Ayler to lift him down so he could sort through the merchandise. I handed over the canes, then held the horse’s bridle while Ayler stood behind Gryffin to protect him from careless strangers. Gryffin spent his last coppers on a volume that was in such disrepair that the pages were coming free of the binding and much of the leather was flaking off from the cover.
    â€œFolk tales,” he said happily as Ayler helped him back on the horse. “I’ve wanted something like this forever.”
    It was clear the excursion had tired Gryffin. We stayed perhaps an hour—the sun still had not completely set—before we decided to turn back for town. I walked right beside the horse this time, close enough to catch Gryffin if he started to fall, while Ayler sought the smoothest route home. More than once, Gryffin put his hand out to rest it on my shoulder, and I stiffened my back to take as much of his weight as I could.
    The tavern, of course, was alive with revelry when we finally made our way to the back door. But most of the light and noise poured from the front of the building; the back was dark and comparatively quiet.
    â€œDo you need any help getting up to your room?” Ayler inquired. “If not, I’ll take my horse back to the Parmers’.”
    There was just the slightest hesitation from Gryffin. “No. I can make it myself. But I think I’ll sit outside awhile and listen to the crickets.”
    â€œKellen? Do you want to walk with me?”
    â€œI’ll stay with Gryffin a bit,” I decided. “I’ll see you at my mother’s.”
    Gryffin and I settled ourselves on the bench and leaned against the house. There was a burst of laughter from the front of the tavern and the sound of something shattering. More laughter. Above us, the moon was full and yellow, yawning with the exertion of enduring a full day of merriment.
    â€œWhy don’t you want to go upstairs?” I asked after we had been sitting in silence a few moments.
    â€œThe room’s occupied,” he said.
    â€œWho’s occupying it? And how can you tell from down here?”
    He just looked at me a moment in the faint moonlight. “There were two candles in the window,” he said. “A signal that the room’s in use.”
    â€œIn use for—” I began, and then my mouth hung open. “You can’t mean—people who are drinking in the tavern want—they go up to use your bedroom ?”
    Gryffin nodded. “Usually just on weekends. And holidays. I spend a lot of time down on this bench.”
    â€œEven in winter?” I demanded.
    He shrugged. “In winter I usually wait in the kitchen.”
    I made a little grunting noise. “Kitchen’s not so bad. I’ve slept on the floor in front of our stove a lot of times.”
    â€œEasier to get something to eat if you’re hungry late at night,” he agreed.
    â€œBut do people know?” I said. “I mean, I can’t think the mayor—and Mr. Shelby—and the