Sammy increased her stapha level, increasing her physical strength and senses significantly. Slipping through the alleys, she glanced up at the evening sky. No moon tonight. Pausing at the edge of the street, she took in the busy night crowd. Nothing stood out for her. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out and merged smoothly into the flow of traffic.

Coming to the post office, she stood in line to wait her turn. She just made it, one of the postal employees coming to close the end of the line. Sammy grinned at the old man and he grumped at her.

Coming to the counter, she set the box down. “Need this priority rated with max insurance.” She ignored the startled look the clerk gave her after he looked at the address. Sammy figured he did not get packages addressed to the Baron’s castle every day.

Outside the post office, Sammy headed down the street allowing the flow of traffic to guide her. An hour later she decided no one was following her. Highly suspicious of this fact, since someone was always following her, Sammy headed down into the sewers.

Coming to one of her stashes, she changed into a pair of spare clothes and threw her disguise into the running sewer water. Going to a completely different part of the city than she usually haunted, she picked up enough food for a week and then headed back to her refuge.

“What are you doing?” Sammy demanded, setting her groceries on a desk. She glanced over at Jenna who lay in one of the beds but then focused her attention on Dista. She put her hands on her hips and glared at Dista, who stood staring at one of the bookcases, and snapped. “I told you not to touch the bookcases.”

He glanced over at the glaring kid. “I have not touched anything. Just looking. These books have a weird feel to them. And why is there a cloth mesh holding each of them in place?”

Sammy snorted. “Just don’t touch them.” She turned away and began rifling through the bags. “I got food for a week. This is going on your tab, by the way. And you have to pay for my quimma foil. That’s hard to get.”

“I’ll just return the foil,” Dista replied with a shrug.

Sammy nodded, though she did not look up. She felt nervous with him that close to her notebooks. She hoped the glyph portions would behave while the idiot noble was there.

Dista turned back to the bookcase he stood in front of. “These almost feel like they contain glyph magic, just, almost. Yet they’re definitely just regular notebooks.”

Sammy swallowed her nervousness, stopped, and put the bread she had pulled from a bag down on the counter. “I haven’t taken a bath yet,” she declared.

Dista turned to look at her, rather bemused, but the girl was not to be found. Surprised, he turned around to look over the whole room. “Where did she go?”

“To take a bath,” Jenna said. She sat up and swung her feet to the ground. “You do realize she’s been holding some level of stapha cycling since we met her, right?”

“Hmm, I thought I detected something of the sort. Rather impressive holding it that long. Longer than you can, if I remember correctly.”

“Watch it.”

“Right, right,” Dista said, grinning for a moment. “This young lady is becoming more and more interesting.”

Jenna let out a sigh and muttered, “Oh, the poor kid. She should have let you die.”

“. . . .” Dista had no reply to the comment.

Sammy soaked in hot water, her mouth submerged. That stupid noble was pretty observant, stupid noble. She wondered if she could just forget the whole thing. She submerged her head fully for a minute and then shook the water from her short black hair like a puppy.

No. I agreed to this job. The whole reason I brought them here. Why’d he have to hurt himself like that. Clumsy oaf. And am sure Dad and Mom would never approve me just quitting, just because the stupid noble is observant and curious. She scrubbed her hair with a nice shampoo she had pillaged from behind a fancy hotel on the other side of the river. “Hey! That stupid noble used my good stuff,” she said, realizing the small amount of shampoo had nearly disappeared. “Grrr! This is so going on the expense account.”

Sammy came from her bath refreshed and revitalized, and she had something to tell these two clients. “I get an expense account, on top of the normal payment,” she declared, pointing dramatically at Dista. “You used almost all my good shampoo. You have to buy me a new bottle.”

“It was mostly empty already,” Dista said.

“Doesn’t matter. You should have asked before using it. I have some other shampoo that’s easier to get hold of you could have used.” Sammy glared at him over crossed arms.

“Jenna used most of it,” Dista complained.

“She’s your guard or something, right? You have to pay for her portion too, stupid noble. Anyway, why are you complaining. It can’t be that great of a hardship on you.”

Jenna had retreated to a bed again and lay with her back to the argument. Still, her body shook ever so slightly. Dista gave her back a scathing look, feeling somewhat betrayed.

“Fine, you get an expense account,” Dista said, sighing. “But I want an explanation of those notebooks. I’m certain they contain glyph magic. That’s plain dangerous and you should not be keeping its like around.”

At first Sammy glowed with victory at getting the expense account. She could think of a bazillion ways to rack up the take from such a windfall. But the elation died away as Dista pried into her notebooks. They were the fruits of years of trial and lots of error and represented years of struggling to survive. All of which showed with truly amazing clarity on her face, so much so that Dista had to pause to keep from blurting out a laugh.

“I don’t have to tell you about my notebooks,” Sammy said, turning away and re-crossing her arms. “You’re not my dad.”

“Well, I’m sure your father wouldn’t approve.”

Sammy muttered under her breath, “What do you know, stupid noble. Daddy would have been proud of me, I think.” In an even quieter voice, “Mom might have been a little upset though.”

Dista hesitated, but then sighed. “Look, I won’t tell anyone about them, but if we’re going to be staying here for a while, don’t you think it would be safer telling us about them than us trying to find out on our own?”

Sammy turned her head, tears streaming down her face. She glared even harder than ever before and snarled, “I told you not to touch them.”

Dista snapped back, “And if I brought you into my room and told you not to touch them, what would you do?”

Sammy’s glare held firm for a moment, but then cracked and she looked down. Then away. Then toward the ceiling. Then she turned away, hunched her shoulders, and squeezed herself with arms across her stomach. Finally she slumped, relaxing.

“I would peek.” She spun around striking a pose and pointing at him. “But! You’re a stupid noble but you’re an adult. You’re supposed to not peek, right?”

Jenna had rolled over and witnessed all of Sammy antics. Stuffing a pillow over her mouth, she fought to control her mirth, but failure loomed.

Dista crossed his arm and looked down his nose at Sammy. “It doesn’t work that way. Adults are curious too.”

Sammy yelled, “You’re acting like a child.”

Dista snarled, “You are a child.”

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Sammy crossed arms and nodded the nod of a sage, “Right, which gives me the right to act like a child, because I am one, but you aren’t one, so don’t act like one, you stupid noble.”

Dista threw his hands into the air, “I can act like one if I want to act like one.”

Both combatants glared at each other, but then angled a glance toward Jenna, who had started thrashing back and forth on the bed, a pillow mashed over her face. After a moment, Sammy cracked a smile and then began to laugh along with Dista.

“Fine, but this is another secret,” Sammy said after the laughter died away. She felt better about these two now that she had laughed with them. “Not as secret as my refuge,” she waved her hand indicating the room, “but still very, very secret, kinda sorta.”

“Agreed,” Dista said, Jenna nodding.

“I could show you one from the shelves, but that’s not necessary.” She pulled up her skirt and opened a pouch strapped over the pants on her left leg and took the notebook from it. She set that down on a desk and pointed at it. “Be good, you.” She then took out another notebook from her right leg, following the same ritual, but this time she moved a heavy metal block onto each of them.

She glanced at her curious clients, “They don’t like to obey all the time, so I use the weights just in case.”

Finally, she took off her backpack and pulled out a third notebook. Sitting at the desk, she opened this notebook, setting a weight to hold the pages open and the trembling notebook in place.

“They try to come together on their own,” she repeated. “It’s quite troublesome. That’s why I have to secure them onto the shelves. It would not be good at all if certain of them got together,” Sammy explained as she opened the other two notebooks.

“See, I copied a third of this glyph into each of these notebooks. This one is not as dangerous as some. I found it on a cart. I think it helps lighten the load so the owner can carry more than it would normally. I haven’t had a chance to experiment with it yet though, so I can’t be sure.” She stuck her lower lip out a little, pouting. “I tried to ask the owner, but he chased me away, the jerk.”

Dista leaned over the notebooks, his arm touching Sammy for a moment, but she jumped away and glared at him. He did not seem to notice.

“This is the glyph called Ria. It is indeed a levitation-based glyph, though it is not usually used in normal transports. More military really, because it must be manually energized. It is more powerful and adaptable than Gia, which is the normal glyph used for civilian transportation.”

Sammy stared at Dista with wide, shining eyes. “You know glyph magic? Really?” She moved so she could see the notebooks again, though she managed to keep several feet between her and Dista.

“I know a little bit,” Dista hedged.

Sammy spun around and ran to one of the bookcases. She undid the mesh secured over one of the shelves, undid five straps that held one of the notebooks in place, and then re-secured the main mesh. She ran over to the desk and set the notebook down.

“You, hold onto this notebook,” she commanded Dista. She retrieved a notebook from a second bookcase and ordered Jenna to guard it, finally retrieving a third notebook. Dista and Jenna exchanged glances, but otherwise waited patiently.

Plopping the last notebook down, Sammy flipped it open and found the page she wanted. Setting a heavy weight on it to keep it open and obediently where it should be, she opened the other two notebooks.

“Here,” she said, pointing at the open notebooks. “What is that glyph?”

Dista looked over the three glyph-thirds, pursing his lips. He reached out to touch one of them and then pulled away. Even drawn in thirds, he could feel the power inherent in the markings. He glanced up at Sammy who stare at him with excited, dancing eyes.

“I believe this is Jygh.” He frowned. “It might be Yghsh. Jygh is classified under the mind. Yghsh is one of the pure fire glyphs. It is often used as a power source, but you don’t normally use it by itself. Where did you find this? Both are considered rather dangerous.”

Sammy nodded emphatically, “It must be Yghsh. When I first drew it, it burst into flames and destroyed the room.” Her eyes got big and sparkled as she continued to nod.

“You drew this glyph complete, by itself?” Dista said, his face becoming unreadable.

Sammy did not notice, excitement at having someone who knew the name of her glyphs enveloping her mind. “Yep, but it was scary, S-C-A-R-Y. I didn’t even think about drawing another glyph for weeks. If I hadn’t been wearing fireman’s armor, I would have been ash for sure.” She shook her head and trembled. “It was really scary.”

Jenna turned away as a grin snuck across her face. She knew how dangerous glyph magic could be, but the girl’s facial expressions and way of saying things were cracking her up. Still, she did not want Dista to reprimand her later. He took glyph safety almost too seriously.

Dista frowned at Sammy. “I take it you did manage to overcome your fright.”

Sammy grinned and nodded, shrugging. “You wouldn’t be looking at these notebooks if I hadn’t. I tried writing the glyphs on completely different pages in a notebook, but they seem to connect somehow anyway. So I started drawing them in different notebooks entirely. It really surprised me when the books tried to come together.” Her eyes grew extremely wide. “I thought it was ghosts playing tricks on me, but that’s silly, of course. Why would ghosts bother with me, right. Right?” She leaned forward, clearly looking for an affirmative answer.

“Indeed,” Dista managed.

“Right.” Sammy nodded her head firmly, glancing behind her. “Anyway, I’m pretty sure the glyphs themselves are just trying to reunite or something. It definitely couldn’t be ghosts, like the ghosts on the foghorn bridge. They really tried to get me once, I think.” Sammy glanced behind her again and swallowed.

She suddenly left the table and went around the room doing something to the light glyphs, making them brighter. Coming back to the desk and the two bemused adults, she explained, “It was getting dark in here, I think. Don’t you think so?” She leaned forward.

“Yes, it was definitely getting darker,” Jenna managed to say, turning around to adjust her clothes.

“Right.” Sammy turned the page to another glyph, opening the other two notebooks to their corresponding pages. “So, Mr. Dista, what is this glyph?”

Sometime later when Sammy left to do some scouting, Dista and Jenna sat at one of the desks for a place to sit and talk.

“Jenna, what do you think of our young Sammy?”

“Lord Dista, you said it yourself - the more we find out, the more intriguing she becomes,” Jenna said with a guarded expression.

Dista leaned back in his chair, rocking on the back legs. He did not say anything for a long time, but then dropped the chair to all fours and leaned his elbows onto the desk. “Everything I’ve been taught about glyphs would say that it’s impossible to write one on something like notebook paper, even of the highest grade, which those cheap things don’t even come close to.”

“They aren’t complete glyphs . . .” Jenna began, but Dista cut her off sharply.

“Jenna.” He sighed and forced himself to relax. “You’re a journeyman, so stop acting the stupid dorma. Those are glyph thirds. Thirds, for crying out loud. She should not have been able to write glyph nineteenths on anything less than vishap cured canvas. Those things have enough energy to move the whole notebook.” He waved his hand toward the precautions Sammy had set up to secure the bookcases.

Jenna looked down and nodded. “And?”

Dista rocked back on his chair again and regarded the ceiling. “I just don’t know. What are the probabilities someone like her would live in a sewer system, let alone just happen to appear at the right moment to save my life.” He dropped back to all fours. “Still, I can’t quite force myself to believe she is anything but what she presents herself. If she is in league against me, she is perhaps the best agent-assassin ever. Damn,” he said, running a hand through his hair and staring hard at Jenna. “I even went to all the trouble to set up that interrogation matrix, but she has yet to say anything even remotely devious.” He glanced at Jenna again.

Jenna sighed. “No, oh silent questioner, I have not sensed anything wrong with her. She’s skittish and does not trust either of us at all, doesn’t tell everything she knows, but otherwise she appears to be a young girl living on her own in the sewer system, with the requisite level of paranoia to still be alive and free.”

“For someone who doesn’t trust us at all, she’s very trusting. She just leaves us here all by ourselves with her precious notebooks and other paraphernalia. She is clearly intelligent, yet she lives in the sewers instead of moving somewhere more pleasant. She can write glyphs, but spends her time pillaging.” He paused, and rocked back in his chair again, amused by the word Sammy used to describe her activities of the day. “Pillaging trash cans to sell junk to make money. At times she talks like a well-educated adult, others like a street urchin.” He threw his hands into the air in exasperation and then let out a completely un-macho squawk as he fell over backwards. Laying on his back rubbing the back of his head with a hand, he finished, “Damn, she’s such a blasted contrast of contrasts that I can’t make heads or tails of her. I like her.”

Jenna snorted and crossed her arms. “What in the great forest does ‘contrast of contrasts’ mean?”

“Figure it out for yourself,” Dista said, somewhat testy. He rolled away from the chair and sat again after righting it. “I can’t think of a better way of putting the kid.”

“And you like her. Well, what are your plans?”

Dista snorted and rocked back onto two legs again. Jenna just shook her head at him. If he wanted to break his own head, she was not going to protect him from himself. A grin spread across his face. Jenna sighed and muttered under her breath that Sammy should run for it.

Dista barked a laugh and then leaned back again. “Well, she wants a home and finances to live well the rest of her life. There’s a nice piece of land currently in need of some supervision. It will take a few years to fully pull it off, but I think young Sammy will fit the bill nicely.”

Jenna looked at Dista, somewhat puzzled. She could not think of what land he could be referring to. After a moment, Dista’s smile grew larger and he laughed at her.

“In any case,” the lord finally said, “I want her to start attending school. Anyone capable of writing glyphs on regular paper cannot be left to live out her life in the sewers.”

Jenna gave him a pointed look. “Just remember, she did save us back there. You owe her your life.”

“My dear Jenna, I know that, and I am very grateful. Still, I think she can serve the kingdom very well. If nothing else, it will get certain people off their butts and doing what they should have done decades ago.”

“You’re scaring me, lord Dista,” Jenna said in a serious tone, no laughter in her eyes.

“Hmmm, well, I do what needs to be done, and I have held my hand for quite some time. One must take hold of opportunities when they present themselves, or they will slip away unappreciated.”

Jenna refrained from responding.