If it hadn't been for Lucy, I never would have found the man.

She honked softly ahead of me and I followed the sound, using my walking stick to help detect anything that might tangle my feet.

I would really enjoy going a day without tasting the ground.

Then again, if this meeting resulted in what I hardly dared to hope for, then I would gladly fall all day long. Falling would be a small price to pay.

Lucy honked a warning and I came to a dead stop. Clattering hooves and creaking wheels rushed past, sending chunks of mud flying.

I sighed softly. 

None of the wagon drivers seemed to care in the slightest about people walking on foot. Least of all about the people who couldn't see them coming.

"Thank you, Lucy," I murmured. The goose rubbed her head against my leg, then, giving another honk, she began to waddle away.

During the walk to town I had let my mind wander. Something that was highly dangerous for someone like me. I hadn't been paying close attention, but now I listened intently to the sounds around me.

People shouted, talked, and whispered as they walked. Boots and walking sticks scraped, kids hollered, dogs barked, horses whinnied, hooves clip-clopped on the cobbles, and carts creaked and groaned under unknown loads.

Scents of the market filled my nose. Freshly baked goods, sweat, manure, flowers, dust, dirty bodies, perfumes, cooking meats, and sunshine. 

I followed the faint flap of Lucy's webbed feet.

Excitement built inside of me as we drew closer to where the meeting was going to take place. My heart beat faster, taking off like a deer racing away.

"Where are you off to today, Linden?"

The sudden voice beside me made me jump. 

I silently scolded myself. I should have heard Mr. Sprangler walk up. I knew his footsteps well and should have been able to pick him out of the crowd easily.

"Oh, nowhere exciting, I'm just running some errands."

"Your sister normally comes with you, doesn't she?" he asked, and I could hear the confusion in his voice. 

I shrugged. "She was busy today. Besides, I have Lucy with me."

Lucy made a grumbling sound in her throat at the mention of her name.

Mr. Sprangler was quiet for a moment. "Alright. Just be careful, Linden, there have been some strange people around town lately. If you need anything, just holler for me."

"Thank you. I'll be careful."

But I didn't plan on calling for help. 

Mr. Spangler was busy with his shop and I was just fine doing things myself. I didn't want people thinking I was useless. Because, that was truth. I was. And I hated it.

Yes, there were things I could do, but there wasn't a day that went by that my lack of sight made things hard for my family.

And that was why I had given them the slip. That was why I had followed the rumor. Because I didn't want to be a burden to my family anymore. I didn't want to be the reason someone always had to help me.

I waved farewell and turned away, once again following the sound of Lucy's footfalls.

I counted my steps, using memory and Lucy's warnings to find my destination.

The Crow’s Eye Inn was very full. Travelers, merchants, and people just stopping in for a bite to eat were crowded in, laughing, talking, drinking, and making merry.

I bent down and scooped Lucy into my arms. I would never forgive myself if she were stepped on. I worked my fingers through her smooth feathers, the action calming me. Sliding along the wall, I made my way towards the back of the room, away from most of the people.

Lucy honked, bobbing her head. I paused and moved to the side.

They moved a table in here.

I had been in the Crow’s Eye Inn many times and knew the layout fairly well. But it didn't really matter, it was just a minor obstacle. I worked my way around and continued shuffling towards the farthest corner. My hip brushed against a chair and I set Lucy back on the ground. Shifting the chair and finding it empty, I eased into it.

I would just wait until the person showed up. If they showed up. 

I had tried convincing myself not to get my hopes up. Even if the person showed, there was almost no chance they could help me. No one had been able to help me. My family had tried for years, but nothing had worked.

I took a slow breath, taking in the scents.

It smelled much like the market outside, yet different. The scent of cooking was stronger in here. Rosemary, garlic, onions, roasted beef, and lamb filled the room, mixing with the smell of dirt, sweat, and ale.

My focus shifted to the sound of faint footsteps drawing near. Soft leather brushing against the flagstones, the swish of a cloak, the slight jingle of a pouch full of gold. 

This person must be wealthy, I mused. I wonder if this is the person I'm waiting for, and if so, what would a commoner like me have to offer someone like him?

“Linden, I presume?” The voice was smooth and velvety. 

A chill raced up my back and a deep sense of dread instantly crept into my body. This man is dangerous.

“Yes,” I said, fear almost choking me.

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The man chuckled softly, the sound just as velvety as his voice, yet somehow giving me that shivery feeling; like someone grinding steel between millstones.

My common sense was screaming at me to leave. To forget even talking of making a deal. To run and never look back. But I wanted this. I wanted it so badly. Bad enough that I stayed firmly in my chair.

“I assume you want something from me?” he asked. There was a soft clink of coins, then the spinning sound of a coin on the table top.

“Yes. And I assume you want something in return?” I asked. It was stupid of me to say it, but I realized this only after I opened my mouth. Like always.

I cringed, waiting for some sort of blow, but the man only chuckled again. The coin slowed and he spun it again, his movement sending a faint sound of creaking leather to my ears.

Gloves. It fit with my mental picture of him. 

“You assumed correctly. I do want something in return. As you might have guessed, I don't do anything for free, Mr. Barlowe. As it is, you are very lucky I decided to meet you today. I don't just meet with anyone. Fortunately for you, I was in a good mood.”

I swallowed, wondering how fast that mood might change.

“Let's see…” he trailed off as if thinking. “Commoner, probably a hard worker, someone who loves his family. I'm guessing you are here for money?”

“No. I want to be able to see,” I whispered, guilt filling me. 

Should I have chosen money? 

“Sight you say? Hmm…” he trailed off again.

Money would probably help my family more than my sight ever could. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized my mistake. 

I was just about to open my mouth to ask for money instead, but the man had started talking.

“Well, for something like that, it would be quite a price to pay.”

Disappointment and regret filled me, sinking into my stomach like a big, cold stone.

I should have known. I should have listened and just walked away.

“But,” the man said, sending his coin spinning again, a smile in his voice. “Since I am feeling awfully generous today, I'll make the price something you can easily pay.”

I waited, hardly daring to breathe. Hardly daring to hope.

“One year of sight, for one of your memories. Just one little memory; you won't even realize it's gone.”

My heart began to pound. Only a memory? I had heard of Memory Collectors, but they were rare and far between. I knew memories were highly valued among the people who could collect them and getting a willing donor was always the hard part.

“And… how are you going to… take my memory?” 

Would it be painful? Did he take some of my blood? Or was it something as simple as some of my hair? 

“Oh don't you worry about that. You won't have to do anything. You won't even feel me extract it. However,” his voice suddenly turned serious. “Giving you sight will be much harder. The process will be over fairly swiftly, but it will be painful. Are you sure you want this?”

My mouth felt dry, making it hard to swallow.

“Yes. I do.”

And I did. Would the pain matter? What was a little bit of pain next to a year of sight? 

“Alright then. If you are sure…”

I nodded. “One of my memories for a year of sight.”

“We have a deal,” the man said, the smile in his silky voice more prominent. 

I held out my hand and he took it, returning my firm handshake with a loose, gloved one. 

“Alright, Linden, focus on the sound of this coin.”

He spun the coin again and this time it had a dull, throbbing hum to it. I listened, focusing on each rotation, on each wave of sound. On each throbbing beat.

“Let everything else fade away,” the man said, his voice soft.

I focused harder, releasing my hold on the sounds of the Inn's occupants. I listened to his voice and the sound of the coin, letting everything else go. Lucy honked, but I couldn't move, couldn't answer.

“That's it, just relax,” the man said. The sound of the coin seemed to be getting louder, filling my senses. I tried letting go, tried focusing on the sounds of the Inn once again, but I couldn't find it. The throbbing was filling my world. Lucy honked again, but I barely heard it. A wave of cold washed over me, settling into my limbs, making me feel heavy and tired.

“Now stand up,” the voice directed.

I tried to make myself stay seated, but against my will, my body obeyed. Horror filled me, stealing the breath from my lungs, making my body shake, or maybe I just thought I was shaking.

“Now leave out the back way, into the alley.” The voice no longer seemed to be coming from far away, but rather echoing inside my mind. My legs started moving, carrying me towards the back door of the Inn.

I was screaming now, but no sound came out. I was no longer in control of my own body. Before I could do anything else, I was standing in the alley behind the inn. It was even colder, and I shook harder.

“Now this is the hardest part, so I need you to be very still and calm.”

I wanted to shout that there was no way I was going to calm down, but once again, my body reacted against my will. A moment later, the throbbing sound faded, and the sounds of the market at the end of the alley came back. Lucy was honking again, or maybe she had never stopped.

“Thank you, Mr. Barlowe,” the man said, and I was relieved to find that his voice was where it belonged. “You don't know how much this memory means to me.”

Anger filled me. I wanted to shout and yell, accuse him for controlling me, but instead, I asked, “What memory did you take?”

He chuckled one last time, the sound sending chills down my back. “I couldn't tell you that. Now, for my end of the deal. Just remember, Linden, you asked for this. It should be over soon. At least I think so, I have personally never given someone sight before.” The smile in his voice wasn't a nice one.

I began to shake, my shoulders jerking, spasms coursing up and down my body as fear filled me.

The man turned and walked away, but I couldn't move. I was frozen, still shaking.

Lucy beat her wings in the air and started pecking my legs. Shuddering, I bent down and brushed my hand over her smooth plumage. 

That's when the pain hit. Without any warning at all.

It crippled me, stole the breath from my lungs, the sound from my ears, the feeling from my fingertips. It was just the pain; crushing, surrounding, all consuming. As inescapable as the depths of a bottomless lake. My head felt as if it were melting, as if my brains had been liquefied and were now pouring out of my ears. 

But it was nothing, nothing, compared to the pain in my eyes. 

They felt like they were being ripped out, boiled, diced, chopped and juiced all at the same time.

My knees cracked against the cobblestone of the alley, but I hardly took any notice. The pain that normally would have brought tears to my eyes was like the welcome breeze on a hot summer day.

I wished I was dead. That I had never made the deal. That I hadn't been so  selfish. Sight couldn't possibly be worth this. I wished I had listened to my instincts to run when I'd had the chance. I'd had a perfectly happy life with a wonderful family, so why did I have to wish for more? Why hadn't I just been content?

I gripped my head and curled into a ball, trying in vain to escape the pure agony that was consuming me.

I wished I had never met that man. 

I wished I had never heard the rumor.

I wished I were at home.

I wished I were dead. Anything. I just needed to escape this pain. 

It was just too much. Too much to pass out, too much to move, too much to do anything but wait and hope for release. To do anything but hope for the utter oblivion of unconsciousness. 

Never in my seventeen years of life had I experienced this level of torture.

“Linden?!”

A rough hand shoved against my shoulder, but I curled in tighter, the person's touch sending a new wave of pain through my head.

It just hurt too much.

Too much to speak.

Too much to scream.

“Linden? What's wrong?!” The person pulled my hands away and my strength left me. I no longer had it in me to fight.

“Please answer me, what happened?!”

My pain clouded brain registered Mr. Spangler's voice, but I couldn't answer. I just wished he would leave me alone. Alone to die. Then I was falling. Falling away into that utter oblivion of unconsciousness.