The first time Elderaan saw her, he thought little of the encounter.

“You dropped this, sir.”

She was a young girl, ten or eleven years old. Her skin was dirty, but with signs of attempts to wash away the dirt, leaving it smudged across her face. Her hair was tangled and greasy, her clothes soiled and torn in several places. They wouldn’t be the warmest clothes to spend the coming winter in, either. Her pale skin marked her as a Folith, which was somewhat unusual, but not enough to pay it much mind. There were many children living on the streets—runaways or orphans—so it stood to reason there was a Folith child or two as well.

He was in the market, acquiring provisions before fresh food became scarce in winter. He had finished his purchases and hauled up the two heavy baskets, one in each hand, to begin the tiring walk back to the shop when she spoke. She was holding a sack of rice he had bought. A quick glance at the basket to his right confirmed it was no longer there. It had been on the top, so could have fallen.

“Oh, err, yes.” He lowered the baskets to the ground so he could let go and take the sack from her, but she darted forward and dropped it into the basket it had come from. “Ah, thank you,” he said.

She smiled at him. Her teeth were surprisingly white.

“Well then,” Elderaan said. “Best be on my way. You make sure you have somewhere warm to stay, hmm?”

She nodded and her smiled drooped. “Yes, sir.”

She continued to stare at him as he turned away. He paused and a few seconds of awkwardness went by. It was obvious what she was hoping for. She should have just let him put the blasted baskets down in that case.

With a sigh, he lowered the baskets and reached for his purse. He took out two pennies and held them out to her.

Her smile turned into a frown as she held out her hand and allowed him to drop the coins into it. Good gods, how much did she expect?

“That’s all I have, and you should be grateful for it,” he snapped. “I’m not made of money, you know. Now run along.”

He didn’t wait for a response, but just grabbed the baskets’ handles, heaved, and turned away.

He wouldn’t have thought any more of that encounter. Although it wasn’t an everyday occurrence, it wasn’t unusual to encounter street urchins looking for handouts. For all he knew, she had snatched the rice specifically to manufacture the opportunity to return it to him and make a few coins. The cheek of expecting more than he’d given her!

But he would have forgotten it completely—and did for a while—if he hadn’t seen her again a couple weeks later in more unusual circumstances.

There had been two days of constant snowfall, followed by a brief thaw and then a refreezing. The steps to the Hall of Knowledge were treacherous with ice. Not for the first time, Elderaan wished he could give the idiots who built the place a stern talking to. Who in their right mind—given the types of winters in these parts—would make the only entrance at the top of a tall, steep flight of stairs with no railing to hold onto? Even in good weather, it was exhausting. Covered in ice, it was a potential death trap. The crumbling dragon gargoyles over the doors at the top seemed to concur. Their gaze swept down over the stairs, a sort of malevolence carved into them that made them seem as though they were waiting for someone to fall, so they could snatch an easy meal.

He could just turn around and go back to the shop. After all, why should he answer a summons from the Council anyway? They were probably just going to give him some new title. Ever since that young upstart Ezmelda had taken over, all they ever did was hand out meaningless titles. The Council was little more than a joke these days. Still, it wouldn’t do to annoy them. The Hall of Knowledge’s resources were valuable, and control over those resources was about the only real power the Council had. So he braced himself for the treacherous climb.

“Would you like some help, sir?”

He turned at the voice to find the same girl from the market standing a short distance away.

“Hmm?”

“Would you like some help climbing the stairs?”

He wanted to snap at her that, no, he did not need any help. He could manage quite well on his own, thank you very much. But truth be told, he could use the help. A brief glance back at the ice-coated stairs confirmed that. As much as he hated to admit it, he was getting old, and his legs were not as strong as they once were. Someone to help him balance on the ice would be a great help.

With a sigh, he nodded. “Oh, very well.”

She held out a frost-bitten hand, and after a brief hesitation, he took hold of it. It was cold to the touch. He couldn’t help but wonder how much feeling she had in it. “A young girl like you shouldn’t be out in the cold like this,” he lectured as they began to ascend the steps. She shook her head in agreement. “Do you have nowhere to go?”

“No, sir,” she replied.

Elderaan groaned. He hated being confronted with these kinds of situations. If he could help, he would, but he couldn’t, so he just preferred to ignore them—tried to pretend they didn’t exist. He didn’t appreciate the reminder.

“You know, while it’s a clever idea to help people up these stairs, you won’t get much from it,” he told her. “There’s few of us that go up and down them. Hardly anyone uses the Hall of Knowledge these days. Half the city thinks it’s cursed or haunted. They probably expect the ghost of the Dragon himself to accost them should they enter. The other half think it’s a useless reminder of a past they’d rather forget. Lord Belone would like nothing more than to tear it down. You’ll make more money if you concentrate on the market area.”

She nodded, but said nothing.

“Or perhaps a rich aristocrat travelling into or out of Lord Belone's palace. With luck, you might get enough money from just one such person to pay for a place to stay for a few nights, maybe a week.”

Again, she said nothing.

“Well?”

“I’ll consider it, sir,” she said, disappointment in her voice.

Elderaan didn’t understand. Just what was this girl after?

Even with her help, it was not an easy climb up the three-storey height, and took a good quarter hour or more. They climbed the rest of the way mostly in silence apart from occasional grunts from the strain. Elderaan just wasn’t sure what else to say to this girl. The whole way, she looked as though she wanted to say something, and on a couple occasions, she seemed about to do so, but she always stopped before she started.

When they reached the top, Elderaan let go of her hand and leaned against one of the pillars to catch his breath. “Thank you, my dear. I confess it would not have been easy without you.”

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Once he’d had a chance to recover his breath, he stood up straight and reached into his purse to retrieve some coins. He didn’t have much, but he knew he’d feel endlessly guilty if he didn’t give her at least enough to get a room for the night. He counted out six pennies this time and held them out to her. Like before, she only reluctantly accepted them.

“Here,” he said. “This should be enough to get you a warm room for the night and some food. If you’re lucky, you might find a place cheap enough to make the money last for a second night.”

The girl nodded sullenly. “Yes, sir.”

“Well, off with you, then. I have business to attend to.”

She turned away from him slowly, her head lowered. The ungrateful child! Typical Folith, always expecting more. Yes, pure ungratefulness and greed. If he could convince himself of that, he might stop feeling bad for her, stop worrying that she was going to freeze to death.

Best to get in out of the cold before he froze, himself, he decided. Whatever blasted business the Council wanted with him, at least it might distract him from thoughts of the girl. He moved forward, opened the heavy doors, and entered.

Inside, Agernon was hobbling across the large, mostly empty entry hall, his cane clacking on the tiles. On the far side of the room, Ezmelda and a robed librarian—probably Pedrin by the height of him, although the individual’s cowl concealed their face—stood by the meagre fire that was far too small to provide heat to the draughty room.

“Should have stayed home, Elderaan,” Agernon said as he reached the doors, speaking more loudly than needed, obviously intending Ezmelda heard him. “Just a bunch of pointless formalities. The old days are long gone and good riddance to them, I say!”

At the far side of the room, Ezmelda gave no reaction.

“They gave me yet another new title and want to appoint me an apprentice,” Agernon whispered to Elderaan. “Ezmelda’s cousin. I asked her why she doesn’t take the brat on herself. She said her duties take up too much time. I pointed out that most of those duties are just ceremonial nonsense. If she cut those out, she’d have loads of time.” He chuckled. “She didn’t like that, I can tell you.”

“So, are you going to take the apprentice?” Elderaan asked.

Agernon snorted. “I’ll take an apprentice when I’m damn well ready, and not a moment before. I told her as much.”

“And her reply?”

“She reminded me the Council has the power to cut off my access to the library. So I agreed.”

Elderaan laughed.

“I need access to the books here, damn it! I have important research.”

Elderaan nodded and placed a hand on Agernon’s shoulder. “I know, I know. I understand your pain. They do say training an apprentice is very rewarding.”

Agernon harrumphed. “You better hope Ezmelda doesn’t have another cousin needs training.”

Elderaan sighed. He’d been pondering taking on an apprentice for some time now. If that was indeed what Ezmelda and the Council wanted him for, it might not be so bad. At least it would force the decision for him.

“Master Elderaan!” Ezmelda called from across the hall, her voice echoing. “We shouldn’t keep the Council waiting!”

“Yes, coming!” he called back.

“We still on for our game this week?” Agernon asked.

Elderaan nodded. “Of course. I’ll see you then.” He patted Agernon’s shoulder and turned towards Ezmelda.

“Shit,” Agernon grumbled.

Elderaan turned back to see Agernon staring out the still open doors. “Is something wrong?” Outside, the young girl still stood at the top of the stairs. She was rubbing her hands, trying to warm them, and not paying any attention to the two old men inside the doors.

“It’s that blasted girl,” Agernon hissed.

“You know her?”

“She’s been following me around the past few weeks. Always popping up wherever I go, asking if I need hep with this or with that. She was here when I arrived. Wanted to help me up the stairs. Probably been waiting for me to come back out again. What sort of stories do they tell kids about us these days, anyway? That we can conjure gold out of thin air? You didn’t let her help you up the stairs and give her any money, did you?”

“Well, I...”

“Whatever you do, don’t fall for her charms. She’ll bleed you for everything you have.”

“I’ll be sure to be careful, Agernon. And you be careful, too. With your leg on those stairs—”

“I don’t need her help!”

“No, no, of course not.”

“Master Elderaan!” Ezmelda called.

He turned in her direction. “I’m coming! Just give me a moment!” When he turned back, Agernon was already walking out the doors, and the girl was moving over to help him. So she had been targeting wizards. Elderaan was beginning to think it wasn’t money she was after.

“Master Elderaan!”

Elderaan sighed and reached to close the doors as Agernon said, “I already told you, I don’t need your help, girl. Now get lost!”

As the doors clicked into place, Elderaan braced himself for whatever the Council wanted.

* * * * *

They didn’t give him an apprentice, just another title—First Magister of Mentalism, or something like that. Truth be told, he’d mostly forgotten it by the time he left the Hall of Knowledge. He was more focused on the relief of not being assigned an apprentice. Even though the idea of one was becoming more appealing, he realised he would rather have his own choice in the matter. And it was possible he knew of someone intelligent enough for the position—assuming she had the talent as well.

It was a rather ridiculous prospect. He’d only met her briefly on those two occasions and didn’t even know the girl’s name, yet the idea was starting to seem almost exciting. And he was quite certain now that was what her goal was. It was why the money kept disappointing her.

He did wonder why she didn’t just outright say what she wanted, but perhaps she was shy or uncertain what to say. Indeed, how exactly did one just ask a wizard to take on a street urchin as an apprentice? If she had asked him that on their first, or even second encounter, he would have turned her down without a second thought.

The method she’d chosen had created a stronger impression. Assuming it was deliberate, it was quite clever. As well as showing intelligence, she was displaying a willingness to be deferential and to work. All good signs for a prospective apprentice. Now he just had to wait for her to show up again.

Alas, with the weather the way it was, there was little reason for him to head outside any farther than Agernon’s—and that only once a week or so. He couldn’t just wander around aimlessly either. Apart from the bad weather—snow and biting winds—he couldn’t just close up the shop any time he wanted. He had to maintain his meagre funds somehow.

So he had no idea how to find the girl.

He did ask Agernon about her at their weekly card game.

“Haven’t seen her.” Agernon drew a card and frowned at it. “And thank goodness, too. With luck, she froze to death.”

“Oh come now, you don’t mean that.” Elderaan drew a card of his own.

Agernon scowled. “Of course I do.”

“You’re just annoyed at a bad hand.”

Agernon harrumphed. “Why should you care, anyway? What’s she to you?”

“Just a thought I had.”

He told Agernon of his idea and the old man laughed. “Nonsense. She just wants handouts and you have too soft a heart. I warned you away from her. She’ll bleed you dry if you give her half a chance. I fold.” Agernon tossed his cards down.

Elderaan smiled and started to gather up the cards to deal another hand. “Perhaps. We’ll see.”

But the next several days passed with no sign of the girl. Elderaan even made an extra trip into the market two days after his card game with Agernon, just so there might be a chance of bumping into her, but to no avail. If she had been studying his habits, she wouldn’t have expected this day to be a market day and so she wouldn’t be there. Or maybe she had died of the cold. Gods, he hoped that wasn’t the case. He’d never forgive himself for being too slow. Perhaps he was wrong about her. Perhaps she really was just after money like Agernon said. He decided to put her out of his mind and get on with his day-to-day business.