Daisy stepped down off the shuttle and looked around.

  “Daisy!” Calla, her sister called. Calla was standing boldly with a group of village people. Daisy waved at her sister and shifted her hold on her bag. She wanted to run to her sister, but they were given strict instructions just before the shuttle stopped.

  “When we get there, everyone line up by the shuttle. We’re going have a little ceremony to return you home,” Instructor Lizzy told the group in Daisy’s shuttle.

  Daisy took her place in the line, swinging her bag over her shoulder so it wouldn’t sit in the mud.

  “We return to you your learners,” Dean Pittock called out to the waiting group of villagers and Calla. “They have successfully completed their year of education at the Speedwell Academy. A person’s education is never finished and we look forward to welcoming them for another term this fall. All new positions will be assigned by lottery, but every returning student is guaranteed a place if they pay the tuition.

  “Congratulations students on your accomplishments. Take what you have learned and use it to better your lives and the lives of everyone in your village and lands. We are…”

  “The Wizard's Tower!” all the instructor’s called out together.

  Calla was already crossing the distance. She approached Dean Benjamin directly.

  “I’m here for my sister, Daisy,” Calla declared. Ben pulled a glass slate from his pocket. It looked like the one the Engineer carried when the school picked up all the students.

  “You are?” Ben asked.

  “I’m her sister,” Calla responded.

  “What name did you give when you signed her up?” Ben pressed.

  “Calla,” Daisy’s sister responded. “Calla Wildkin.”

  “Daisy was an excellent student. We would be honored if she attended the academy again in the fall,” Dean Ben said, waving Daisy forward. “Daisy has a printed copy of her accomplishments for you. The report is also available on the warehouse station. As a returning student, you can pre-register her at the warehouse station for the next term. Tuition will still be twelve hundred Speedwell coins this fall, but that may increase in the future. We are still working out all the budgeting,” Benjamin explained. Ben took a half step to the side and Daisy hugged her sister.

  “Did ya have a good time?” Calla asked.

  “It were so much fun!” Daisy announced. “I learnt blacksmithin and leatherwork. Engineer gave me a set of leather tools as a graduation gift. She said I remind her of her sister,” Daisy told her own sister, “and she’d of gotten her sister a gift.”

  “I was worried she didn’t get you good things when your account still had coins in it.” Calla’s eyes swept her sister. She noted the new clothes her sister wore, including a fine set of boots.

  “She told me there’s expensive and there’s quality and never confuse the two. She got me quality,” Daisy showed off her boots.

  “I should of known to trust the Engineer,” Calla declared.

  “Daisy?” Instructor Mia called to Daisy and her sister as they began to walk away.

  “Yes, instructor?” Daisy replied, pulling her sister over to meet the blacksmith. Mia was also returning home to the village. She was with her spouse, Instructor Chase and a young boy. The boy was an orphan from Chicago. Daisy felt solidarity with him. She was an orphan too, but at least Daisy had her sister to care for her. Stephen had no one.

  “Is this your sister Calla?” Mia asked.

  “Yes,” Daisy said. “Calla, this’n Instructor Mia. She teaches metalworking at the academy.”

  “Blacksmith,” Calla acknowledged. Calla recognized the woman as the blacksmith in Bayou. She didn’t think the woman would have told her the time of day if she asked last summer.

  “Engineer Whitman told me you supplied almost all the reeds the woodcrafting classes used this winter. My spouse here is a woodworker and he has a proposition for you,” Mia said to Calla.

  “Hi, Calla,” Chase said in greeting. “I’m Chase. Stephen is going to stay with us this summer so I’ll not have time to gather as I usually do.”

  “You don’t harvest reeds in the summer,” Calla countered.

  “No, but I usually get my withies in the early spring, about now actually. Do you know how to recognize basket willows?” Chase asked.

  “Yeah,” Calla admitted. “They grow thick to the southeast on Old Man’s hump.” That was a location Chase never heard of. If it was southeast it must be deep into the swamp. He always gathered them along the western shore, where they grew sparsely.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “The warehouse will buy them from you if they are sorted and graded. I was hoping we could cut out a step. Would you be willing to sell them directly to me? Sorting and grading is something Stephen here could do right off to keep him occupied,” Chase proposed. Chase and Calla fell into negotiations.

  “I have an extra station in the blacksmith’s shop,” Mia told Daisy. “If you work for me in the mornings, I’ll let you use the station and practice your skills in the afternoon. I’m making the same offer to all the students in the village so there will be a sign up sheet. I’ll rotate through anyone who is interested, so everyone gets an equal chance.” This was Mia’s way of telling Daisy she wasn’t going to treat her differently just because she was Wildkin, but she also wasn’t Mia’s sole apprentice. Daisy almost bounced on her feet.

  “Can I sign up today?” Daisy asked.

  “Come by the day after tomorrow,” Mia said. “I need a couple days to settle in.”

  “Thank you, Instructor,” Daisy responded. Calla finished her deal with Instructor Chase. She started back

  “Buck won’t be happy,” Calla said as they walked through town, “but when is he ever,” Calla declared. “It’s a good deal.”

  “What deal?” Daisy asked.

  “The trap maker will pay us eight tenths the warehouse rate for unsorted withies plus two complete traps. Plus he’s promised to pay us the coins on the warehouse system, so Buck won’t be able to drink it. The traps will keep us fed this summer. I got enough for the reeds to pay for your school next term, but I got to start thinking of my own git. They all being so close in age, I need to save up for em.”

  “I’ll help, Sis,” Daisy promised. “Mia says I can trade morn’n labor for use of her tools in the afternoon. Metal work will sell for good prices. Engineer Whitman told us all to check the warehouse for pieces the school is buying.” Calla stopped walking and turned to look back the way they just came.

  “Lets’n check the warehouse now,” Calla said. “Sell’n to the trap maker I won’t have to make the long trip as often. That’ll mean more time for collectin, but it also means we won’t get’n updates on the warehouse prices.”

  They reversed their course and crossed back across the village and down the road to the next main intersection. There on the corner of the field square was the warehouse station.

  The little building was deceiving. The angled down chutes would accept and dispense items up to forty foot long and five feet in diameter. No one bought anything near that size, but lumberjacks in Woodheart commonly sold the warehouse raw logs that big. Smaller outlets handled more delicate items.

  A large screen set under a protective cover at one end provided details of what the warehouse was currently buying and selling. There was a smaller screen built into the village message board, but by default it only showed the most common items. Neither sister realized the smaller screen could show everything this screen did. The Wildkin always came directly to the warehouse where they didn’t have to face the disapproving looks of the villagers.

  “Did ya know that a lot of this stuff comes from other villages?” Daisy told her sister. “The warehouse buys stuff from all the villages up the valley and ships it around. That’s why it costs more to buy from here. It's charging for the transport.”

  “You learn that from the school?” Calla asked.

  “Yeah,” Daisy responded. “It’s supposed to allow specialty items to be available to more people than can be found in a single village, but it also masks who the seller is. Which allows the disenfranchised to take part in the economy.”

  “The disen-what do what now?” Calla questioned.

  “Its’a fancy way of saying us Wildkin can sell to town folk and they don’t know it,” Daisy responded. “That's what Engineer Whitman said.” Calla ran her fingers across the screen, flicking through the items the warehouse was currently buying.

  “Here’s the price on withies,” Calla said when she found it. “Its’a the same as the trap maker quoted me. At least I know he wasn’t lyin.” She kept scrolling. “Ah, here are the metal items.”

  Daisy studied the list beside her sister, she learned to read in the school and she wanted to impress her sister.

  “There,” Daisy said. “I can make them arrowheads out of brass.”

  “Can you make harpoon heads?” Calla asked. “They aren’t much different. Wildkin are always short harpoon heads.”

  “I can try,” Daisy promised.

  “Well then, lets’n buy you a couple brass weights while we're here from the last of Daddy’s money. If’n Buck asks where you got em, I’ll just say you came home from the school with em. It will be true enough.” They bought the brass and packed it away into Daisy’s bag.

  The skiff was waiting for them where Calla had left it tied to the fishing dock.

  “Your hair’s so neat, girl, I hardly recognize ya.” Buck said as Daisy climbed up a piling to the porch, carrying her heavy bag. “It’s good you're working on your looks, the trapper’s son won’t take no ugly girl for nothing.”

  “Don’t listen…” Calla started to say.

  “My hair is beautiful,” Daisy said back to the big man. “Even the Engineer is jealous of it. I don’t need no trapper’s son. I’m a woman of skill. I can make my own way in the world.”

  “You say that now,” Buck countered. “But when the babies start comin you’ll need a man to do the fishin.”

  “Babies don’t just come,” Daisy countered. “I know what causes em, even if you don’t. I’ll go to medical so they won’t come all unexpected.” Buck turned a bright red.

  “What have they been teachin you?!” Buck exclaimed.

  “It ain’t the academy taught me bout babies,” Daisy countered, “but your own carrying on.”

  “I’m going fishin!” Buck declared. He swung down off the porch and climbed down the pilings to the skiff waiting below. He bent his back to the oars. Calla noted he forgot to take his fishing pole with him. After a morning spent watching his kids, he was off to drink beer with his buddies.

  “You shook his world view, Daisy,” Calla said to her sister. “I’m proud of ya.” Buck was a good partner, even if he was a little fond of his drink. He went out with Calla during the cold months. The crawdad traps had done well in the stream just north of the reed beds. He set the traps and collected them, taking the youngest with him in the skiff, while Calla cut the reeds. Once a week they hauled the bundles back to the warehouse. He was fond of crawdads cooked with carrots, onions and potatoes. Calla bought most of the produce at the warehouse and Buck never questioned where the rest of the coins went. It was one of the best fed winters they spent since they paired.

  Calla checked on her children, finding them all in good health. The youngest was down for his nap, it being mid-afternoon. While the two older ones were playing with a set of stones and sticks on the kitchen floor. Daisy was settling her stuff down into the little alcove that was hers. Calla started preparations for dinner.

  “What did ya mean, you’ll go to medical?” Calla asked her sister.