The mayor stands perfectly still, looking at the confused boy in front of him. “Son, do you have any idea how long we have been looking for you?”

  “You’ve been looking for me?” Max is even more confused as to why the mayor is looking for him. He can’t remember ever talking to the man or doing anything that might draw his attention.

  “Yes! When Lady Braye arrived before the guards, she told them that the kidnappers had ambushed you and that you were wounded trying to hold them off as she and Lady Grey made for the town. After the guards killed the scoundrel who had tried to take her again, they had gone out searching for you for weeks! All they could find was a bloodied bandage, an arrow, and a broken torch. Lady Braye was quite upset and continually asked us to look for you while she waited for her family’s men to arrive.”

  “So, Lady Rosalee and Lady Elizabeth are okay? They managed to make it here?” Max stays as polite as he can, but jumps excitedly hearing that, before cooling down as he processes what the mayor had just said. “William Sinclair was killed?”

  Now it is the mayor’s turn to be confused. “William Sinclair? How do you know that name, boy? And what does he have to do with any of this?”

  “But didn’t you just say that the guards killed the scoundrel who tried to take the girls? Wait.” Max thinks for a second and remembers the other man, the one who had rushed past him right before he met Sinclair. “You killed the other one.”

  “The other one? Are you telling me William Sinclair was behind Lady Grey and Lady Braye’s kidnapping!?” The mayor did not expect the conversation to end up with them discussing one of the most wanted criminals the Weald had ever dealt with.

  “Okay, so… When I rescued the two ladies, I had to search their lair. I killed three of the men who were drunk and asleep. I had been afraid they would wake up and stop me from saving them, or that they would catch all of us and bring us back to the cage. In one of the rooms, I found a man sitting at a table with the keys on it. I grabbed the keys, and we left. I think he was the same one who ran past me after the girls, after Sinclair had shot me with an arrow.”

  Max closes his eyes tightly, trying to remember the best he can. “Then a man came out of the woods holding a bow, he asked if I had killed his men. He was going to kill me. I warned him if he didn’t, that I would hunt him down and kill him instead. He laughed and told me his name was William Sinclair.”

  The mayor's mouth hangs open. Just who is this child? He had to be around Lady Grey and Lady Braye’s age at the time, yet he had the gall to threaten the William Sinclair? “So, he was behind it. We never knew; the ladies didn’t mention it.”

  “They might not have known; they just referred to the whole group of them as “heathens,” and he only showed up in front of me after they were both running to the guards.” Max shrugs, for all he knows, Sinclair might not have even been with the group when they kidnapped the girls, but they were simply brought to him afterwards.

  “How did you escape?” The mayor is very curious; to threaten and then escape William Sinclair would have been no easy matter.

  “That I cannot tell you. All I know is one moment I was about to be killed, and the next I was someplace completely different. When I asked my mom about it, she said it must have been some type of magic.” Max is very curious about this point as well, but feels that this is neither the time nor the place to get into how he comes from another world. He highly doubts that even if he tries to explain, anyone will believe him anyway.

  “Well, I have seen magic do stranger things than move someone from one place to another. You never found out who cast the spell or why?”

  “No, I have never found out.” Who cast the spell? I never thought of that. I mean, when my mom said that, I figured she just meant it as a general explanation for something unexplainable. But from what the mayor just said, magic is real and needs someone to cast it.

  So, if magic is what is responsible for bringing me back and forth between realms, then someone must be causing it to happen. The question is, why would they? Max instantly gets lost thinking about magic, his train of thought completely out of control until he hears the mayor start talking again.

  “So how did you end up back here? Why are you looking for the ladies?” The mayor seemingly catches Max’s excitement and is trying to figure out what is going on.

  “It's a long story, but it is enough to say that I got stranded back out here. I found work with a smith and started getting supplies that I might need to travel, and then found a hunter to teach me how to survive off the land. I figured with both gear and the know-how, I could head out on my own. Until I figure out how to get back to where I am from, I was going to look into what happened with Lady Rosalee and Lady Elizabeth."

  "I really didn’t have a place to start looking, but after I saw the smith had received a message, I started thinking that I could just send them a message. If I cannot find them, then maybe I would send one to their family. That is why I came to you asking if you know their whereabouts.” Max tries his best to summarize his past few months while leaving where he was from enigmatic.

  “Last I heard, Lady Grey had traveled back to The Terrace and Lady Braye had returned to Ashbury, but don’t you worry, son! I will send them a message straight away that you have been found! Lady Braye will be quite happy indeed to hear this!” The mayor grins ear to ear and slaps Max on the back.

  “Where are you staying these days? Not with that old grump Russell still are ya?”

  “Russell? Sir, who is that?” It seems the mayor has quite the knack for confusing young Max.

  “Russell, you know the smith? The one you have been staying with all this time. Don’t tell me that you never learned his name!? Come on, lad!” Laughing, the mayor shakes his head. He feels that he shouldn’t be too surprised that Max doesn’t know the smith’s name. If Max hadn’t outright asked, he doubts if the old grump would offer up his name at all.

  “Oh, then no, Sir. I recently rented a room at an inn here in town. I’m to wait for the whittawer to finish with some pelts before I head back out into the woods to a cabin. I have a friend out there who is teaching me to hunt.”

  His name is Russell? Huh, I guess I never did ask what it was, and it just never came up. I don’t think I ever told him my name either. The mayor turns out to be a decent source of information, and on more than just the girls. Max will have to thank Stephen later for suggesting talking to the man.

  “Nonsense! You will come and stay with me as my guest. Any friend of The Terrace or Ashbury is a friend of mine, and you are the hero who saved both their daughters. I can't let it be known that I let you stay at a stinking old inn and not with me. Come along, I will show you the way and inform the staff.” Clapping Max on the back, the mayor leads him off toward his estate.

  Later that night, the mayor sends word down to the rookery for them to send a message off to Ashbury. As the mayor’s official guest, Max retires to his estate every evening after working out in the mornings, then doing some chores or tasks for either Russell the smith or any random townsfolk who are willing to pay during the days.

  It takes three days before he receives word back from Ashbury. The mayor hand-delivers it to Max at the smithy unopened himself. He stands by to see what news that it holds, hoping that the Braye family will be quite pleased and he can get a reward out of finding the boy.

  The message is very simple and makes Max feel slightly weird:

  “I have dispatched someone to verify the identity of the person you have found claiming to be Max McIver. If the claims are true, my retainer will provide ample compensation for finding and conveying him to my retainer. — Lady Rosalee Braye”

  He isn’t quite sure if it is just her formal and polite way of speaking, or that she is treating him more like some kind of lost dog or package that makes him feel weird. He is also curious as to how she is planning on verifying him. As there is absolutely nothing personal in the note at all, he hands it to the mayor. As the mayor reads it, he can’t help but brighten, his bet seems to have paid off.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The mayor leaves shortly after that, and Max resumes working. Even if that is the most impersonal thing he has ever read regarding himself, he is pleased that she both remembers him and that he is making headway on one of his goals.

  He thinks for a moment about maybe sending a message to Lady Elizabeth as well, but after thinking about it, he decides not to. They hadn’t been all that close during the escape, and felt that, with how she acted, if it wasn’t so unladylike, she would just read the message, say ‘who?’, and then just throw it away without replying.

  After a little more than a week has passed since Stephen dropped off the pelts, they are finally ready. Max has to assure the mayor multiple times that he won’t vanish once he goes into the woods and that he does not require an escort. He promises that he will just deliver the pelts and then return. Of course, he then has to turn down the request to have a courier just do it for him.

  After spending the small amount of time that he does each day with the mayor, he realizes very clearly that the mayor sees him as cargo that has to be carefully taken care of and delivered so as to receive payment. If it is up to the mayor, Max would spend his days sitting somewhere soft and safe until he needs to either use the bathroom or eat, rather than working for people around the town or at the smithy.

  Max picks up the pelts and walks out of town. He notices that the guards seem to pay more attention to him, and he even thinks that he sees one of them following along the top of the wall until he is out of sight. It seems the mayor will most likely have a search party out and looking for him if he doesn’t immediately return after handing the pelts to Stephen.

  Looks like I won’t be practicing or hunting at all today. The mayor can really be a pain. It would be kind of funny to see just how many guards he’d scramble if I didn’t come back. That would be mean, though, the guards don’t deserve that. Max laughs at his own private joke while making his way to the cabin. He knocks on the door right away this time since he doesn’t want to lug the pelts all over the place.

  Stephen seems to have been inside anyway and opens the door shortly. “Hello, Max. It seems the pelts are finally finished. Come in and put them down.”

  Max follows Stephen inside and sets the pelts down on the small table. “I checked a couple days ago, and they still weren’t ready. Seeing as I’m staying with the mayor now, they sent word to him as soon as they were finished. I brought them over as soon as I could get away.”

  This catches Stephen off guard, and he looks oddly at Max. “You are staying with the mayor? How did you manage that?”

  “Turns out the people I was going to send a message to had already been looking for me. Once he found out who I was, he immediately sent word that he found me and would be keeping me safe until they, or one of their retainers, apparently, could come and get me. It was news to me that I was just a piece of cargo, but hey, it all worked out, and I ended up where I wanted to be anyway.” Max rubs the back of his head while explaining, then shrugs as he finishes.

  “So, what does that mean? You are leaving Briargate?” Stephen studies Max’s reactions, trying to gauge what he is thinking or might be planning.

  “There is a very good chance of that. I’m not entirely sure when they will be showing up. Of course, then they have to verify that I am indeed myself. Really hope I don’t manage to mess that up somehow. Really, how do you even verify who someone is?” Throwing his arms up exasperatedly, Max turns and heads toward the door. “So, I probably won’t be seeing you around anymore.”

  Stephen nods, thinking to himself. As he sees Max start to leave, he stops him. “Wait, here.” He takes half of the pelts and hands them over to Max. “I was planning on sharing them with you anyway, to keep us warm through the winter. You can probably use two of them and get a small cloak while saving the other for a blanket. If you don’t care about using your cloak as a blanket, using all three would probably work better, though.”

  Max takes the three pelts from Stephen. “Thank you, I will always remember and be thankful for the things you have taught me. I didn’t think we would be parting ways so soon.”

  “Well, your time here is basically over anyway. Once you deliver these pelts, I was planning on ending your lessons.” Stephen continues to judge Max while breaking the news.

  “What? Why?” Even though he has to go anyway, Max is a little stung that Stephen doesn’t want to continue to teach him.

  Stephen forces a smile and laughs. “I taught you basically everything already. We never got you your own deer, but you know how to. I showed you all you need about the plants and the land around here. You picked up skinning, gutting, and cooking well enough that you won’t starve, and you can trade meat and pelts for coin. Not sure what else you’d have had me show you.”

  Thinking about it, Max does indeed see the reasoning in this. He has enjoyed his time spent at the cabin and out hunting with Stephen, but he never planned on making it permanent. Stephen, after all, is just teaching him as repayment, not because they are family or something.

  “Well then, thank you for teaching me everything you know. I really couldn’t have learned all this without you. I hope you stay well and enjoy your life out here, Mr. Conwell.” Max bows lightly before turning and leaving the cabin for the last time.

  Outside, he pauses and takes one last look around the place before heading back to Briargate. What are the odds there are guards in the woods looking for me already?

  As he nears the gate, Max does indeed find guards heading towards where he had entered the woods from. Waving at them, he follows them back to town. At the gate, one of the mayor's men stands waiting for him.

  “You can tell the mayor I have returned. I plan to head over to the leatherworker and the clothier. I will probably end up working around town after.” Max had expected this and is hoping the man will not force him to go back to the mayor’s estate first. It seems the mayor must have anticipated his reply because the man nods without arguing and then departs, off to find his boss.

  The idea of turning the pelts into a cloak, as Stephen had suggested, is completely dismissed by the time he reaches the clothier. After Stephen had given the pelts to him, he had already made plans for them. These cloaks everyone wears are way too bulky and just get in the way too much. Weighing one down with these pelts would only make it even worse. Sure, it can double as a blanket, but that's because it basically just is a blanket!

  I hope the clothier can make what I am looking for. The old vest is perfect, and this new one is almost even better than it, so I would be lying if I said I didn’t have high hopes. Entering the clothier’s shop, he greets the owner, whom he has dealt with a couple of times before. He lays the pelts and newly bought dyed leather on the counter.

  “I am hoping that you could make me a custom jacket with these.” Max pats the pelts and leather.

  “A jacket? What kind of jacket are you talking about? Like the kind the nobles wear?” The clothier raises an eyebrow and flips through the materials.

  “Not exactly. More like the vests that you have made me before. It doesn’t need any sheaths. Make it loose-fitting so I can wear it over my shirt while I'm wearing my vest and still comfortably move in it. I would like it to be able to button down to my waist, then open the rest of the way down. Which means I’ll need it long enough to go mid-calf or so, I don’t want it to drag on the ground."

  "If you can split it up the back to around my butt or so, I’d like to be able to run or jump in it if I have to. Long sleeve, of course, but fitted, I don’t want it gaping open when I lift my arms. Lastly, I’d like a collar on it, basically a longer bit starting at about here.“ Max points to his chest and holds a bit of leather up, demonstrating what he means.

  “And going around the neck and back down to the other side to about the same place. The beaver pelt will go on the inside; only on that fold will it be on the outside until I unfold it.” He shows again what he means by holding the leather and pelt together and showing the fold.

  “Oh, and here on the sides of the jacket, if you could leave a gap a bit bigger than my hands and then sew in two flat purses big enough that I can put about up to here into.” He shows how far he wants the purse to be by measuring from his middle fingertip to about an inch past his wrist.

  “And the purses should be made with the beaver pelt facing toward each other, so when you reach into them from the outside of the jacket, the fur is there.”

  The clothier scratches his eyebrow, listening to Max’s description of the jacket. “It doesn’t seem much harder than a noble’s jacket. Just longer, really. The fold you want will be different. I haven’t done it before, but I don't see it being too hard. The purse thing is also doable, and shouldn’t be much trouble. I will cost you, though. This is a lot of hard work you are asking for.”

  “How much are we talking about?” This isn’t outside of Max’s expectations. It has been the same way when he came asking for sheathes to be added to the sides of his vest. The clothier debates over a price for a moment before telling it to Max.

  He isn’t lying; it is expensive. Thanks to the bandits, Max has plenty of coin and not much to spend it on. He pays the clothier and is informed it will be several days to a week for him to finish the jacket. With his coin purse considerably lighter, he leaves the clothier and heads over to the smithy.

  Max knocks on the smith’s door when he doesn’t find him working on the forge. It takes a moment, but he eventually answers the door. “Oh, it’s you. What do you want?”

  “Well, I just came by to let you know that I will most likely be leaving soon.” He doesn’t know why he is saying goodbye to the smith, but after talking with Stephen, Max feels as if he should get his affairs in order. He doesn’t know when this retainer will show up or how impatient that they might be to leave once they verify who he is.

  The smith looks Max up and down before replying. “You’ve been a good kid. You worked hard, didn’t eat a lot, or bother me. It has been nice having you help out around the smithy. Good luck, Lad.” With that, he claps Max on the shoulder and turns, closing the door in Max’s face before he can reply.

  That might be the nicest he has ever been to me, well, without the promise of going to the Drunken Leaf that is. I really will miss him and working around the smithy.

  Max has a sad smile on his face as he turns and heads down one of the streets. While he is sure the mayor would like him back at the estate now that his affairs have been sorted, he goes and seeks out people to do odd jobs for.