The Lost Girl, part sixteen

The town beyond the gate was all dark wood, elaborate log cabins sealed with something that looked like tar. The roofs were gray stone -- slate? -- arranged in layers of tiles. Chris stopped once they were inside, looking over at the giant.

It was four times his height and three times his width, and looked like it could flatten even Morri with a single blow of a fist. It wore a twisted sheet of heavy cloth like a toga, and stood next to a sort of open-faced barn where it probably slept. Rows of boulders were set out on the open ground beside the barn. 

He looked away, and turned his attention to the rest of the town. The structures that seemed like simple dwellings had small gardens out front, tucked away behind light fences, while the larger structures had small planters in front of their windows, rich with flowers. The main road through the town pointed the way, and Peter turned to face the giant before they advanced any further. "We appreciate your indulgence," he said, and bowed. 

The giant inclined its head. 

Chris kept his place and his human form, stalking along beside Antoinette as they moved through the town. 

The market was the heart of the town. It was divided into four sections, placed around a central building. Each of the sections was roughly square, but with a little corner cut out of it where the building filled the space. The stalls here were mostly oiled poles supporting heavy canvas, with tables set inside; a few were more permanent, constructed of the heavy logs with solid roofing above. 

"Scent," said Elyssa, and turned to look to her left. "Tammy Lynn went this way, and recently."

Peter motioned for her to lead, and Chris moved up beside her, sniffing to confirm what she'd found. "Yes."

"All right," said Peter. "Antoinette, stay beside me. Morri, Agatha, you two watch our backs. Don't confront her; let Antoinette and me talk to her first."

Chris nodded, and let Elyssa lead the way. He was busy watching the crowd around them -- mostly human in appearance, though a few had more exotic features -- and spotted two more people with the same milk-white skin and pale gray hair that distinguished Agatha. One of them -- an older woman -- casually met his eyes; the other was busily haggling over wheels of cheese and didn't appear to notice them at all. 

There. He knew it before he saw her; he could tell from the way Elyssa shifted her stance, the way she turned her head. 

Tammy Lynn Carthaugh was standing with a young man beside a stall full of veils and scarves; his skin was milk-white and his hair was a gray so dark that it was almost black. He stood half a head taller than she did, and Chris forced down an immediate, instinctive urge to take him down. Instead, he made himself turn to Elyssa and nod. 

They stepped to the sides, letting Peter and Antoinette pass between them. "There," said Elyssa, pointing.

Peter nodded. "Well done. That's her."

Agatha spoke up from behind them. "Will you let me approach her first? She knows me."

Chris nodded, because that made sense. 

"What are you up to, wolf?" asked a woman's voice, and Chris turned to find himself face-to-face with the pale-skinned woman who'd met his eyes earlier. Somehow she'd come up beside him without him noticing; a cloud had passed over the sun, and he thought that might have had something to do with it. "How are you even inside these walls?"

Chris shrugged. "I understand basic courtesy," he said. "I'm called Chris. How would you like to be called?"

She studied him for a moment.

"Grandmother..." Agatha entreated.

"Be silent, lost one," the older woman hissed, and Agatha shied back. 

Chris felt a core of anger gather within him. He took a half-step back and to his right, putting himself between Agatha and the woman she'd referred to as Grandmother.

"Chris," said Antoinette. 

He ignored her, locking eyes with the shadow-walker. "That was uncalled-for."

She glanced at the sky, but Chris didn't look away. When she met his eyes again, she shrugged and settled back. "Perhaps it was."

Peter stepped into view in his peripheral vision, but made no further movement. 

Chris said, "Let's try this again. I'm called Chris. How would you like to be called?"

The older woman swallowed. "Egallon. I'm called Egallon. I am the safe-keeper of the Northtwist caravan."

"I'm a wolf in service to the Magi," Chris told her. "Specifically, the Ministry of Magic." 

He glanced at Peter, who said: "We're here to tell Tammy that it's time to come home."

Egallon settled herself. "And if she doesn't want to go back?"

Peter said, "We aren't charged to kidnap her, but there are some things that we'll definitely to discuss before we part ways. Agatha... why don't you go ahead and talk to her?"

Agatha said, "She's gone. Arguil shadow-stepped with her."

Chris still hadn't taken his eyes off Egallon. "You keep your people safe," he said slowly, and she nodded. "You can call them back here?"

Egallon hesitated. "Do you really think you can take us here? With the giant to keep the peace?"

Chris shrugged. "I'm not worried about the giant. Do you really want to risk your people? Any of them? When we could sort this out with ten minutes of conversation?"

"You're not--" Egallon hesitated, studying him. Peter was looking at him too; so was Antoinette, no doubt. "Very well. Will you trust me and remain here? It will take a dozen or two breaths to gather my people and your missing magus."

"Wait," said Agatha. "Let me come with you."

"You are not--"

"I have the skills needed. And if you hold to your honor, I will be safe with you."

Egallon considered. "If you wish," she said finally. "Your return with me will be my guarantee that I deal honorably. And if you are no longer one of us, you do at least honor us."

"Thank you, Grandmother," said Agatha and stepped past Chris to stand beside Egallon. They stepped back into the shadow of a trading booth and vanished.