Paz weaved his way nimbly through the crowds of the market, dodging feet and swinging around stalls until he found the one he was looking for. The smith looked up as he bounded onto the counter and moved his brown leather bag from his side, into his lap.

I’ve come for the stuff he signed quickly with his little hands. And then, just in case the smith was as slow as he thought he was, he pointed from one of the nearby jars of nails to his now-open satchel. As a final added incentive, he produced a coin from the bag’s inside pocket and held it up between his first two fingers.

The smith chortled. “Alright, alright, my funny fellow,” he said, collecting two jars of the correct sized nails and putting them into Paz’s bag, “all present and correct.”

Unprepared to take his word for it, Paz peered into the bag, inspected the contents and then nodded, satisfied. He pressed the coin into the smith’s hand, and curled his fingers around the money in thanks. Then, with that, he hopped down off the counter and disappeared back into the crowd, heading for home.

Paz hadn’t got far before the hairs on the back of his neck started to bristle as he realised, with animal certainty, that someone was following him. He didn’t look back, or run, but carried on his way, ducking into the baker’s on his way past. As he waited for the lady in the shop to put two cream buns into a box, Paz watched out of the little window as a small boy concealed himself outside of the shop. Paz frowned.

Holding tightly to his box, he left the shop, hopped up on the barrel, and set it down at his feet.

Stop following me, creeper, he signed, keeping a close eye on the box. He remembered from his time at Esther’s how wicked hungry children could be. He showed the boy his teeth, and then signed again, why’ve you got a nose like a pig?

Paz hopped off the barrel and hurried on his way again. Arriving at Luke’s office, he swung inside using the beam over the top of the entrance, clambered up onto the shelf by Luke’s head and unfastened his bag. Carefully, he began unpack it, setting the box and jars neatly down beside him.

“Thanks buddy,” Luke smiled, reaching up with a clenched fist. Paz mirrored the action, bumping their fists together. He glanced outside, and sighed in frustration. Tapping the top of Luke’s head, he gestured out of the door.

There’s a boy following me Paz signed urgently, one of hers.

“Is there indeed,” Luke said, frowning and putting down his hammer. He strode to the front door and flung it open.

“If you’re coming in kid,” he said, not even bothering to look for him, “get a move on. Paz and I have a lot to do.”