At the bottom of the stairs, a hallway branched off to the left and right. Night eyes lit the way in both directions, but Piper felt an invisible pull, like a string around her waist, drawing her to the left. Beside her, Anna fidgeted as if she too felt the phantom string.

They walked slowly down the hall, Piper casting nervous glances behind her every few steps, though she didn’t know exactly why she was anxious. Maybe it was because she had heard the sarnun’s voice in her head, yet so far, Raenoll’s house appeared to be empty.

The hallway ended, opening up into a sitting room with a large rug laid out on the earthen floor. A padded bench and two comfortable-looking chairs took up most of the space, and white sheets covered the curved walls and ceiling. It made the room look stark and uninviting. Only a handful of the night eyes lit the room, so the space was dim, but Piper could see, and feel by the damp chill, that there was no fireplace, and she shivered.

It was a few moments before she noticed, seated in one of the chairs, a shrunken old sarnun woman. Her dry, leathery blue skin barely held her bones, and her feelers were nearly all calcified. Only two remained mobile, and they lifted toward Piper and Anna in a feeble greeting.

Piper nodded in return. “Raenoll?” she asked.

The woman nodded. “You are welcome here,” she said. The echo of her mind voice seemed louder now that they were in the same room. Piper wondered if sarnuns were able to communicate with each other over long distances, speaking from city to city, country to country. She tried to imagine all those voices traveling hundreds of miles, overlapping and jumbled.

“We’re sorry for coming here so late,” Piper said, “but we aren’t going to be in Tevshal very long, and we need your help.”

“I understand. You have an object for me to identify?” Raenoll asked.

Out of the corner of her eye, Piper saw Anna squirm. “Not an object,” she said firmly, “a person. See, my friend here has lost her memory. She doesn’t know who she is or where she comes from. We were hoping you might be able to … look at her, or something, and see if you can tell us about her.”

Raenoll gestured to the bench and waited for Piper and Anna to sit down. “I can promise you nothing,” she said. “My power lies in reading purpose—destiny, if you will. The purpose of an object is fixed. Its destiny rarely changes, and so it is a simple matter to divine where it has been and where it is going. A person is mutable, an entity that changes and evolves. Their destinies are similarly uncertain, but occasionally I am able to catch glimpses, flashes of their purpose and future.”

“That’s all we ask,” Piper said hopefully.

“A challenge of this nature undertaken so late at night—it will of course affect the price.”

Piper had been waiting for this part. Sarnuns were master bargainers, and though they couldn’t read human minds, they read their facial expressions so well that it was almost impossible to bluff them. Piper knew they had enough money to meet any price Raenoll named, but she had no intention of letting a sarnun grandmother wring them out. It was a matter of scrapper pride. “Sure, sure, the extra coin’s a given,” she said, “but you just said you can’t guarantee results. I don’t buy a fish if it smells rotten, and I won’t hand over a fistful of coins for a machine I don’t even know will work.”

“You would like a test, then?” The sarnun’s feelers swayed back and forth in what looked to Piper like a considering motion. Finally, she answered. “Accepted. Give me an object that is dear to you.”

Piper reached inside her shirt and pulled out the pocket watch. She took off the chain and handed it to the sarnun. “This came from Scrap Town Sixteen in the north,” she said.

“You are a long way from home,” Raenoll said as she took the watch. It looked big and heavy in her shriveled hands. Piper had heard sarnuns were so physically weak that they couldn’t lift anything heavier than a soup pot. There were other stories, though, of what they could move with their minds.

“What can you tell me about it?” Piper asked.

Raenoll’s feelers brushed the watch face tentatively. She closed her eyes.

The blank room suddenly came to life, startling Piper.

A man’s face appeared on the white-sheeted wall closest to Piper. Piper turned, her hand automatically reaching for her knife before she realized the man wasn’t real. It was only a blurry picture fading in and out but with more details slowly appearing in the background. Gradually, the picture widened, covering all the sheets in the room like wet paint poured across a canvas. Objects took shape. Behind the man loomed an immense square tower and the largest clock Piper had ever seen. A river flowed nearby, and other figures walked in and out of the picture, but they were mostly indistinct shapes, little blots of gray and black.

“The man who owned this watch cast it off in the river,” Raenoll said, opening her eyes. “Broken beyond repair, he said. It drifted away, forgotten, and when it came to you in this world, it was in pieces.”

The scene was a wonder, Piper thought. She folded her arms, forcing herself to look at Raenoll instead of the sheets. She didn’t want the sarnun to see how captivated she was by the moving pictures, but it was almost impossible not to stare at the man and the strange, ominous-looking tower rising behind him. Beside her, Anna watched the images with her hands half covering her eyes, her mouth open in awe.

So much for subtlety.

“You put on a good show,” Piper admitted, and thought she saw Raenoll’s feelers vibrate in the sarnun equivalent of a smile. “But how do we know you didn’t just dream all this up to impress us? Maybe you show these same pictures to every stiff-hip trader who comes knocking.” Piper didn’t really think that was the case, but she had to try the bluff. She didn’t want Raenoll to know how impressed she truly was by the stunning sights the sarnun had put on display.

Abruptly, the pictures on the sheets disappeared, and the sarnun’s voice rang shrill in Piper’s mind. “You call me a charlatan!” she screeched, and Piper winced. “Would a charlatan know that you tried three times yourself to cast off this watch, and three times you failed? It owes you its existence. Without you it is broken beyond repair.” The sarnun’s feelers moved agitatedly around her face. “Would a charlatan tell you that, scrapper child?”

Piper was too shocked to come up with a clever reply. Raenoll knew her whole history with the watch—it was as if the sarnun had opened a window into Piper’s mind. She felt Anna tugging on her sleeve. “What’s wrong, Piper?”

“Nothing,” Piper said, recovering her composure. “I just realized this is going to cost a lot more than I expected, but she’s the real thing.”

The sarnun’s feelers vibrated again. She handed the watch back to Piper. “Shall we say twenty?”

“Agreed,” Piper said, wincing. She’d never paid so much for anything in her life. She pulled out the money belt and counted the rectangular coins, then gave them to Raenoll. “Tell me about Anna,” she said.

“Now come over here, child,” Raenoll said, gesturing to Anna. “Sit before me.”

Piper felt Anna shrink from the sarnun. She’d been expecting this too. She gave Anna a reassuring smile. “Anna, remember what I said. I’ll be right here with you. You’re safe.”

“I’m not afraid of her,” Anna whispered.

“Then what’s wrong?”

Anna looked at her nervously. “What if she shows me something bad? What if I’m a bad person—another wolf?”

“That’s impossible,” Piper said, and she meant it. Anna was a mystery, it was true, but Piper had never sensed any deception or malice in her. She grinned. “It’s true you talk funny, you eat like a grapa hound, and you’re incredibly annoying, but I’m actually starting to get used to all that.”

“But—”

“What I’m saying is, you’re not a bad person, Anna.” Piper squeezed her hand. “Trust me. I’ve got excellent instincts for these things.”

Anna nodded, but still she moved slowly to sit on the rug in front of Raenoll. The girl looked like a fly cuddling up to a spider, Piper thought. The sarnun leaned over so her feelers could brush the top of Anna’s head, and Anna tensed, but she didn’t draw away.

“Close your eyes,” Raenoll instructed. “Try to clear your mind and think of nothing at all.”

Obediently, Anna closed her eyes. Piper watched the blank sheets hanging on the walls around them, her own body tense in expectation.

A flash of color saturated the white canvases. Piper tried to make out what was in the picture, but it disappeared too fast for her to see any details. Then the room fell into darkness, with only the tiny lights of the silver flowers shining on the walls. The sheets had gone completely black.

“What’s happening?” Piper whispered, worried that Raenoll’s power wasn’t going to work. “What is that?”

“Piper?” Anna sounded frightened. “What’s going on?”

“Both of you be silent,” Raenoll said sharply. “Concentrate, and keep your eyes closed, child.”

Anna whimpered softly. Piper perched on the edge of the bench, resisting the urge to go over and slap the sarnun’s tentacles away from the girl.

A rush of motion passed over the dark canvases, and the blackness shrank to become a massive building made up of gray stone blocks. Piper squinted, trying to make sense of the new picture, which took up almost all the blank space on the sheets and filled the room with a gloomy haze.

Iron staircases ran up and down the sides of the building, and a film of dirt covered the few windows offset in the stone. There were trees surrounding the structure—their branches a mix of dead and living leaves, as if the shadow of the building was gradually suffocating them. Piper finally realized what the building was when she saw the thick black smoke rising from chimneys along its roof, and her stomach dropped.

Piper coughed as if trying to expel phantom smoke from her lungs. Her father had been too kind in his drawing of the factory. The image on the walls was a place of despair.

“That’s Noveen,” Piper said, trying to keep the sadness out of her voice. “We were right, Anna. You’re from the capital.” She didn’t mention the factory or the deadly smoke.

Another flurry of motion crossed the walls, and the factory shrank to reveal a bird’s-eye view of the city. Piper watched as the land rose, leaving behind the haze of factory smoke, up a cliff side and over to a view of the ocean. The beauty of it, such a sharp contrast to the factory, stole her breath. It was so stunning she hoped for the image to widen so she could get a better view of the blue-green expanse, but the view stopped on a beautiful mansion situated at the top of the cliff. White stonework and columns formed the backdrop for a vibrant garden and a large stone fountain in front of the house. Unlike the factory, the mansion was all lightness and windows, and there wasn’t a hint of smoke to mar the pristine landscape.

Was that Anna’s home? Piper didn’t want to disturb Raenoll by asking the question. She figured that it had to be her house, though. Anna’s fancy yellow dress, and the money she’d been carrying—this was exactly the kind of place where Piper expected someone like her to live.

The mansion faded, and this time the sheets stayed blank. Raenoll lifted her feelers from Anna’s head and sighed. “You may open your eyes, child. You did very well.”

Anna opened her eyes and blinked sleepily up at the sarnun. She seemed calmer now too. Piper checked her watch. They’d been here for almost an hour, though it had felt like only a few minutes. The 401 wouldn’t leave for a while yet, but they needed to be heading back before it got any later. “Is that all you see?” she asked Raenoll.

The sarnun nodded. “As I told you, with people, there are many uncertainties.”

At least she’d confirmed that Piper was doing the right thing by taking Anna to Noveen. Piper was reassured by that, but on the other hand, they’d learned nothing about who the man from the caravan was or why he was after Anna. Piper had hoped they might get some clue there.

“We need to go,” Piper said, glancing nervously at her watch again. “We should get back to the train.”

Anna stood up, looking at Piper worriedly. “What did she see?” she asked.

“Someplace good,” Piper assured her. “I’ll tell you about it later—when we get back on the train. Thanks for all your help,” she told the sarnun.

“Before you go,” Raenoll said, “may I speak to you alone?” She glanced at Anna. “Wait at the bottom of the stairs, child. I won’t keep your friend long.”

Anna looked at Piper uncertainly, as if she was nervous about leaving her. Piper wondered why Raenoll wanted to send the girl out of the room when she could just speak directly into Piper’s mind. She hesitated, then nodded toward the door. “Go ahead, Anna. I’ll be right behind you.”

“All right,” Anna said reluctantly. She left the room, disappearing down the hall.

Piper waited nervously for Raenoll to speak. Could she have seen something else, something that she hadn’t put on the walls? she wondered. The sarnun’s expression was impossible to read, but her feelers had again adopted that swaying, considering motion, as if she was choosing her words very carefully.

Piper’s nervousness made her impatient. “So?” she asked. “Why do you have to talk to me alone? Couldn’t you just say what you wanted to say into only my mind?”

“Yes,” Raenoll said carefully. “But humans often have poor control over their emotional responses. I was afraid your face would give you away, and I did not want to alarm the child.”

Piper’s stomach twisted. “Alarm her with what?” she asked.

“That child is very fragile,” Raenoll said. “You should know that if you abandon her, she will certainly die.”

Piper sank back down on the bench, clutching the edge for support. Raenoll was right. Her expression would have given her away. She leaned toward the sarnun. “But how can you know that? You said there were too many uncertainties.”

The sarnun’s feelers didn’t move, but Piper somehow sensed the woman’s confusion. “There are. I have tried to read human destinies before, but she is by far the most difficult subject I have encountered. None of it is clear, except that the two of you are connected. She needs you.” Raenoll paused, and for a long moment, her mind voice was silent. “There is something strange about her, but I sense she is valuable. That is why you are helping her, I assume?”

Piper felt her face flush. “Maybe you don’t know as much as you think.”

The sarnun’s feelers became utterly still. “I sense the reward you will receive for helping the child get to Noveen will be greater than anything you can imagine.” Her mind voice was flat, cold. Piper felt a tremor go through her body, a feeling similar to what she’d experienced when she saw Anna’s money belt. But the sarnun wasn’t finished speaking. “It will also be horrifying to you. Neither of you will be able to stand it.”

Knots of fear and anger welled up in Piper. “Well, isn’t that nice? So what you’re saying is, if I leave Anna, she’s going to die, but if I help her, something terrible is going to happen to us anyway? What kind of a stupid destiny is that?”

The sarnun shook her head. “It may not happen that way.”

Piper stood up, her hands clenched into fists. “Can you try to be more specific, then, or do you just enjoy playing around in people’s heads?” She kept her voice down so it wouldn’t carry out to the hallway, but her body shook with anger.

“You know nothing about me, scrapper child,” Raenoll said, but there was no anger in her words. “If I could see a clear path, I would point you to it. I know you are afraid—”

“Of course I’m afraid!” Piper said in a strangled voice. “Anna’s depending on me. There’s a man who’s ready to kill me to get to her, and my only plan was to get her to Noveen first so she’d be safe. Fine, so maybe I do want a reward, but why not? After that, she’ll be safe and taken care of, and I’ll be alone again!” She covered her mouth, realizing what she’d said, but it was too late to stop the words.

Piper turned and ran from the room.

The sarnun’s mind voice followed her into the hall. “Do not be rash, child. You are strong enough to save your friend. Do so on your own terms.”

“I don’t know how,” Piper said miserably. She waited, hoping the sarnun would reply, offer her help, reassurance … something.

But Raenoll’s voice faded, and Piper was alone in her head.

Anna was sitting on the steps waiting for her. Piper didn’t pause, just pulled her to her feet by the bend of her elbow as she went past. “Let’s get out of here,” she said, and Anna seemed eager to follow.

Of course she wants to go with me, Piper thought. Didn’t I tell her to trust me? Except it didn’t matter whether Piper was worthy of that trust or not—either way, according to the sarnun, something bad was going to happen.

At the top of the stairs, Piper shoved the alley door open angrily. To her surprise, the door shoved back, hitting her shoulder with enough force to knock her off balance. Before Piper could recover, an arm snaked around the door and grabbed her, pulling her roughly into the dark alley. Another arm covered her mouth so she couldn’t scream. And from somewhere next to her, she heard Anna utter a frightened squeak that quickly cut off.