"I don't like this one bit Cooper," Tunstall said, meandering his way through the stalls of the

Nightmarket. "Though there's nothing we can do but keep an ear out. We haven't a clue what's

happened to him, where he's gone, nothing." Goodwin had her thinking face on, and obviously

didn't want to be disturbed. Usually this lasts for the entire watch; her half present, half not state

where its more up to me and Tunstall to do the keeping of the peace, though she often comes out of

the clouds if there's a fight. Considering that, I was surprised when she spoke.

"I don't like the Rogue going missing. It has never happened before with out his body turning up the next day, and even so, that's a rare event. Rosto strikes me as too good at what he does to get caught unawares. Not to mention he's one of the fiercest fighters in the city, mayhap only topped by that mot of his, Aniki." I decided not to mention the fact that Aniki had a new cove - Bold Brian. What she was saying made sense; it was things that Kora, the others and I had gone over endlessly. If news of Rosto wasn't come about soon, things in the Court of Rogue would go to pieces entirely, and nothing Aniki, Kora and Phelan did would keep it together. It had been better in the Lower City since Rosto had taken the throne, and the folk knew that. They liked Rosto, which made his disappearance even more puzzling. It had to be either someone with a personal thing against him, or someone after his throne, though the latter would have surely stepped in to take control by now. Or just murdered him in public and had done with it. Then he would be King by right, rather than going through all this business of kidnaping him in the first place.

I voiced my thoughts, something which I have become more comfortable with doing around

my dogs as of late. They both considered my words carefully, and I'm certain they both had

something to say, but we'd arrived at Mistress Carvers stall, and Tunstall was more focused on the

food she had to offer than our missing Rogue. He mused and picked over the choices, taking great

pains to decide which ones he wanted this time, though he'd had something every night for the last week.

"Might'n I recommend the apple cinnamon patties?" she offered, her accent still very

pronounced. "They're fresher than the rest." Tunstall grinned, handing over his coins.

"I'll take a half dozen of them Mistress," he said. She gathered several delightful smelling patties in a large napkin and handed them over with a smile. I had no doubt they'd be gone within several minutes.

As we were walking away I heard her curse behind us. I turned to see a pigeon ducking at

her head, forcing her to drop the basket in her hands to hide her face. I ran back to help. I often felt

responsible for the pigeons, simply because I heard the ghosts riding them. I managed to catch hold

of the pigeon and held its wings to its sides. She was on the ground, picking up the contents of the

basket she had dropped. I threw the pigeon into the air and it flew off to the rooftops where it

perched, eyeing us with its beady black eyes. I knelt to help her with the mess before it was

trampled by passerby. I gathered a stack of papers, all what looked to be orders for baked goods

from those with money, more than any of us in the Lower City have. I caught a couple of words at

the top of one, an order from someone written in Scanran. This whole things was getting stranger and stranger. A mot who lived in the Lower City wouldn't have the money to afford so much paper; I'd not have been able to make maps for Goodwin and Tunstall when I was chasing the Shadow Snake if they hadn't given me the coin to do so. Not to mention the names that had been signed at the bottom of each order were unusual. There was one from His Grace, the Duke of Queenscove, as well as my Lord Provost. Probably the strangest thing was, though I'd gotten used to it long ago, was the fact that she could write at all, and as well as any noble. Most folk in the Lower City couldn't, and I'd only learned because I'd lived with my Lord Provost for several years, though I would have learned when I was training as a Dog if I hadn't already known.

Then I came upon a sheet of paper that was tattered and worn, where the others were crisp

and clean. It took me a moment before I realized what I was seeing. A list, seemingly of pointless

occurrences; the Scanran merchants that I'd spoken with nearly three weeks ago had arrived in town, several times Tunstall, Goodwin and I had visited her stall...but the thing that struck me most

was her handwriting. I now know why I recognized the writing from Rosto's note. It was only a

moment before she snatched the papers from my hands, stuffing them back in the basket and hiding

it behind her back, clearly flustered. I stood there for a moment, staring at her in shock before

Goodwin called back to me.

"Are you interested in eating dinner or would you rather spend the rest of the night standing

right there?" she asked. "Don' know 'bout you, but I'd prefer supper." I hurried to catch up with

them, my mind whirling. Mistress Carver had written the note, either that or someone was

exceedingly good at copying her writing, because it was a unique script.

I don't know for sure what I ate that night. All I could think about was speaking with my

friends when I got back to my lodgings that night. I could only hope that one of them would have

something to add, because on my information alone I couldn't do much.

"Something bothering you Cooper?" Goodwin asked, shaking me out of my daydreams. I

put down my fork and ceased shoveling food into my mouth as though it would disappear any

moment.

"Something I noticed when I helped Mistress Carver," I began, and now that I had Tunstall's

attention as well, she nodded for me to continue. "Her hand writing is the same as the note Kora was

given 'bout Rosto this morning."

HAHAHAHA! I updated. :D