Walking into town meant I could wake later than I would if I were going out to hunt, but Elain and Nesta woke when they normally would to get the fire going again and start melting snow for pine needle tea so I didn't get much extra sleep. We ate the pan bread Nesta had managed to bake over the embers overnight, though parts of it were overdone. Nesta took those bits herself, turning up her nose when Elain tried to trade.

I knew better. Nesta would, if pressed, admit that Elain was the better cook, but not when she was the one actually cooking. Letting either of us take the burned parts would be the same as admitting she wasn't willing to eat what she'd made, and I understood - I wasn't looking forward to eating wolf meat either.

"Wear this dress," Nesta ordered, yanking a long shift over my head just before Elain attacked my hair with a brush. She made me step into the nicer of her dresses - she was wearing the spare. "Here, I took in the bust on it and hemmed it and let out the sleeves-"

"I did some embroidery," Elaine added, twisting my hair into a braid much more gently than she'd brushed it and wrapping around my head. "It's not much, but a little bit of pretty is always nice."

She'd put more than a little bit of pretty into her efforts - she'd even put one of her treasured ribbons into my braid. I felt it when I reached up to make sure the braid wouldn't slip off my head. If I'd realized earlier I would have stopped her, but it was too late now.

"Nothing to be done about the boots," Nesta said, sounding irritable. She was cleaning them despite her irritation, I saw.

"Everyone else will be wearing them anyway," Elain consoled her, shooing my hands away from my hair.

Nesta grumbled as she dropped the boots in front of me and went to get our cloaks, tugging each one into place on our shoulders with brisk efficiency. She looked at me a moment longer than she did Elain, and said finally, "You look very nice, Feyre."

"I'm not dying," I snapped, and shoved past her and through the door to get the wolfskin. It felt strange to walk in skirts again, though I had worn a dress the last few times we went to town too. None of the northern villagers cared about women in trousers, but Isaac had mentioned once that his mother was from farther south and always wore skirts. I'd made the mistake of asking Nesta if I could borrow a dress the next time, and she and Elain had decided it meant I always wanted to wear them.

I didn't protest - Isaac did like it, even if I was just wearing Nesta and Elain's spare - but I wasn't sure I liked dresses all that much. I always stepped on the hem, and it made me feel clumsy. Neither Nesta nor Elain ever stepped on their hems.

Even with my too-big boots I was never clumsy in the woods. I didn't like the feeling.

I started rolling the wolfskin up, careful to keep sacking between the fur itself and the not-totally-clean underside. I'd scraped it as clean as I could the night before, but carrying meat in it had undone some of my work. It paid to be careful: the wolfskin was large and its fur luxurious, though it could have been a better color. White or black or pure silvery-grey sold better than the mix of brown and red and darker grey my skin sported.

A gust of wind blew, throwing my hood back and tugging bits of hair loose from my braids - Elain had made them pretty, not secure. I closed my eyes and for a moment let myself feel the cold sting and listen to the murmur of it through the trees. When I was younger I'd thought I could hear my name in it. I let myself pretend for another moment - FeyreFeyreFeyre. Then I went back to work.

Nesta and Elain had joined me by the time I'd put the rolled skin over my shoulders, and we started down the snow-covered path to town.

"Where'd you find one this big?" the merchant asked.

We'd arrived to the happy surprise of a small merchant's caravan. We hadn't realized they were coming through this week - sometimes we lost track of time, as far out as we were. I didn't want to mention moving closer. We couldn't afford it, but more, I wanted to stay out as long as I could, away from all these people. I'd have to live in the village soon enough.

The merchants meant more money for furs they couldn't get down south, and Nesta could always barter Elaine's few bits of embroidery for more seeds than our neighbors kept. She might get some roses this time if she was lucky - it would please Elain.

"Does it matter where it came from?" Nesta replied, sounding bored. "You won't find one bigger or in better condition. It was a clean kill. You can't even see the wound."

"If there are more like it around, maybe I'll talk to someone politer," the merchant said. "Maybe they'll give me a better price."

Nesta favored him with a look of amused condescension. "I'll wait."

He sighed. "You do this every time, Nesta. It wouldn't hurt for you to be nicer."

"You could just buy the fur," Nesta pointed out. "You will anyway. I'm not going to smile at you over a sure thing."

He sighed again, but he looked amused. "I'm buying, I'm buying. Same as usual."

"No," Nesta said when I almost handed over the fur. "It's twice as big as usual. Twice the price."

"Unreasonable."

"My sister killed a wolf that size on her own," Nesta retorted. "You're lucky I only want twice the price and not half the usual price again."

"Yeah, and what'll you get selling it just in the village?"

"I'll be helping the local economy," Nesta said primly. "Interacting with my neighbors."

"Uh-huh," he said, unimpressed.

"You'll sell it for three times the usual price at least," Nesta said.

Feyre.

I spun with the snow the breeze kicked up, ignored for the moment by Nesta and the merchant. No one was there.

Feyre.

The wind, I realized. I'd never heard it sigh like this in town, but I wasn't often in town.

"Feyre?"

A touch to my elbow startled me, and I jumped away.

Clare Beddor looked at me with concern, though Nesta was still bartering with the merchant.

"Are you alright?" Clare asked, frowning at me in concern.

"I'm fine," I said.

"No Elain? Nesta let her go off on her own?" Clare asked. "She won't get the same without Nesta selling her embroidery."

"She's looking, not buying," I said. "We'll find her in a bit."

Clare nodded, the strands of silky dark hair arranged on either side of her face gleaming.

Clare was Elain's age exactly, and when we'd moved north Elain had been happy to have a friend. I thought it was silly - Elain made friends with whoever she was talking to at any given time, which wasn't always a good thing - but Elain said friendly aquaintances wasn't the same as being friends. When the money had run out we'd come to town less and less, and Clare's parents hadn't liked her coming out to visit us. Finding out that Clare had been trying to talk Elain into visiting the wall was the last straw: Nesta hadn't ever let Clare visit with Elain alone again.

"Faeries aren't real, Nesta," Elain had pleaded. "It's not like your bedtime stories."

"Maybe not," Nesta had snapped, "but something is up there, and people go missing, and she's not going to drag you into it."

Nesta had so many faerie stories I didn't recall her repeating one unless Elain asked for it specifically. The stories hadn't ever helped me fall asleep - there were too many murders for that - but Elain had liked them, and Nesta had decided that bedtime stories were something that parents were supposed to do for children going to sleep, so bedtime stories we'd had, even back in the capitol. One of my earliest memories was Nesta sitting in a chair near my bed telling me matter-of-factly about the dangers of faerie knights, unable to pronounce some of the bigger words.

Nesta was why I hadn't hunted near the wall before. This last time I'd reminded myself that the fae preferred pretty girls, inside and out, and I was not Elain.

Now, Clare said, "Do you think Nesta will get what she wants?"

"Yes."

Clare laughed. She'd always laughed a lot. Sometimes I'd thought it was at me, but it was hard to tell. "She usually does, doesn't she?"

She wasn't wrong, but for some reason it felt disloyal to agree with Clare.

"Remember she couldn't sell it if you didn't bring it in."

"Obviously," I said, unsure what she was implying.

"Well," Clare said, resettling her cloak. "When you're married to Isaac you'll bring Elain with you. She'll do much better in town, and Nesta will have to look out for herself. See how she likes not bossing people around."

"When I marry Isaac," I replied, stung, "I'll bring both my sisters."

Clare, true to form, laughed. This time I was sure it was at me. "I'll sit back and watch Mistress Hale deal with her, then. My aunt isn't known for her patience."

I glared. Clare smiled and looked past me. "That is a pretty skin, though. Where did you get it?"

"North," I said, cold as the wind that had started blowing again.

Her eyes sharpened, and she stopped smiling. "How far north?"

I shrugged, turning back to Nesta and the merchant. Clare grabbed my shoulder. "Feyre. How far north? How close to the wall?"

I ignored her. Nesta was about to settle for just under her asking price, and we could go find Elain and buy her seeds and go home and not have to deal with any more nosy townsfolk for another while.

Except I still had to see Isaac. Well, I could do that while Elain and Nesta shopped.

"I'll buy it," Clare said loudly just before Nesta and the merchant formally agreed.

"Too late," Nesta replied without looking over her shoulder.

Clare named a sum. It was large enough that Nesta turned around and the merchant blinked.

"It's more than he's giving you, isn't it?" Clare asked. Her tone had an edge that made me step closer to Nesta so I was between them.

Behind me Nesta hesitated. It was more than she'd pretended to want, but the merchant was reliable and would buy whatever we brought next trip, whereas Clare had never bought anything we'd made before. She'd explained to me that steady money was more important than large but unreliable possibilities - that included, she added venomously, speculating on ship cargo.

"Let the girl buy it," the merchant said. "I'll buy more if Feyre keeps bringing them in, and maybe I'll have a for sure buyer next time.

I hadn't realized he knew my name. I looked at Nesta, who watched Clare as if the girl was more dangerous than the wolf I'd killed.

Clare took out her purse and counted out the coins, holding them to Nesta though she didn't look away from the pelt.

Nesta made a face and took them, stepping quickly away and pulling me with her. She nodded to the merchant, and I looked back as we walked away.

Clare collected the wolfskin. I didn't like how she touched it: the reverence she used set me on edge, like an itch inside.

Feyre, the wind whispered again, rattling the thatch roofs and wagon bits and knocking my hood off again. It sounded urgent.

Nesta stopped out of sight of the wagon to tuck the money away and fix my hood. "You'll catch cold," she said.

I couldn't put into words how strange Clare and the skin had made me feel, but when I gestured back Nesta understood anyway.

"Mistress Lorraine says Clare likes faerie stories," Nesta told me. "Too much. She thinks she's pretty enough for them to steal away."

"She is pretty," I said.

"She's very pretty," Nesta said. "She's not prettier than Elain. Why she wants to wed a faerie knight and live forever in his castle - I know you think I was cruel."

"You didn't want Elain to leave," I said. "I understand."

"I didn't want Elain to leave?" Nesta asked. "No. Clare listens to the stories, and thinks about the knights and the jewels, and forgets that all the girls end up dead."

"But they aren't real," I said. "What harm to go to the wall? I've done it."

Nesta's face tightened, and so did her sudden grip on my wrist. "Real or not, faeries or not. Clare listened to the stories about dead girls, and she wanted my sister to go with her."

Feyre.

"What is it?" Nesta asked, looking around.

"It's windy today."

"You're cold?" she asked with a frown, reaching up to feel my forehead. I ducked away, out of her reach and out of her grip. Her frown faded to her usual cool appraisal, and she said, "You're never cold."

"I'm used to trousers. How are you comfortable in these?"

She snorted and turned away. "Let's go find Elain."

I let her walk farther ahead of me than usual so when I heard it - FeyreFeyreFeyre - I could hiss, "What?"

Come and find me.

I shook my head and followed Nesta.