Clary waved at the figure across the street and caught Tom's attention. He waved back with a grin and came jogging across to them.

"Where're you three off to?"

Clary beamed. "Rosalind's taking us to the markets."

"What are you getting?"

"We're just having a look," chimed in Klee.

"I'm getting something," Clary told Tom. "I don't know exactly what yet, but I've been saving up my money for ages and I'm going to buy something nice for myself. Mama gave us some money too, for a bit of a treat."

"Hurry up!" came Rosalind's voice from down the road.

Clary rolled her eyes. "We better go. She's actually being nice for once, and I don't want to put her in a bad mood."

Klee snorted. "Should take bets on how long that'll last."

Clary elbowed him. "You're too young to be betting."

"So're you."

Tom chuckled. "You don't want to be throwing your money away like that anyway, there are much better things to do with it. Have a nice time at the markets!" They both said their goodbyes and Tom strolled off up the street, whistling. Clary and Klee looked at each other and then ran to catch up to Rosalind.

Everything was going well at the markets until they reached the stall with the face paints and Rosalind stopped. "I could do with some more lip colour."

Clary looked wide-eyed at all the little pots of face paints. "Me too."

Rosalind sniggered. "You don't have any in the first place."

"Well, I want some."

"Don't be a looby, you're too little."

Clary glared at her. "I'm NOT little, and I can have them if I want them."

"Now, now," interrupted the mot behind the stall. "I have plenty for everyone. How can I help?"

Rosalind smiled sweetly at her. "I'd like to buy some lip colour, please."

"Me too," added Clary.

"Ignore her," Rosalind told the woman. "She's just my poxy little sister."

"I'm not poxy!" she snapped. "I just- ow!" Rosalind had pinched her arm, hard, out of sight of the mot they were speaking to. Clary kicked her and she flinched.

"They're always like this," Klee told the vendor conversationally. She grinned and rolled her eyes good-naturedly in reply.

"Mama said I'm in charge," Rosalind was saying loftily. "That means you do what I say."

"I can buy what I want to! It's my money."

Rosalind dug her nails into Clary's wrist. "There's no point in you buying face paints, even if you were old enough. You're so ugly that nothing would be able to improve you anyway."

Clary stomped on her foot and shoved her backwards with enough force to send her falling backwards into the street muck.

"You sarden little brat!" she screeched. Clary saw the coloured light of her Gift beginning to pool around her hands, and her eyes widened. The last time Rosalind had managed to get her with her magic, it had hurt. There was no way she was just going to let her do that again, but without the sprites nearby to protect her there was no option but to get away. Making sure she didn't lose her money, Clary wove her way around the other people and stalls in the marketplace, until she was sure there was no way for anyone to have followed her.

"Clary?" Tom lifted the lamp higher, trying to see if the shape was a person or more shrubbery. The shape moved, and the light caught Clary's face. "I hoped I'd find you here," he said in relief. "Clary, are you alright?" She wasn't moving to get up so he sat himself down beside her on the riverbank, the lamp between them. "I came across your da and Klee out looking for you and told them I'd help. Klee said you both got into a fight and you ran off, but apparently Rosalind's saying you attacked her because you were demanding that she give you more money and she was refusing."

"That's not true," said Clary. "She's lying. She was going to hurt me with her magic."

"I thought Klee's version would be much closer to the truth."

Clary nodded and smoothed her skirt absentmindedly. "Aren't you going to ask me if I had fun at the markets?"

Tom blinked at her. "Well, you ran away, so…"

"Well," she said, "I did have fun. Oh, and I got these for you." She fumbled around and then handed him a small package of his favourite sweets.

"Thanks!" He offered them to her immediately and then took one after her. "You didn't have to do that."

"I know," she said. "I wanted to. And I bought myself some things too. See?" She held her arm out in front of his face, and he saw the light glinting on metal.

"New bracelet?" He held her arm gently so that he could admire it more closely.

She nodded. "It's mostly silver with some copper in it too. It wasn't very expensive, but I like it." She put her arm back down by her side and turned her head away from him. "And look."

Tom looked. "…what'm I supposed to be looking at?"

Clary huffed. "I had eardrops put in, you bugnobbed looby."

He leaned closer and saw them. "They look nice. Did it hurt?"

"No." She snorted. "Rosalind was fine when she had hers done, so I knew I'd be fine. I'm no craven, even if I am younger than she was."

"How old was she?"

"Sixteen. I was supposed to wait until I was sixteen too, but Mother wasn't there to stop me."

"Do you think she'll be angry?"

"Yes," she replied triumphantly. Although now that she thought about it, it didn't seem to be such a good thing now as it had at the time. She pushed that thought aside. "Rosalind will be furious," she said. That definitely still felt good. "Well, do they look nice?"

She saw him smile at her. "Very nice. They make you look older."

"Really?" She beamed.

"Absolutely. Next thing I know, you'll be getting wrinkles." He ruffled her hair. "But I think it's time to get our grown up girl back home again."

She fixed her hair, ignoring him. Finally she spoke. "I'm not going home."

"Clary, why would you not go home?"

She drew her legs up and rested her chin on her knees. "I don't want to."

"Everyone's been very worried. Your da said your mother's beside herself."

Clary snorted. "Mother doesn't actually care about me. She only cares about me being perfect and making a good marriage so she can brag to all her friends about it."

"That's not true, Clary. She might be angry at you at first, but she'll also be very relieved that you're safe. I know you don't always get along with her, but that doesn't mean she doesn't love you. Don't forget about your da and Klee either, they'll be very glad to have you back." She was still silent, so he tried a different angle. "Besides, I'd miss you too if you didn't go home."

That got her to look at him. "But I could tell you where I was. You could come and visit me."

Tom shook his head. "If you don't want to be found, you'd have to go a long way away, like mayhap Scanra or sommat. We'd probably never see each other again."

Clary thought this over. "It doesn't seem like such a good idea anymore," she muttered.

"You'd be hungry and cold and lonely," Tom pointed out. "And you wouldn't have money to buy yourself nice things like that bracelet or those eardrops."

She fingered one of the eardrops. "Mother's going to be furious."

"But not forever. Mayhap for a day or so, but after that things will go back to themselves." He got to his feet, picking the lantern up. "Come on, let's get you home. Have you got everything?" Clary nodded. He took hold of her hand to help her up, and then didn't let go. Normally she'd have protested, but right then she didn't mind. It was surprisingly comforting.

…………………………………………………

All too soon they were outside Clary's house, and she hurriedly drew her hand away. She reluctantly followed as Tom walked up the path. He knocked on the door but then opened it himself. "Hello? Mistress Wright, I've got Clary here." They heard a door crashing open and then running footsteps, and Klee threw himself at her. "I thought you'd just come home but then we got home and you weren't here and Rosalind was telling Ma untruths about you and I said she was lying and then she got mad at me and said that I was lying just so you wouldn't get in trouble but Da believes me and I'm really glad you're home."

The corner of Clary's mouth turned up just a little. She realised he was in his nightclothes, and had red eyes as though he'd been crying. "What's the time? And where's Da?"

"It's past ten, and your father's gone back out looking for you," her mother snapped, coming out of the sitting room. "It's dangerous out there, if he's hurt it'll be all your fault for running off selfishly."

"But Mother, I –"

"Quiet, you've caused more than enough trouble for today!"

"But Rosalind –"

She slapped her. "I told you I don't want to hear it!"

The side of Clary's face stung, and she felt fury building up inside her. Before she knew what she was doing, she'd raised her hand to slap her back.

It was Tom that stopped her, his hand around her wrist. He leaned in close to her ear. "Clary, she's your mother," he murmured, so that only she could hear.

She felt herself droop; he was right. They didn't always get along, but she did love her mother still. She'd have felt bad later and been in even more trouble if she had slapped her. She wrenched her wrist out of Tom's grasp and ran up the stairs. "You're cracknobbed and mean and I hate you," she shouted once she was safely out of her mother's reach, and she slammed her bedroom door.

………………………………………………

Tom quietly opened the door to the barn and workshop and peered inside. Nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary, but he was sure that he'd heard the door opening and closing in the quiet of the night. He held the lamp up, letting the light grow and take over the shadows of darkness, and he saw her. After pulling the door quietly shut, he made his way over to where she'd curled up in the hay with the cats around her. She was still in her nightdress, but she'd slipped pattens onto her feet and wrapped a blanket around herself. Tom smiled as he saw she held the grey cat toy he'd given her a few years before. Clary had been asleep, but her tearstained eyes flickered open as he drew near. Tom set the lamp down. "Did your da come home?"

She nodded in reply.

"Well, that's good. You shouldn't have come really, you know. The streets are especially dangerous at night."

She blinked and rubbed her eyes sleepily. "I climbed out my window," she told him. In her half-asleep state, it didn't even register to her that that wasn't explaining much at all.

Tom chuckled and passed her one of the pillows he'd brought down. "We'll get you back home at dawn, before your mother wakes up and finds out you're gone." She didn't protest to this plan, so he tucked an extra blanket around her for warmth before settling himself down with the other pillow and blanket. "Goodnight," he whispered, and then smiled as he realised she was already asleep again. Obviously had a tiring adventure today, he thought, and blew the lamp out.

Clary decided it was best to ignore the fact that they'd snuggled up together during the night, and instead scolded him for his sarden snoring. Neither of them knew it then, but it was the first of many.