She handed the hat back to Sara with a flourish and a concealed smile.
Prin winked at her in thanks and started in the direction she’d indicated, Sara at her side. She turned and called, “I’ll be back later to look at your hats.”
They walked in the direction of the dog seller. A raven landed on the roof of a green and white striped tent. Both Sara and Prin noticed the odd way it looked at them, hopping and dancing to get closer. It moved to the edge of the tent and said, “Hannah beware.”
Sara put her hands to her mouth in surprise. “That was Evelyn’s voice.”
“I thought so too.”
“Hannah beware,” the bird said again softly, then flew off.
Sara turned to Prin. “The good news is that you didn’t imagine that.”
“I wonder if it was the same bird?”
“It was Evelyn’s voice, and it did call you Hannah. I think she somehow sent it.”
Prin said, “How could she do that?”
Sara shrugged. “I don’t know. But we both think it was her voice, and only she would know that other name. Instead of wondering how we should be wondering why. To send a warning across over a mountain range is beyond me, but I’m just a beginning sorceress, and there’s a lot I don’t know.”
“I wish she had said more.”
“Well, I think telling you to beware, along with the idea of sending the message, tells you all you need to know. They are coming for you. They know you’re here. Beware.”
They walked down the aisles in silence, still heading for the place where the dogs were sold, but Prin kept her eyes to the sky, and to any birds that might call her name. She noticed another bookseller along the way. Within the hundreds of books, one emitted small blue dots, like the floating pink dots at Evelyn’s workshop in the forest, but these were tiny, blue, and remained floating near one book. She nudged Sara and shifted her eyes to the book.
Sara nearly stumbled at the sight, then recovered. Speaking loud enough for those near her, she said, “I need a book with recipes. I’m tired of eating the same things every day.”
The woman selling the books spoke up, “I have a few you may like.”
They pretended to be interested in the three other cookbooks, finding one contained complicated recipes, one that was in bad condition, and one had pages missing. Prin recognized the letters of the titles and tried sounding out the words, while Sara talked to the seller. Sara found a small, but detailed book of local plants, including detailed drawings of each, along with descriptions and possible medical uses. She placed it on the counter and then reached for the book with the little blue dots floating near it.
As Sara’s hand barely touched it, the bookseller reacted as if slapped across her face. She spun and grabbed Sara’s wrist, “Not that one, honey.”
“I was just going to look at it.”
“There are many other books to buy, but that one is reserved for a regular customer.”
Sara straightened and said, “We have to go see those dogs, so we better hurry. We can come back here another time.”
After leaving, Prin said, “That was odd.”
“She reacted like that with her back turned to me. How did she know which book I touched?”
“It was like at Evelyn’s workshop. I saw the bubbles floating near the book, but they never left it.”
“We’ll go to her stall again after we think about what happened.”
“Do you think she is a sorceress?” Prin asked softly.
“Possibly, but I don’t think so. I think a sorceress is using the bookseller to pass on the contents to another sorceress and she cast a spell on her.”
“Did you manage to read the words on the edge of the book?”
Sara said, “Protective Spells. It said nothing more. But the letters shifted and swirled in curlicues of ink so it couldn’t be read unless I took the time to decipher each letter in order. I believe most people would glance at it and move on because it was too much trouble to read.”
“That’s a clever way to hide writing.”
They had been walking as they talked and came to the end of the row. Three dogs were in front of a wagon, none tied, two sleeping and one idly watching people as they walked past. An older puppy was behind the wagon on a leash. A small man in baggy clothing walked it in a small open space, talking gently to the dog as they moved.
Sara said, “Let’s buy a meat pie and lemon water.” She indicated a stall with two tiny tables, each with two small chairs.
The vendor was situated where they could watch the man with the dogs without being obvious. Prin understood Sara’s objective. The previous dog seller trained them to be mean, probably by beating them, which is not the same as training. They sat at a small table where they could watch.
The man moved stiffly, and appeared hindered by bad knees but didn’t seem to be more than his early thirties. He held the leash in a limp hand, never allowing the dog to determine the direction they walked. He used careful persuasion on the pup, talking softly as it learned, praising it for doing what was asked. Although the dog was not yet fully grown, it obeyed his commands eagerly.
They devoured the meat pies, and Prin wished she had kept some of hers, to feed a dog. They finished the lemon water and approached the trainer. He greeted them with a cheerful welcome and held the puppy back with a short leash, telling it to sit.
Sara took the lead. “Our father asked us to find a dog for him. He’s an importer and exporter of rare spices, some quite valuable and we need a dog to guard our warehouse, and maybe us.”
“You can find watchdogs to chain up near your door for much less than my dogs.”
“I once saw a dog that attacked only on command. Otherwise, it was as gentle as the three sleeping at the edge of your stall.”
“Was it here in Indore?”
“No, far across the sea,” Sara said quickly, cutting that subject short.
“Well, I thought you might have run across one of mine,” he said.
“That’s how you train your dogs?”
He provided a long, convoluted description, the spiel of a man who loved his work. Within the tangle of words, Prin understood that each breed of dog has a purpose. A few breeds are large enough to pose a threat, yet gentle enough to raise among children—if they are well trained. The three dogs sunning themselves were examples.
Prin said, “I can walk up to any of them and pet them?”
“You’ll be perfectly safe—unless I give the command to attack.”
Sara said, “Will they halt their attack if you order them?”
“To sell many more dogs, the answer I give should give to a potential customer is, yes.” He shrugged in a way that said he wasn’t sure. “The truth is, maybe. When good dogs sense one they love is being hurt or is in danger, no words will hold them back.”
“Will they bite us?” Sara asked. “I mean, if they get upset that we didn’t feed them on time or something?”
He laughed. Her answer told him and Prin that she had never owned a dog, and hadn’t been around many. The man said, “Part of the expense of my animals is the breeding and selection. I accept only the best, so once a dog bonds with an owner there is no danger. None. Also, before you ask, I do not allow my dogs to be sold until the owner is also trained, a task of at least three days, well, three partial days.”
Prin approached the wary dogs still sunning themselves, her hand extended. All sniffed, but one stood and approached. It was the largest, the most intelligent in appearance, and when it wagged its tail and licked her palm the choice was made. “His name?”