She made her way to Pellar and lived as a street urchin in the city of Pendwyr, cadging for food or coin. That she did not practice her trade is understandable, for she believed, unlikely as it might seem, that news of a child performing feats of escape and acrobatics might perk up the ears of the authorities and she would be arrested for a killing that occurred in a nearby land. After all, in Pendwyr, the capital of the realm, news often came from lands both near and far, as did notices of murders and rewards.

Through another street urchin, a lad she liked, she fell in among a band of thieves, and soon her skills proved invaluable, for locks did not stop her, nor did gates nor walls nor dogs nor the city watch nor private guards… she never failed to find a way to get 'round each and every one.

And they taught her the art of picking a pocket and of cutting loose a purse without the victim discovering it until it was too late, and she quickly acquired the skill. Too, they showed her how to swindle a gull by first winning his or her confidence and then duping them in the end. In this, too, Ferai was a fast learner, for it was little different from what Old Nom had taught her in days past, though here the risk was much, much greater, yet so were the rewards.

It was this band of thieves that took to calling her Ferret, for as one said, "We're simply undoing what that awful Gothonian accent has done to your name." And in spite of the fact that she protested, saying that the word for ferret in Gothonian was furet, still she had to agree that in her native tongue it sounded quite a bit like Ferai, and so the name stuck.

She stayed with this band for four years, but in the end she tired of the incessant bickering and squabbling among them and so struck out on her own.

Some of her thefts were spectacular, for they involved silently crossing on a slender rope from one building to another above a patrolling watch, or slipping through a ring of alert guardians, or opening an unopenable lock, and other such sensational feats.

For nearly ten years she lived by her wits in Pendwyr, and the killing of that pig Lemond faded into the past. But her parents were in her thoughts each and every day, and she often wept for the remembrance of them, in particular when anyone sang.

Aye, she lived by her wits for nearly ten years-much of that in relative comfort-ere the city watch came for her, and that just three weeks past. They burst through her door and into her room and arrested her before she could escape, and they discovered under her mattress a single golden earring. How it had gotten there, Ferret did not know, but it proved to be one of many items taken in a theft. As to why the watchmen had come for her, it seems that someone had named her the miscreant in a case where Lady Brum had been wounded when she had come across a thief burgling her house in the night.

It was later rumored that an old compatriot of hers from her erstwhile days had collected the reward for her capture.

In spite of her protests of innocence, she was quickly convicted and sentenced to death for stealing a Lady's jewels and attempting to murder her.

They threw her in a cell next to those housing the Rover captains, though some called for her to be thrown in with the pirates instead: they'd visit a right proper punishment on her before she went to the gallows, wouldn't they now?

She languished in her cell awaiting death. And the warders were careful to keep anything from her which might be used as a pick, for whoever had turned her in had reported that she was a wonder with locks. As proof, the city watch noted that the complex lock on Lady Brum's jewel box had been opened without the thief leaving a single mark; either that or the jewel box had inadvertently been left open, which Lady Brum angrily denied.

And so, Ferret was trapped in a cell with no way to open the door.

The day of the hanging finally arrived…

And then Arin and Egil and Aiko and Delon the bard had come along…

And now Ferret sat on the bow of the Brise and watched the waves go by. And Delon at the stern lifted his Elven-sweet voice in song.

Ferai began to cry.

CHAPTER 48

"Why do you weep, luv?" Delon sat at the bow and held Petal's hand.

"Because you sang."

"Am I that bad?"

She cast him a glimmer of a smile and wiped her cheeks with the fingers of her free hand. "No, Delon. You sing beautifully. It's just that…"

Her speech faltered, but Delon remained silent. After a moment she said, "It's just that I was remembering."

Fresh tears welled and ran down her cheeks. Gently Delon pulled her to him. "Cry all you need, luv." And he cradled her against his shoulder as she wept.

And the Brise cut through the translucent waves of the deep blue indigo sea.

A long while later, Ferret said, "Would you sing more another time?"

Delon looked down at her. "For you, luv, indeed." Onward sailed the Brise, Delon yet holding Ferai next to him. In the distance, skimming low over the waves, glided a white bird with long, long wings. Delon pointed it out to Ferai.

"What is it?" she asked.

"An albatross, I think. They say it spends its entire life on the wing."

Ferret sighed. "As sometimes I think do I."

Delon looked again at her. "Me, too, luv. Me, too."

They watched the bird for a while, until they could see it no more down among the waves, and Ferret said, "Do you really think I know something that will tell us where to go?"

Delon shrugged. "It's been that way so far: each new person the key to finding the next. All but Alos, that is, though Arin thinks he yet may have a part to play.

"And as for you, luv, I truly do believe you hold a key as well. As to what it might be, I cannot say. Perhaps something from your past: something your father or mother said; a picture you saw; a rumor you heard; a song, a story, a poem, a saying; or something altogether different."

"From what you say, Delon, it could be anything," protested Ferret.

"No, luv, it can only be one thing: a keeper of faith in a maze."

"But I don't know any keepers of faith."

"Well, then, perhaps you know of a maze."

They continued sailing south-southeastward and two more days passed, days and nights filled with discussions and debates as to where they should go next:

Aiko argued that they should go back to Jute and take Gudrun captive, for she had the only cursed maze that they knew of. And when someone pointed out that the rede called for a keeper who was cursed and not the maze, Aiko replied that given her appetites, surely Gudrun was cursed as well.

Delon recommended that they head for Black Mountain, so that Lysanne could work her magic on Ferret.

Egil suggested that since they were in the Brise, they could sail to Rwn and do the very same thing: have one of the Mages there reveal whatever knowledge might be hidden deep within Ferai's mind. Too, they could perhaps lift his own curse-for his nightly ill dreams continued unabated-and perhaps the Mages could recover his lost memories as well.

Ferret herself objected to anyone, much less a Mage, rummaging about in her thoughts, her memories, her very essence.

Alos argued that wherever they went, he was quitting this mad quest.

Arin calmly listened to all, weighing the choices before them.

During this time the only thing they settled was the makeup and shifts of the crews: Egil, Arin, and Aiko sailed the Brise throughout the night; Alos, Delon, and Ferret handled her by day. Of course there was a goodly overlap from midafternoon till mideve, and this was when the debate as to what to do and where to go became most heated.