The market square was quieter than it used to be.

  Fewer vendors. Fewer shoppers. People moved quickly, heads down, not lingering.

  Dain passed a merchant stall—the man wore Garanwyn colors now, a green sash across his chest. He’d heard two merchants talk the other day that they had to wear Garanwyn colours to have a stall. A Garanwyn soldiers stood near the fountain, watching the crowd. He was obviously bored.

  From a building nearby, children's voices drifted through an open window. Singing. Not Eldmere songs—Garanwyn’s church hymns.

  The occupation wasn't temporary anymore.

  Dain's stomach clenched. He couldn't remember the last real meal. Two days ago? Three? Kith had found them some half-rotted vegetables behind a grocer's. They'd eaten them anyway.

  He needed coins. Needed food.

  He found an empty corner and pulled out his instrument. His hands shook as he tried to tune it. Days without food had made him clumsy.

  When he started playing, his fingers fumbled the opening notes. His voice, usually rich enough to captivate even the most reluctant listener, came out thin and reedy.

  But people stopped anyway.

  A woman swayed slightly to the music. A child grinned. An old man closed his eyes.

  They were hungry for it. For something that wasn't Jorvan's decrees and Church hymns and the constant pressure of occupation.

  Dain's cap sat on the cobblestones in front of him. A coin clinked into it. Then another. Not much, but enough to buy bread. Maybe some cheese if he was lucky.

  He was halfway through an old Eldmere folk song when the young men appeared.

  Five of them. Bigger than Dain—dock workers' sons, maybe, or apprentices who'd lost their positions when Garanwyn took over. The kind who'd learned that taking was easier than working.

  The one in front—broad shoulders, scar across his eyebrow—stopped directly in front of Dain. The music faltered.

  "That's our corner," the man said.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Dain lowered his instrument. "I didn't know. I can move—"

  "Too late for that." The scarred man crouched, scooped the coins from Dain's cap. "Payment for using our spot."

  "Wait—" Dain reached for the coins.

  The man shoved him. Hard. Dain stumbled back, hit the wall. He was quick, wiry, but these were street fighters with reach and weight on him. And he was weak. So weak.

  "Don't," the man said. Not threatening. Just matter-of-fact. "You'll lose."

  Dain's eyes flicked past the gang. Ten feet away, a guard stood against a building. Watching. Hand on his belt.

  "Are you going to—" Dain started, looking at the guard.

  The guard's eyes slid away. Studied the sky like it was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen.

  "Not my concern," he said to no one in particular.

  The scarred man grinned. Picked up Dain's cap. "This too."

  "Come on, that's—"

  A fist caught Dain in the mouth. Not hard enough to knock him down. Just hard enough to split his lip. To make the point.

  Blood filled his mouth. Hot copper taste.

  The gang walked off, laughing. Dain's coins in their pockets. His cap in their hands.

  The guard pushed off from the wall and continued his patrol. Never looked back.

  The crowd scattered. The woman who'd been swaying. The grinning child. The old man. All of them melting away into the market, heads down again.

  Dain stood against the wall, hand to his bleeding lip. His instrument still clutched in his other hand—at least they'd left him that.

  A tooth felt loose when he probed it with his tongue.

  The square was quiet again.

  This was Jorvan's Eldmere now. The guards watched but didn't protect. The strong took what they wanted. And the law looked away.

  Dain walked back toward the warehouse. Empty-handed. Still hungry.

  ***

  When he reached the warehouse, Kith looked up from where she was teaching Pip some game with a few pebbles they'd found. Cocky was in the corner, staring at nothing like he'd been doing for days.

  Prattle landed on Dain's shoulder immediately, making worried clicking sounds.

  "What happened?" Kith asked, seeing his lip.

  "Gang took the coins." Dain slumped against the wall. "Guard watched. Didn't do anything."

  Kith's ears went flat. "Which guard?"

  "Does it matter? They don't protect us."

  Pip looked at him with big eyes. "Did you get any food?"

  "No."

  Silence settled over the warehouse.

  Cocky opened his mouth—probably to apologize again—but Kith's look stopped him.

  From somewhere outside, church bells rang. Calling the faithful to evening prayer.

  Dain's stomach growled. He touched the loose tooth with his tongue.

  Prattle pressed close to his neck, warm and worried.

  He didn't busk again.