Malamphoro returned from a journey to the market to find a sort of roadblock at the entrance to his street. Three boys stood around a barrier made from a wooden crate and some junk lumber. They were wearing “armor” made of wood and string and the two older boys held stout sticks in their hands. Not wanting to startle them, which happened so often these days, he called out from several yards away, “Good lads, what’s going on?”

  They turned to look at him. “Who goes there!” cried the eldest.

  “Malamphoro the alchemist. Who wishes to know?”

  “I’m Captain Spitball,” said the boy, “And these are Lieutenant Mudpie and Sergeant Booger.”

  “And you’re keeping watch over this street?”

  “Yes, Sir. We don’t want any morbos or worse coming into our city.”

  “Good work, lads. Tell me, do you take note of people going the other way? I’m curious because I live on this street and I have heard that some suspicious characters were hanging around my house.”

  “Sir we were here last night, and the only people we saw were two who said they were going to visit you.”

  “Interesting, since I had no visitors. Can you describe them?”

  “Well, they were definitely grownups, but not very big. They wore gray cloaks and their hoods mostly hid their face.”

  Lieutenant Mudpie said, “They were wearing boots. Like for rough work.”

  “Excellent observations,” Malamphoro said. “What about you, Sergeant, what did you notice?”

  The little boy said, “One of them smelled like a girl.”

  “Well done. Now, let me tell you a secret. I have enemies who are spying on me, trying to learn my secret formulas. I suspect those two people you saw were spies. So if you’ll help me out by keeping your eyes open, I’ll bring you some lemon candy next time I come by. How does that sound?”

  “Yes, Sir, we’ll be extra-double watchful,” said Spitball.

  “Extra-triple watchful,” said Mudpie.

  Malamphoro saluted them and continued down the street. So, he thought, two people had come in last night and, challenged by the boys, had said they were visiting him. And, really, there wasn’t much else they could have said, since of the four houses closest to the wall his was the only one still occupied. But that meant they knew about his house. Perhaps only to avoid it?

  Reaching the end of the street, he considered the house across from his. It looked well shut up, with boards nailed across the door and the window shutters. He moved on and took a closer look at the empty house next to it. The doors and windows of this house also looked well sealed, but checking more closely he found that the board across the door was not really secured. Removing it, he pushed the door open and stepped into the front room. In the dim light he saw two crude beds made of blankets and straw, and a coil of rope. A hole had been knocked through the wall between this house and the one next to it, the one by the wall. This must, he thought, be the way they were getting to the wall. But he had no light with him and did not feel safe going in farther, so he went out, trying to put the door in the state it had been in when he found it.

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  As he turned toward his own house he saw a familiar figure at the end of the block, speaking with the boys. She must have given them satisfactory answers, since they waved her on. But he did not like it that even those boys had seen her going to his house. He waited for her at the door and they went in together.

  In the upstairs room Bernicia through back her hood and took her accustomed chair. Malamphoro said, “What can I do for you?”

  “Reassure me that I am not mad. I have been speaking to my mother and she makes me crazy.”

  “You are not mad. Not at all. Not in the least. Is that adequate reassurance?”

  Bernicia laughed. “I suppose it will have to do. I had the letter sent to the College.”

  “Thank you.” Malamphoro stopped then and looked at Bernicia with a strange sort of intensity.

  Bernicia said, “I feel like you are weighing me. For what?”

  Malamphoro said, “I was trying to decide whether to tell you something. I have decided that I shall. After all, you must learn to handle secrets if you are to govern a city.”

  “I adore secrets.”

  “Secrets are not for adoring, they are for keeping.”

  “Quit teasing me or I shall go mad for real.”

  “I had a visitor last night. Someone I had not seen in many years. A goblin.”

  Bernicia gasped. “You speak to goblins?”

  “When I was a boy, I rescued one who had gotten trapped in a net. A child. They took me down into their tunnels, to what was for them a great underground hall, and named me goblin friend. They said I had done them a service and could ask for a service in return.”

  “What did you ask for?”

  “I asked them to teach me a secret, for people said that goblins had much powerful lore. They taught me the making of a potion against gout. It was the beginning of my career in alchemy.”

  “That’s amazing.”

  “But then the Wave came, and from then until last night I had not seen a single goblin in Calyxia. My visitor told me that most of them had died, for the Wave went into their tunnels, and they are few in this city.”

  “What did he want? Your visitor?”

  “To warn me that humans were passing through the wall at a point near here, and that they sometimes feed Maremorbos.”

  “What?”

  “Yes, it is extraordinary. It puzzles me that humans would do it, and it also puzzles me that goblins would care.”

  “We need to find where they cross.”

  “I have already found it, I believe. Through those empty houses across the street.”

  Bernicia leaped to her feet. “Let’s go now. I want to see.”

  Malamphoro held up his hand. “I do not think that is wise. It would make more sense to watch this place and find out who these people are who come. The boys up the street told me that they walk in that way.”

  Bernicia began to walk back and forth. “We will need some men. I can get them. How many do you think? Six?”

  “I am loath to make this some kind of official inquiry, with palace guards. I wish to know more, first. I have a feeling there is something happening here, and I do not wish to wreck it before we know what it is.”

  Bernicia considered that. “I could find someone to help unofficially. My friend Orso would be perfect. He can fight and has been breaking rules since he learned to walk.”

  “I think perhaps two men.”

  “I’m sure we can find another.”

  “Very well. I will keep watch and try to determine if they have a pattern. I will send for you when I know more.”

  When Bernicia had left, Malamphoro looked for the package of medicine he had made up for the goblins. It was gone. Somehow one had slipped into this small room and taken it, without his noticing. Well, goblins were like that, almost impossible to see if they did not want to be seen.