It took another hour for Catherine and Barrel to reach the forest edge. The last stretch of town faded behind them in stubborn little sounds—distant chatter, a cart wheel squeaking over stone, a hammer striking metal, all thinning out, swallowed by the treeline.

  She stopped there for a moment, staring into the trees, wondering whether it was worth walking any farther, but not because it was dangerous. She exhaled and furrowed her brow. “All this effort for ten coppers…” she whispered to herself.

  She looked at Barrel, half-hoping he might somehow tell her to back out of the deal. She looked at Barrel, half-hoping he’d offer even the tiniest sign of agreement. Some hesitant whine, a step backward, anything that would let her turn around.

  Of course, the family dog only stared back, tail wagging slightly, looking far more excited about the job than she was. With a quiet sigh, Catherine glanced at her bracelet once more. Then, without looking back, she stepped into the forest.

  Felgar’s woods were quiet for the most part. Few animals roamed this close to town. Catherine didn’t waste time wandering and headed straight toward the creek, the one fed by the small waterfall at the mountain’s foot.

  Even so, she kept an eye out as she walked, scanning her surroundings for anything of interest. Flowers dotted the forest floor, vines crawled up tree trunks, and once in a while she spotted a stag moving through the trees. Nothing unusual.

  Before long, she reached the narrow creek she had been looking for and followed it upstream toward the sound of falling water. Barrel remained calm the entire time, walking without even stopping to sniff. Catherine took that as a good sign. If the dog wasn’t worried, the forest was probably safe.

  Soon, she heard it, the steady rush of water. They were close.

  At the same moment, Barrel stopped. His ears perked up as he sniffed the air, paws shifting beneath him. Catherine glanced at him, then around them. She saw nothing out of place. Then, without warning, Barrel took off, sprinting toward the waterfall.

  Catherine hesitated, heart skipping. She couldn’t tell whether he was excited they had found what they were looking for, or if something else was waiting ahead. Either way, she ran after him, doing her best not to trip over roots or branches as she chased him through the trees.

  Barrel finally stopped near the waterfall, nose to the ground, sniffing in slow circles.

  “What are you looking for?” Catherine asked, a hint of annoyance creeping into her voice.

  As she watched him, her gaze drifted past the spray of water, and there it was—a small cluster of herbs growing just a few paces from the creek, exactly where they’d been described. Catherine crouched and pinched the stems between her fingers, testing them like she’d seen apothecaries do. The scent was clean and bitter. She gathered a handful of herbs, slipping them into her satchel. After a moment’s thought, she added a little extra, just in case the elder needed more.

  Once that was done, she turned back to Barrel. The dog was no longer wandering around. He was fixated on a single spot, nose pressed low to the ground. Catherine followed him, curious. There was nothing there. Just grass, fallen leaves, twigs, and a half-eaten apple. Looking closer, she noticed a trail of trampled leaves and flattened grass leading away from it.

  “Probably just an animal,” she thought. “Something eating an apple that Barrel scared off.”

  Barrel didn’t stop. He continued along the trail. Catherine called after him, telling him to head back, but he ignored her completely. She rubbed her temple, exhaling. Since Barrel clearly refused to turn back, she decided to follow him.

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  “This better be interesting,” she muttered. “Or you’re grounded.”

  The trail led them upward, winding in small turns. They climbed until the sound of falling water changed behind them. Catherine realized they were above the waterfall now. Barrel sniffed along stone until he stopped, standing rigid at the base of a cliff.

  Catherine stared at the rock face, then at him. “Rocks?” she said flatly. “You made me walk all the way up here to look at rocks?”

  Barrel barked once.

  Still, having already gone up, Catherine decided to inspect the cliff. She stepped closer, letting her palm hover inches from the stone. It looked ordinary at first—until it didn’t. The rock in front of her blurred.

  Catherine stumbled back. Her breath hitched. For the briefest moment, the rocks seemed to soften, ripple, and melt away before snapping back into place.

  “What in the sparking—”

  She reached forward again, slower this time, fingers extended like she was about to touch a hot stove. The moment her fingertips brushed the surface, the illusion gave way. Stone blurred beneath her hand, then dissolved entirely, the air suddenly open and cold. Catherine lurched forward, and she found herself standing at the mouth of an opening carved into the cliff’s base.

  For a moment, Catherine simply stood there, staring into the dark entrance. Barrel stared at it too, tail wagging. Then her lips curved into a wide grin. “Yes!” she exclaimed, hopping in place. “You did it! You found one of those secret caves the old folks always talked about, the ones with treasure inside!”

  She stepped just inside, cool air brushing her face as she looked around. “Just imagine what’s waiting in here,” she said, rubbing her palms together, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips.

  Before she could go any farther, Barrel nudged the satchel at her side, stopping her. “Right. The job.”

  She glanced down at the satchel, then back toward the cave’s depths, excitement warring with responsibility. “Well, this can wait for now,” she said, turning to Barrel. “But don’t go leading anyone else here, alright?”

  On their way back, just as they reached the creek, Catherine noticed something lying on a flat stone near the water. She paused, then stepped closer. Bending down, she picked it up and turned it over in her hand. It was a circular object, nearly the size of her palm, with a cut string still attached.

  An amulet. One side held six small stones, each etched with a strange letter. One of them, a bluish-green stone, glowed faintly. The other side bore a single needle, pointing to her left, toward the cave. Catherine tilted her head, then slowly narrowed her eyes, her gaze darting side to side. “It looks like… someone else was looking for the cave.”

  Her grip tightened. Not wanting anyone else to find it, she slipped the amulet into her satchel. Without lingering, she tugged gently at Barrel’s collar. “Come on,” she whispered.

  The two of them headed back to town at a brisk pace before whoever lost it came back looking for it.

  She hurried to the elder woman’s house. The elder’s grandchildren had left the house open for her. Catherine knocked gently on the woman’s door, after which she was asked to come in, the elder unaware that it was her. Pushing the door open, Catherine found her lying in bed, her skin pale and drawn, just as she had expected.

  “Good afternoon,” Catherine said softly.

  The woman stirred, eyes fluttering open as her head turned toward the sound of Catherine’s voice. “Miss Catherine? Why are you here?”

  Catherine pulled the herbs from her satchel and stepped closer. “Your grandsons made a deal with me,” she explained. “I’m here to prepare your medicine.”

  The woman frowned and shook her head weakly against the pillow. “Those two good-for-nothing goons… when I get up from this bed—”

  She was cut off by a fit of coughing.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Catherine said gently as she prepared the herbs. “I offered to do it.”

  She went on to explain how she had come across them while they were discussing her situation, easing the elderly woman’s concern. At the very least, it hadn’t been her grandsons who had gone out of their way to ask Catherine to do it for them. Once the leaves were fully mashed, Catherine soaked them in hot water and carefully handed the cup over.

  “Drink this slowly,” she said. “I gathered enough herbs to last you a few days, too.”

  The woman thanked her profusely, apologizing for the trouble. Catherine waved it off, bid her farewell, and headed toward the door. That was when she noticed a small pouch hanging from the doorknob, a note tied to the string. Curious, she opened it, and inside were fifteen coppers.

  The note was addressed to her, thanking her for the effort and for the care she had shown. Before Catherine could react, her bracelet glowed on its own. A soft shimmer formed in the air, words floating before her eyes.

  Job well done!

  You completed the task of collecting herbs for Grandma

  and prepared her medicine for her.

  You earned fifteen coppers, five more than the estimate.

  P.S. You’re a shrewd novice.

  Catherine blinked once before raising an eyebrow.

  “…Shrewd?”