“Anything to avoid walking for the rest of the day,” Crow said to Penelope with a wink. He sprawled out in the hay, letting out a long sigh. Whatever the end of their journey would bring, at least he had time to relax for the next few days. He planned to enjoy it while it lasted. Rolling onto his side, he closed his eyes to nap off the remnants of his hangover. With the security of Penelope’s and Hartley’s company, he had no trouble at all falling asleep in the cart.

--

Eventually, Crow was roused when they needed to part ways with the farmer. Penelope thanked the man for allowing them to ride with him, and then addressed the two thieves, [color=fff79a][b]“Sun’s going to set soon, so let’s find a place to settle down for the night. Any places in mind?”[/b][/color]

“I’m partial to finding another inn,” Hartley suggested with a weary, one-shouldered shrug. “A soft bed sounds much more pleasant than the forest floor.”

“Seconded,” Crow yawned, still not fully awake after his nap. He followed as Hartley took the lead, heading down a side street as they searched for a place to lodge for the night.

After a bit of looking, they found a small inn. Hartley stood in front of the entrance, peering up at the sign. “The Wooden Pixie Inn?” he read aloud. “That’s an interesting name.”

“You can read that?” Crow threw the boy a sideways glance. “Aren’t you a peasant?”

“I can, and I am,” Hartley met his gaze with a quizzical look of his own. “All peasants know how to read. What’s your point?”

“Nothing,” Crow flushed and averted his gaze. “Forget I asked.”

“Wait,” Hartley went on, oblivious to the older thief’s discomfort. “You’re illiterate?”

“Yeah, I am,” Crow shot him a defensive glare. “What, is that surprising to you, mister ‘all peasants can read’?”

“I mean, kind of,” Hartley admitted. “I’ve honestly never met someone who was illiterate before.”

“Well, excuse me for not being blessed with an education,” Crow snapped. “Peasants in Brerra don’t have the luxury to learn about reading and writing.”

“Sorry,” Hartley held up his hands. “I had no idea.”

“Just forget it,” Crow shook his head and stepped through the entrance of the inn. He wished he hadn’t brought it up. To know that the peasants in Younis were so much better off than the ones in Brerra that they were all literate pained him. He resented the king of Brerra for robbing them of the opportunity to learn and do well for themselves. Instead of helping his people, the greedy man had raised the taxes so high that every commoner spent his entire life toiling to make payments at the end of every season while still supporting himself and his family. It made him sick.

Crow stepped up to the counter, where the innkeeper stood counting his money. “Good evening,” he greeted the man. “Do you have any rooms left for tonight?”

“A few,” the innkeeper grunted, setting down the coins in his hand. “What sorta room are you lookin’ for?”

“Just one with three beds.”

“I think I got one o’ them left,” the innkeeper ducked down below the counter and then bobbed back up with a key. “Yep! This here’s the last. Forty-five Tael should cover ‘er nicely.”

“Thanks,” Crow reached into his pocket and pulled out the coin purse he had kept hidden, glad he had managed to keep it away from William. He passed the man two gold coins and one silver, remembering which coins Hartley had used to pay for the inn two nights ago.

The innkeeper inspected each coin shrewdly for a moment before he passed Crow the key, “Pleasure doin’ business with yer. The room’s down that hall to the right.”

Crow nodded. He accepted the key and walked back to Penelope and Hartley, “Ready to go?”