The wooden token showed three full bowls. Tavi’s real bowl was empty.
“One token,” Dex said. “We can share it.”
Noll turned the little wooden disk over. A number had been burned into the back. On the front were a gate and three full bowls.
“Vale charged for each person.”
“He won’t know how many bowls we use.”
Noll’s younger sister Tavi held out her empty tin bowl. “He knows how many people we are.”
Beyond Vale’s stall, guards stopped travelers on the direct road to the garden. Vale’s toll company owned that road. He said the garden had food all year and the tokens were the only way in. Dex had bought one before Noll could stop him.
Now they had less money and a seed catalog with a page of numbers tucked inside.
The numbers had come from a trader whose friend worked at the garden. At the top were the words Seed catalog, edition seven. Dex had found an edition nine and tried it anyway. The first line had sent them toward a bridge that no longer stood.
Tavi opened the older catalog she’d carried in her coat. Edition seven. She had liked its pictures enough to keep it after their house was gone.
“Maybe use the right one,” she said.
Dex took the message. Each pair of numbers gave a row and a word in that row. The first pair was 2–3.
Tavi pointed at the second printed row:
BEANS NEED WORKERS AFTER RAIN.
“Third word,” she said.
“Workers,” Dex read.
The next pair, 5–2, pointed to entrance. Farther down they found old footpath and east gate. The last line said bring your own bowl.
“That doesn’t sound like a place where nobody works,” Noll said.
“It sounds like a place with meals,” Dex answered.
They could follow the old footpath without going through Vale’s guards. The message described a daylight route along the low ridge. It gave landmarks Tavi found in the catalog’s simple map.
Vale approached while they compared it.
“Wrong road,” he said. “Tokens are for the main gate.”
“Who issued them?” Noll asked.
“We handle entry.”
“You handle the road,” Tavi said.
Vale smiled at her, then held out his hand to Dex.
“I’ll trade you two more tokens for that page. You shouldn’t travel on old directions.”
Dex had already paid for one promise. He wanted the purchase to have been clever. He also wanted the bowls in the picture to be real.
He folded the number page and put it inside his coat.
“We’ll ask at the east gate.”
Vale’s smile went away.
“Keep your receipt,” he said. “You’ll need it.”
They left the road in full daylight. Noll carried a second copy of the numbers, written before they left the stall. Tavi carried the catalog. Dex kept the wooden token and its numbered receipt.
An hour along the footpath they saw Vale on a parallel track. He couldn’t reach them across the ditch, but he kept pace.
“He wants the page,” Tavi said.
“He wants us on his road,” Noll answered.
Dex stopped reaching for a faster route. He followed the landmarks in the message: split stone, low ridge, east gate. Their water was low, and nobody had eaten since morning. This was no time for another guessed bridge.
The garden lay behind a fence patched with mismatched boards. People were weeding among pale green rows. Beside the gate, a line of travelers waited with bowls and cups.
Dex could smell soup.
A woman at the entrance asked how many were in their group.
“Three,” Noll said. “One child.”
“I can offer a meal for her. Adults can take a short paid shift or pay for theirs. I’m Pera.”
Dex held up the token.
She stared at it. “What is that?”
“Entry,” he said. “Vale sold it.”
“Entry is free. That won’t buy soup.”
Vale reached the gate from the other track. He put a hand on the fence.
“They misunderstood my service. I sell passage on the road.”
“Your receipt says garden entry,” Noll said.
Dex handed Pera the receipt. It matched the number on the token.
She read it, then called the travelers nearer. They gathered beside her, each holding a bowl or cup. She said plainly that the east gate required no token. Her voice shook when she finished. Vale was a man with guards; he wasn’t going away because she’d caught him lying.
“Why send us a code?” Dex asked. “Why not say all that outside?”
“His guards tear down our directions on the road. Sometimes they take the people carrying them. Seed listings get through. Once you’re here, you should know what we’re offering.”
She showed them a board inside the gate. Its entry rules were faded and partly covered by a work list. Dex had passed it without seeing them.
“Can I move the work list?” he asked.
Pera took it down. He used a piece of chalk to make NO ENTRY TOKEN large enough for the waiting people to read. Two travelers put their wooden disks away. Another asked Vale for her money back. He left before answering.
Nobody followed him onto the guarded road.
Pera would send copies of the coded footpath directions with runners she knew. The plain rules would stay visible inside the gate. It would not free the whole road, but people arriving here could learn before paying again.
Noll chose a short shift carrying trays. Dex joined him. They earned two meal tickets and a little money; there was no promise of work tomorrow.
Tavi waited on a bench where she could watch them. Her bowl filled first. She ate slowly while Pera found two more clean bowls for the men.
Dex still had his useless token. He put it in his pocket. He wasn’t going to tell this story as if he’d known all along.
When they sat down, Tavi looked at the three bowls.
“We only brought one,” she said. “Do these stay here?”
“Yes,” Noll said.
“Then whose turn is it to wash them?”
Dex finished his soup and stood. “Mine.”
Loading comments…