Dedicated Elaine was in the general store bakery getting cake. The bakery did not have cake, but she enjoyed the challenge.


    “Now I know for a fact ye have those tasty little ones, and don’t ye lie to me, young lady! I can smell cinnamon sugar a mile away.”


    Merry, a stout young woman who usually had a beautiful smile, put her hands on the counter and growled, “Look, ye miserable hag! Look at the display case! What do ye see there! Cakes? No! We don’t have any! And if ye don’t like it ye can damn well-“


    The door behind her swung open and Barry, a thin man with sharp eyes, came out, dusting his hands on his apron. “Merry!”


    Merry glanced at him and asked sweetly, “Yes?”


    Barry looked at Elaine. “What did ye want, Dedicated?”


    Merry said, “Oh Barry-“


    Barry said, “Come on, Merry, just give the woman what she wants. She’s a woman of the cloth, isn’t she? Now what’ll it be?”


    Dedicated Elaine smiled. “That’s how ye treat a priest! Shame on ye, Merry. Toyin’ with the ole woman what baptized ye.”


    Merry humphed.


    Barry said, “As ye say, Dedicated. An’ so?”


    Elaine said, “I’ll take two of those little cinnamon cakes what ye had last week.”


    Barry stared at her. “I will say this once, an'' only once, Dedicated, but if what ye want isn’t in the display case, ye best choose again or else. That’s the rule an'' well ye know it.”


    Dedicated Elaine looked at him with a steely expression. “Boy, if ye don’t-“


    She saw something out the corner of her eye and turned to look.


    “Dedicated?” Barry asked.


    Elaine dismissively waved her hand. “Ye know what? Ye’re right. I’ll take three of those moon things... No, wait. Four.”


    Merry looked out the window but saw nothing. Just the pigeons in the square.


    Barry nudged her and said, “See? Problem solved. Get her the crescents.”


    He went back into the kitchen.


    “Right,” Merry said slowly. She pulled the bread rolls out, wrapped them, and had to call for Elaine’s attention to hand them over. Elaine passed over payment, which Merry started to count in an old ritual.


    Elaine headed for the door.


    Merry called after her, “Dedicated! Wait! Ye- oh, ye didn’t short-change us. Huh! Never mind.”


    “I’ll do it next time!” Elaine yelled back and left.


    Merry craned her neck to look through the window to follow her. Her jaw dropped.


    “Barry! She’s finally done it! She’s gotten so pissed at us for not havin’ cake she’s only lost her mind an’ summoned a demon! Woe is we!”


    Barry replied, “Woe? No! If it makes cakes we might have to borrow it. The Dedicated’s right, there’s a market for cake.”


    “Can’t ask to borrow a demon!”


    “An’ why not? Can ask to borrow sugar.”


    Merry thought about it. “Huh. Well mebbe ye can.”


    She watched for a moment longer. “I don’t think we can borrow it, Barry.”


    “How’s that now?”


    “Cause the Reeve’s over there too, an’ ye know how he feels ''bout things gettin’ weird.”


    Barry stuck his head out of the kitchen to squint through the window. “Well mebbe- gosh that thing is red. Hard to steal. Mebbe if we dyed it?”


    “Steal? Who said anythin'' ''bout stealin’?”


    “Well it’s a demon, isn’t it? Gotta show it who’s boss.”


    “By stealin’ it?!”


    He shrugged. “How else are we gonna impress it? Bread?”


    “Not yers, anyway.”


    <hr>


    In the otherwise sleepy village of little cottages clustered around in neat rows along carefully laid gravel paths, Chatter easily spotted the old woman sprinting across the street towards them, her eyes focused on Trish. Chatter tapped Trish on the shoulder and pointed.


    “Reeve?” they asked.


    Brody, who’d been silently leading the way through town, turned around.


    “Yes? Oh. Dedicated, good morning,” he said.


    Chatter signed to Trish, ‘This is a Dedicated.’


    Trish signed, ‘The one who took in Alsom and Calyn for the night?’


    Chatter turned to ask the Dedicated when they paused, startled.


    The Dedicated approached, signing as she said, “Good morning, everyone! Warden, welcome. I hope you slept well. I was just picking up some breakfast for my own guests, but I thought perhaps you might like something to eat?”


    Chatter smiled and stepped aside.


    Trish grinned, elated. She signed, ‘Good morning, Dedicated. You sign very well! We’ve already had breakfast, but thank you.’


    Brody said, “Thank you, Dedicated, but we’ve already eaten.”


    Elaine ignored him to sign with Trish. Brody huffed in irritation.


    Chatter arched its neck over to Brody. “If you want, I can tell you what they’re saying.”


    Brody eyed them and took a deliberate step away. “Unless it’s something I should know, I’m good.”If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Chatter shrugged. “Suit yourself.”


    The Dedicated signed, ‘I spent a lot of time in the Selton Warren. Learning sign was easier than not learning it! I’m Dedicated Elaine. And you must be Trish.’


    Trish signed enthusiastically, ‘Yes! I am! You even got my nickname right. But how do you know me?’


    ‘I called for you!’


    Trish clapped. ‘Ah, I see. You’re Dender’s friend. It’s so nice to meet you.’


    ‘And you! He talks about you all the time. Now, is the Reeve here being nice?’


    Brody straightened. “That was me, wasn’t it? That sign?”


    Chatter was impressed, but instinctively lied. “No.”


    Brody looked at them. “Mmmhm.”


    Trish signed, ‘He’s a bit prickly, but otherwise he’s very accommodating. It did take some convincing just to let Chat around and about. Oh, this is my Vox, Chatter.’


    Chatter bowed.


    The Dedicated signed, ‘Well met, Chatter. What a magnificent demon you are! I thought I smelled a Grand Nega, but I couldn’t be sure. Don’t have much of a nose for it. But your fur stinks of blood!”


    Chatter preened. ‘Thank you, Dedicated. You stink of flowers.’


    ‘Flatterer,’ Elaine signed, amused. ‘I ought to smell like corpse.’


    Chatter grinned, sharp and toothy. ‘You do. A nice fresh one, laid out in flowers and smudged with sweet ash. But I was told it wasn’t polite to say such things. Isn’t that right, Trish?’


    Trish signed, ‘Yes, but she’s a Dedicated, Chat. She’s supposed to smell like that.’


    Brody, watching the street anxiously and sternly glaring at a few early risers stopping to gawk, coughed. “If you don’t mind, Dedicated?”


    Elaine said, signing, “O’ course, Reeve. Ye must be tryin’ to get out to the scene o’ the crime afore everyone starts starin’ at yon demon here. Though like as not, the bakers are eyein’ ‘em up already, the scallywags. Oh, afore ye go: here, demon. An offerin’ from one servant to another.”


    Elaine passed over a roll. Chatter took it with both hands, eyeing it in a puzzled way.


    “Thank you,” they said. “I will keep it always.”


    Elaine snorted. “Ye’re supposed to eat it, dummy. So much as ye can eat Barry''s rolls.”


    Chatter considered the roll, then unhinged their secondary jaw. Brody looked away quickly, blood leaving his face.


    Chatter delicately placed the roll on their tongue and swallowed it whole. “Deeeeelicious. Thank you.”


    Trish held up a hand, drawing the Dedicated’s attention. She signed, ‘A moment, Dedicated.’


    ’Yes?’


    ’You knew of the banshee when you called, did you not?’


    Elaine’s eyebrow rose. ‘I did. I said as much- were you not informed?’


    ’There was no notice on the job sheet. It’s fortunate that I had just that day recovered from an illness, or I would have been at enclave with the other unassigned deaf weirdens for the solstice. As it was, I received a note from Dender only just in time to beg the job off Senda.’


    ’Lucky Senda, then, that you were there. But did Dender not inform you?’


    Trish signed, ‘His note made no mention of it. Perhaps he thought it would have been on the job description. It should have been.’


    Elaine frowned thoughtfully. ‘Then you don’t have any of your equipment.’


    ’Some. The most important things. The rest can be devised by other means.’


    Elaine shook her head. ‘I just pray you have the time for it. How could they misprint so? It’s like to get someone killed.’


    Trish smiled faintly. ‘I assure you, it would take more than a small error to kill a Warden.’


    <hr>


    Brody’s shoulders relaxed as they left the eyes of the town and stepped onto the wooded path. The Warden and her demon seemed content to follow him without conversation, which suited him fine. As they went, he found himself enjoying the walk through the woods. It was a beautiful morning. So as they approached the bend in the road where the body had been discovered, he slowed. He didn’t want to go up the hill again.


    Trish went past him, stopped, then with pauses to sniff the air, strode directly up to the tree. The hairs on the back of his neck rose when he realized.


    “She’s very talented,” the demon said from right behind him, breath ghosting across his neck.


    Brody jerked away. “Don’t."


    The demon blinked at him, one eye at a time in a dizzying wave. Then it smiled with all its sharp teeth. “I wouldn’t hurt you even if I could.”


    Brody said tersely, “How nice. What’s she saying?”


    Trish was signaling something with large arm gestures.


    The demon said, “She says she’s acquired the scent. You can head back now.”


    Brody asked, “And what are you two intending on doing?”


    The demon said, “We’ll find the banshee, of course.”


    “But there aren’t any tracks. We would have looked for it…”


    The demon tapped its nose. “There are ways, if you know how to look.”


    Brody hesitated. “I’m loathe to leave you out here alone. You don’t know the area, for one.”


    “Trish may be inexperienced, but she is well trained in woodcraft. We’ll not get lost. And your husband was kind enough to pack two days of food and water, so we are well supplied,” the demon said, shifting a pack on its back that Brody swore wasn’t there on the hike up.


    “Two days? But the banshee-“


    “Obviously we’ll return before that becomes a concern. I may be weird, but I’m not stupid, Reeve. We’ll be back before nightfall.”


    All told, he found it convincing enough that despite his misgivings, he waved goodbye and headed back into town. He was just leaving the woods when he wondered what the demon meant by ‘inexperienced’.


    <hr>


    Sometimes weird sense was a smell. Sometimes it was a vision or a feeling like scales on skin. Sometimes it was even sound, but Trish couldn’t attest to that.


    The smell of a banshee wasn’t something that could be translated into anything mundane. Trish had most of the day to ponder how she might describe it as she and Chatter took turns tracking the leftover impressions of the weird’s passage through the world. She hadn’t ever really thought about it before.


    During a water break, she signed, ‘I think it’s like pancakes if they were made of metal.’


    Chatter snorted. ‘That’s absurd.’


    ‘Is it?’


    Chatter considered. ‘Well. Maybe- no. No, it’s absurd.’


    Trish signed, ‘What do you think then?’


    Chatter signed, ‘You know I’m not creative.’


    ‘Humor me.’


    ‘I really don’t want to.’


    ‘Oh, come on, Chatter. You never play games with me! I thought you were my friend.’


    Chatter bristled. ‘Hey! Uncalled for!’


    Trish smiled. ‘Then play with me. What do banshees smell like?’


    Chatter waved their hands in frustration. ‘I don’t know! Knives!’


    ‘Knives,’ Trish signed flatly.


    ‘Yes…’ Chatter signed, ‘Knives.’


    ‘Are you sure?’


    Chatter planted their hands on their legs and bent forward aggressively before signing, ‘You know what, Trish, yes. Yes. Knives. Banshees smell like knives.’


    ‘So you’re committing to this.’


    ‘Absolutely,’ Chatter signed emphatically.


    Trish snickered. ‘Fine. Knives.’


    <hr>


    Dedicated Elaine wasn’t keeping an eye out for the weirden. She was simply meditating in the field next to the wooded path. It had been a while since the Lady had blessed this particular field, after all. No wonder she felt called to it.


    The Reeve shook her awake. “Oh look. You’re not dead.”


    She scowled, swatting him away and sitting up. “Course not! Oh. Hello, Riven.”


    The child stood there sucking his thumb. He reached out to her. She held his hand unthinkingly and he clambered onto her lap with a sigh.


    Elaine pulled out a jar of lotion and went to work slathering the child’s face.


    Brody said, “He was worried about you. Thought you were dead. I told him you weren’t, but he needed convincing.”


    Elaine sighed. “Thankee, Reeve. But I fear ye ran afoul of a con. Riven knows what meditatin’ looks like. Don’t ye, Riven?”


    Riven nodded solemnly.


    “Tell the Reeve why he needed to wake me up?”


    Riven took his thumb out of his mouth. “Dedicated Lane’s lotion’s better’n papa’s,” he said. “But he said I weren’t to diturb the medication. Didn’t say ye weren’t to.”


    “Dissssturb the mediTation,” Elaine corrected absently. “Medication is somethin’ I do in the privacy of my own home.”


    Brody sighed. “Riven, in the future, please don’t lie to me. You shouldn’t lie, but especially not to me. Or your dad.”


    Riven shrugged. “Otay.”


    Elaine finished rubbing lotion into the boy’s face. “There ye go. A well loved baby is a shiny one, and boy, you are the sun. Now shoo. Reeve’s got a question, I reckon.”


    Brody waited until Riven had wandered off across the field towards his house.


    Still watching the child, ever vigilant, he said, “So the weirden’s gone into the woods with her demon.”


    Elaine squinted up at him in the noon sun. “Is that right?”


    “It is.”


    Elaine said, “Alright. An''?”


    “Demon said something disconcerting.”


    "They do that."


    "Well..."


    “Well? Chew it yerself or spit it out so we can chew together, Reeve,” Elaine said testily, rolling up onto her feet.


    Brody asked, “What does it mean that the Warden’s inexperienced?”


    Elaine brushed off her skirt.


    Brody turned to her in a restrained burst of energy. “Dedicated, she’s gone into the woods with the banshee. Should I have let her go?”


    “It’s her first assignment,” Elaine said evenly. “Don’t mean she’s not well equipped for the task at hand. Aside from the fact she’s not well equipped cause someone’s playin’ games, but she’ll be fine.”


    Brody swore. “A murder and they’ve sent us a child.”


    Elaine glanced at him. “She’s not yer son. She’s better trained than ye were at her age, Reeve.”


    Brody glared. “Age holds its own wisdom.”


    Elaine started walking back to the town. “There’s naught ye can do, Brody. She’s a weirden, trained and true. Only ‘nother weird can judge her.”


    Brody called after her, “Then why can’t you?”


    Elaine cackled. “Not weird ‘nough! But definitely weirder’n ye. No offense.”


    “I take that as a compliment.”


    Elaine swung around to grin at him. “Oh, I surely wouldn’t.”