Page 58 of The Robin on the Oak Throne

Graves nodded. “Yes. For Rizz. We were sent by Rio.”

She bounced the baby on her hip, sighed, and called into the shop. “Rizz! Rio sent you more charity.” She ushered them inside. “He can’t run a shop if his life depended on it. We have a new baby and still he would rather tinker with his clocks than sell the wares he has.”

“Congratulations!” Niamh said excitedly. “How adorable.”

“She’s not adorable when she’s shrieking at all hours of the night.Hismother says we should give her some liquor and put her back down. It explains so much about Rizz now, doesn’t it? Even in the market it’s frowned upon to let the baby drink. It’s not all about how it was done the generation before. You can’t even have anything in the crib with her.” She cooed down at her wailing child. “At least she’s cute.”

Niamh stepped up to the distressed mother, looking the baby over. “Oh, she’s a delight. You’re a wonderful mother. I bet you’re doing the best you can and someone is just fussy.”

The goblin woman beamed under the praise, and they headed over to a bassinet in the corner together to continue their conversation. Kierse and Graves exchanged an uncomfortable look. Kierse had never seen a baby survive on the streets—not when they stole childhoods from everyone.

A male goblin appeared then, wearing multi-lens glasses, with frazzled brown hair and large greenish lips. The resemblance to Rio was there if Kierse squinted just right.

“What’s this about?” Rizz asked.

Kierse stepped forward. “Rio sent us.”

He sighed. “What did my sibling get me into this time?”

“They said that you had what we were looking for.” Kierse offered him the paper.

The goblin glanced at it with a frown. “Sure. I have this. Memory potions are tricky things.”

“Payment!” his partner cried from the other side of the room.

“Yes, qin’ài de.” There was both affection and resignation in his voice. “Sorry—how were you planning to pay for this?”

“We’re here for fair value,” Graves said as he removed a handful of goblin marks from his pocket. They were dented bronze coins with a notch missing out of the middle.

His partner handed the baby to Niamh and hustled over. She took one of the marks and bit into it, then spoke swiftly to Rizz. He nodded along for a while, until his eyes bugged out of his head. Whatever he said back to her must have made her mad, because she stomped back to the baby, cursing him under her breath.

“My wife believes since the item is so rare, it would cost a quarter million, but I…”

“Done,” Graves said.

Rizz gaped at him. Kierse did the same. Sincewhendid Graves not negotiate and haggle for price? He sure had with her.

“I’d like to get this over with,” he added. But the glint in his eye said something else. She tilted her head and realized what it must mean…the potion was likely worth more than that amount. And what was a quarter million marks to someone like Graves?

“Well,” Rizz said, flustered. “All right. Let’s uh…get to business, then. Tell me about these memories. How were they lost?”

“A spell was put on me to make me forget.”

“Ah,” he said, crossing the room to a large cabinet filled to the brim with knickknacks. Kierse didn’t recognize a single thing inside that appeared to her to be of value. “So now they’re all jumbled up.”

“Yes.”

“You need a smoother to go with that.”

“A…smoother?”

“I don’t know the word in English,” he confessed. “But it will help put it in order, and then you’ll take the memory one after to make you remember.” He threw a few boxes aside and then selected a small plastic bottle, dropping it onto the counter. “Smoother.” He gestured to it. “Cheap.”

“Rizz!” his partner snapped.

Rizz went back to searching through his cabinet. “Memory is harder. Much harder. It’s tricky. I can’t guarantee you’ll get a specific memory back. Are you hoping for one in particular?”

“Well, I wanted something about my parents.”

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