A group of travelers was talking near the bar. One of them was holding a small, crumpled piece of parchment. It looked like a map.
"The trip to the capital takes three weeks," the traveler said. "If we take the stone road, it's safer, but the toll is fifty grey chips per person. We'll have to stick to the forest edge."
Leon did the math in his head. If a sack of grain was three grey chips, and the tanner offered them five, that hide was worth almost nothing. But a forest wolf was a dangerous beast. The tanner was definitely trying to swindle them because they looked desperate.
"We need a different plan," Leon said quietly. "We can't sell to the tanners. They'll just see two muddies. We need someone who needs the fur specifically. Maybe a hunter or a traveling merchant who hasn't been in town long enough to become greedy."
"Or," Bai said, his eyes brightening. "We look for a job. Look at that board by the door."
Leon looked. There was a wooden board covered in various scraps of paper. Most were hand-written in that same strange script he could somehow read. One caught his eye.
WANTED: Porter for the Northern Trade Route. Must be able to carry 50lbs. Payment: 2 grey chips per day plus meals.
"Two chips a day," Leon muttered. "The tanner offered us five for the whole hide. That's only two and a half days of manual labor. That hide is worth way more than five."
"Exactly," Bai said. "Knowledge is power, Leon. Even if we don't have magic."
They sat in the tavern for another hour. They watched how people paid for things. A bowl of thick stew cost two copper chips. A mug of ale was one copper. Ten coppers seemed to equal one grey chip.
'So five grey chips is fifty coppers,' Leon thought. 'That's twenty-five meals. It's not terrible, but it's not enough for new clothes and a map.'
"Let's go back out," Leon said. "I saw a general store near the gate. If they sell maps, we can see the price tag. Then we'll know exactly how much we need."
They left the tavern. The cool air of the street felt good after the smoky room. They walked back toward the gate. The general store was a larger building with big glass windows. Inside, it was quiet and clean. An old woman sat behind a counter. She was reading a book that seemed to have moving pictures on the pages.
Leon walked to a shelf in the back. He found a scroll labeled Provincial Map. He turned it over. There was a small tag tied to the string.
Price: 15 Grey Chips.
Leon felt a bit sick. Fifteen. They had a wolf hide that a man tried to buy for five. They were ten chips short just for a map. That didn't even count the clothes or a place to sleep.
"We're going to have to haggle like our lives depend on it," Bai whispered. He was looking at a pair of sturdy leather boots that cost eight chips.
"No," Leon said. His voice was firm. "We're not going to haggle with the tanner. We're going to find a tailor. Someone who makes the actual clothes. If we give them the raw material, maybe they'll trade us the finished product for the leftover fur."
"That's a smart move," Bai said. "Cut out the middleman."
They spent the rest of the afternoon searching the Muddy district. They finally found a small tailor shop. It was run by a young man with three arms. The third arm was smaller, growing from his side, and it was busy threading a needle while the other two held a piece of fabric. He didn't look disgusted when they walked in.
"Is that a forest wolf?" the tailor asked. He put down his work.
"It is," Leon said. "We want two sets of sturdy traveling clothes. In exchange, you keep the rest of the hide. The fur is high quality. You could make a dozen collars out of the leftovers."
The tailor walked over. He inspected the hide with all three hands. He ran his fingers through the charcoal fur. "The skin is a bit dry. But the fur is excellent. It has a natural resistance to frost. Very rare for this time of year."
The tailor looked at Leon, then at Bai. He seemed to be weighing the deal.
"I can do it," the tailor said. "But the clothes won't be fancy. Just linen and reinforced leather. And it will take me until tomorrow morning."
"That's fine," Leon said. "But we need one more thing. Do you have a place we can sleep? Just a corner of the workshop?"
The tailor laughed. It was a friendly sound. "You muddies are persistent. Fine. You can sleep in the loft. But if you touch the silk, I'll throw you out myself."
"Deal," Leon said.
They handed over the hide. For the first time in days, Leon didn't have to carry a weapon or a heavy weight. They climbed up a rickety ladder to a small loft filled with the scent of clean fabric. It was the safest they had felt since the car went over the cliff.
"We did it, Leon," Bai said, stretching out on a pile of scrap cloth. "We have clothes coming. We have a roof. We're actually doing it!"
"We're surviving," Leon corrected. He looked out a small circular window at the town. The sun was setting, and the silver tiles of the roofs were starting to glow with a soft light. "But tomorrow, we need to figure out how to get those fifteen chips for the map. And then, we find out where the others went."
Bai was already nodding off. Leon sat by the window for a long time. He watched the guards changing shifts at the gate. He watched a group of students in white robes walk by, their bodies radiating a faint, golden aura. He felt a deep, quiet hunger. Not for food, but for the power they had.