A single horse-drawn carriage awaited them, and the officer apologized profusely for forcing her to sit in a jail-carriage. The interior was damp and cold, with mouldy wooden floors and hard wooden seats, but Farryn did not complain. She could see outside through the tiny barred windows, and as the officer drove she was glad that she was no longer on that ship, at least.

They reached the station quickly, and she was left on her own in a small office in the back of the building. She could hear screams from somewhere, and the clanking of metal, but she sat patiently until she heard the sound she wanted to hear; the sound of sweeping outside the door.

Farryn opened the door easily; they would never dare lock her in- and saw a maid, dressed in a habit with stripes, to mark her as a commercial maid- sweeping the floors of the police station. "Get me a cup of water, would you?" she called to her. The girl was startled, and dropped the broom. "Ah, madam-" "Goodness, hurry it up, I'm quite parched. My, how furious father will be when he learns how these fools have made me wait."
The maid gulped and nodded, abandoning her duty to go and find Farryn's water. She slipped back into the room, and dumped her sleeve puffers on the chair, thankful that no one could search her and take her money. She then peeled off the unconscionably loud shoes and dumped them too, before hurrying out of the room in just her stockings.

Sure enough, this station was designed just like the one back home, and she found the room she was looking for just where she expected it. She slipped in and coughed because of the must. It was pitch dark. She should have brought a candle, but no matter.

Feeling her way around, she pulled down what she could see was a Maid's dress from the sliver of light seeping in from underneath the door. She pulled off Serval's clothes and the other ones she had stolen, tucking them away in the corner, and wore the uniform carefully, adjusting all of her hair under the plain bonnet and tying the apron tight around her waist. It was much more comfortable, though the fabric was notably scratchier, and she had slipped on a pair of shoes just as the door creaked open.

A young girl nodded at her, retreating to the back of the room to change. Farryn took the opportunity to leave, squeezing out through the door and into the halls of the station, eyes trained on the ground. No one paid her any mind, and she walked right out into the cold of the early morning.

As she strolled through the waking town, reading every sign and keeping careful watch of the people around her- she reminded herself of her goal. She would find her, they would be reunited. That was the only important thing left for her to do. The only thing that had kept her from throwing herself into Serval's fireplace all these years.

And so she walked, and walked, and walked, and her legs ached by the time the 3rd hour had rolled around. But she finally spotted her destination. She pushed open the heavy doors to the building, and she stepped in.

The smell of sickness and smoke was strong in the cramped 'lobby' area, but Farryn approached the counter, where a woman sat, knitting, her hat cast to the side.

"Good morning Marm," she said, curtsying. The woman looked her up and down. "Is this Lazarus Workhouse?"

"Are you an idiot? The woman snapped. "Pardon me, Marm. I cannot read." the woman sniffed, looking at Farryn as though she were offals. "Yes. What do you want?"

"I am looking for a certain Liviana. Liv, or perhaps Annie." the woman's only response was a blank stare. "Perhaps you could help me find her?" she pressed, leaning slightly over the counter.

"Unless you want to become one of our workers, you had better get out." she snapped. "I haven't any time to waste looking for anyone." "That is quite fine. I could go in myself and search, if you don't mind?" "If you go in then you won't be leaving." her eyes were cold and they narrowed as she stared at Farryn. "And if you don't stop bothering me I will have our Constable called down this instant."

Farryn backed away. "My apologies then, Marm," she muttered, using every muscle in her body to not reach across the counter and strangle the obstinate woman. "Thank you kindly."

She had turned to leave when the heavy doors beside the desk opened revealing a tall, heavily frowning woman hauling a meagre suitcase. Beside her stood a girl, fair-skinned and tiny, her cheeks hollow but eyes bright. The girl gestured at Farryn, unbeknownst to the woman walking her out of the building, talking in a low and stern voice.

Farryn followed them out the doors, peeking at the pair discreetly. The woman stood with the girl for a while, and then an open-roofed carriage pulled down the street, an equally grim man driving it. He wore interesting livery; probably employed by some nobility. The woman turned without even looking to see if the girl made it safely onto the carriage, and returned to the workhouse.

Farryn jumped up from her seat on the stairs, and hurried to the girl who was throwing her few possessions into the carriage. "You're looking for Livvy?" she asked. Farryn nodded intently. "She isn't in the workhouse anymore. Got hired as a maid last year." "She was hired? By who? Where?" "Somewhere down in Tuckson's." the driver cleared his throat impatiently, and Farryn drew closer to the carriage, clutching the edges. "But that's so far." 'They like hiring from Berkerly's 'cause we're cheap." she turned away from Farryn. "I'm sorry, I don't know who hired her. You just sounded real worried."

The driver had obviously had enough of the chatter and spurred his horse. As the carriage started Farryn ran alongside it. "Thank you kindly!" she cried, and the girl nodded and smiled, waving. Farryn couldn't help but wonder if wherever he was going would be better than the workhouse. She truly hoped so.

She stood there, as the people and businesses slowly started their day. Tuckson. That was at least a 2 week journey by boat, and over a month by road. Her hands shook and she forced herself to breathe. The plan was the same. It would just take a little longer.

She found herself wandering, going through the small Berkerly's market and bought herself more bread and a hard roll of cheese. She nibbled at both until she found herself in front of the Berkerly's news-press.

Farryn stepped in, and she put her purchases in the deep pocket of her apron before she nodded at the man behind the counter. "My apologies, sir, but I was wondering if I could see some archives?" he looked her over, but decided against expressing his suspicion and nodded. "And what do you wish to see?" "Employment advertisements from Tuckson's, sir."

The man rang a bell on his desk and turned back to the stack of papers before him, and almost immediately a young paper boy appeared through a door. "Show her to the Advertisements Archives." the man instructed, and the boy nodded, hurrying back through the doors without even a word to Farryn.

She followed him until they reached an incredibly large hall, lit by an impressive skylight and lanterns. Farryn remembered that Berkerly's had been one of the Queen's 'pet towns'. She had loved the cuisine, meaning it had many commodities other market towns would not. Like an organized Archive system.

The boy led her to a shelf in the back; stocked full of parchments and tightly bound books, little wooden pallets indicating the first letter of each. "Thank you," she said to him, and he scurried away, leaving her with the other people who were in the room. They all kept to themselves, most dressed in scholar's garb, probably from the University a ways away. Farryn kept to herself too.

She found 'T' and looked for Tuckson's. The book was there, binding loose and falling apart. She hurried over to a low desk under the skylight and started reading, not skipping a single page. Looking for a Seamstress' assistant. Fourteen years ago. Searching for a maid-of-all-work, No workhouses. Ten years ago. The newspaper that Farryn kept close to her heart was dated 5 years ago, so it couldn't possibly be her. She kept reading.

Eventually, when she was nearing the back of the book she found a few that might be the match. A Marquis looking for several maids, the advertisement dated a year ago. When the girl had said Liviana had disappeared. Or another, a Viscount looking for just one maid, sturdy and healthy, a little over one year ago as well. In total, she found 5 adverts that might match, 2 from the same estate, dated 3 months apart. She used the loose parchment and ink on the table to scrawl the addresses on her arm, as well as the Lord our Lady's name and their title, and then shoved the book back into the shelf, hurrying out of the Archive room.

She hurried to the market, remembering the man with the donkey cart who had been advertising travel to the train station 2 days away. Were there any stations in Tuckson? That didn't matter. She approached him where he sat, drinking a bowl of watery soup.

He rose, noticing the intent in her eyes, and leered. "Good morning Missy! Looking to get to the Station? That will be 8 passes." "Your sign says 5, you gibface." she snapped. The man appeared stunned, but the woman with a stall set up beside him laughed. He chuckled too, but Farryn could tell she had embarrassed him. Good.

"Nevertheless I will pay you 8 if you can get me there before nightfall." the man's eyes lit up, but he rubbed his weak jaw, contemplating. "I can't possibly waste a whole journey on such a small thing as yourself, though." he muttered. "What?" Farryn demanded. "You will have to share your room with millet and wheat."

"Fine." she huffed. The man smiled, nodding. "Meet me by the West Creek in an hour. I shan't wait." Farryn didn't comment that there would be no need for him to leave if she didn't show up. She just nodded.

Her stomach grumbled, but she decided against buying any more things in the market. Instead, she entered a tavern, already full even though it was barely afternoon. It smelled of barley and other cheap spirits, and the tavern itself was musty, with winding stairs in the back that probably led to a few rooms.

A large man served behind the counter, alongside a smaller woman who must have been his wife. He spoke loudly with the men while the woman smiled at Farryn. "Hello dear. What would you like today?"

Farryn got herself a bowl of soup and some meat, and ate it quietly in the corner of the tavern, ignoring the other leering patrons. She wiped the bowl clean with the bread she had bought, and then waved down the tavern owner, who came and collected the bowls.

"Thank you." she muttered, paying 2 extra passes. The woman nodded and Farryn left, hurrying to find whatever creek she was supposed to meet the driver at.

It took about fifteen minutes of walking for her to get there. The man was already there, loading the back of the simple cart with sacks of wheat and barely, and what seemed to be hay, if the smell accounted for anything. "I'm going to need half my pay now." he said when he saw her coming, and Farryn handed it over. She was much too tired to protest. "Wake me once we reach." she said to him, climbing into the cart and burying herself among the sacks.

Farryn dreamt. She dreamt of a small, blonde girl, with chubby fingers and a freckled nose, lying in her mother's lap. Her mother mended one of her daughter's many dresses.

"Mother." the girl said, looking up from her mother's lap. The mother looked at her in turn, smiling. "Yes?" "When will you be back?" the smile on the mother's face did not fade. She continued smiling, eyes growing watery and faded, misty. The dark-haired child in the corner reached for the blonde girl, but she vanished before her eyes.

"Where did she go?" she asked the girl's mother. She was still smiling, unseeing. She reached for her too, but the woman also vanished, leaving the dress she had been mending, now in tatters, and the needle, rusted and bent out of shape.