She had thrown away the stalk of wheat that the Skin Within had let her have. She didn't know if it was poisoned in some way, but she didn't want to take her chances. This just meant that she hadn't eaten at all since she had arrived and now, having walked what must have been at least five miles, she was tired.
She decided there was no point in complaining, even if she was only complaining to herself, and set off again. And, to her utter surprise, she found that she was at her destination. There was the sign that stated in plain letters:
PORT OF SOMEWHERE ELSE
CALLS TO ADVENTURE, EXCITEMENT, DANGER
NO REFUSALS
And people. There were lots and lots of people around. Tall, short, fat, skinny, men and women and even some children. Daphne looked at the crowd, both excited and nervous, since it had been so long since she had even seen so many people.
Daphne wondered among the crowd for a little bit, trying to get her bearings. She didn't know where she should go - the pigeons had never agreed on whether she should go to the King of Trees or the Freemason of Forgetfulness and, in any case, she didn't know which ship was going where.
Finally, she saw something that she did know she needed: food. There was a stand that was selling food, what looked like fried seafood of some sort.
Daphne hungrily approached the stand. "Excuse me," she asked, careful to be polite, "how much would some food cost?"
The vendor operating the stand looked down at her. He looked to be middle-aged, with a rough weathered face. "A basketful is five memories, a cup is two," he said.
"Memories?" Daphne asked.
"And no memories of boring stuff," the vendor said. "We get enough trying to fool us like that, as if we would accept the memory of falling asleep or something like that. No, we're not asking for good memories, but it can't be incredibly dull."
"I'm sorry," Daphne said. "How am I supposed to trade my memories?"
"What, are you Doordropped?" the vendor asked. Daphne nodded and the man sighed, then pushed forward a book that was on the counter. "You write your memory in here. Just one line is fine for each."
"But why would you want them?" Daphne asked.
"The Freemason always has need for memories," the vendor said. "We trade them to him for passage, or else we would lose all our own memories. And that's never pleasant, waking up not knowing who you are. You have a hell of a time just figuring things out."
Daphne was at a loss. She was hungry and that fried shrimp looked delicious, but she couldn't think of any memories she wanted to part with. Finally, she opened the book and, beneath a line that said My ex-wife, she wrote: That time I got lost on the way home from the library.
And then it was gone. As she wrote it, she remembered it and then she couldn't remember it any more. She looked up at the vendor.
"Two for a cup," he said and gestured to the book again.
Daphne swallowed and then wrote: Getting the hiccups in class. And then it was gone, too.
The vendor took the book back and then passed on a cup full to the brim of fried seafood that smelled absolutely delicious. Daphne tried to savor each piece, but soon they were gone. She was slightly less hungry, but she felt a sort of emptiness in her head now, as if she was missing something, so she decided not to trade any more memories.
"Does water cost anything?" she asked the vendor.
"No," he said, "we're not that cruel." He began handing over a cup, when a large burly man arrived at the stand.
"Don't drink that, child," he said. "Stan here, well, he's been known to dowse his water with 'lixir water."
"That's a damn lie, Brown," the vendor said.
"Do you know what 'lixir water does to you, child?" the man called Brown asked. "It's said the Enchantress of All Tides makes it herself. It's what she makes her Tidewaiters drink. As soon as you drink it, you become obsessed with something, anything. Say, buying as many shrimp as you can eat."
The vendor looked angry now. "I would never do such a dirty trick," he said.
"But you would take memories from a young girl, would you?" Brown said. "She ain't more than ten."
"She didn't need them," the vendor said.
"You don't know what she needs," Brown said. "But I have the courtesy to ask. What do you need, child?"
Daphne liked the way Brown talked, so she said, "I need to find a way to Home Again. Some pigeons told me that either the King of Trees or the Freemason of Forgetfulness could help me."
"A favor from the Freemason would require giving up all your memories," Brown said. "Are you prepared to do that?"
Daphne could still feel something missing in her mind and it made her feel sick. "No," she said quietly.
"Then to the King of Trees," Brown said, "though I've not heard of him granting that many favors. Still, he is probably your best bet. And it just so happens that I have a ship heading in the direction of his land."
"What's the cost?" Daphne asked.
"No cost," Brown said. "I was Doordropped once. I know how it feels, finding yourself in the Storylands suddenly, confused and alone. I was lucky to find a ship and become captain of that ship. Oh, I've forgotten to introduce myself, haven't I?"
He stuck out his hand and Daphne shook it. "Captain Abel Brown, at your service."
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