The gentleman walked toward the church with his wife on his arm. Isaac shook the reins, ready to leave.
"Hello."
A young woman's voice stopped him, and Isaac looked over.
It was a woman dressed in a black nun's habit, her face concealed behind a golden mask.
This was the usual attire of the Church of the Golden Bough's clergy. The masks concealed their faces, symbolizing how they set aside their personal identities before others and acted as Vicania's attendants.
When the nun saw him look over, she bowed slightly. "Hello. Are you taking passengers?"
"No, I'm not a cabman. I just happened to be passing through." Isaac shook his head.
"I see. I saw that couple just now and thought..." The nun paused. "Sorry, I misunderstood. Still, would you mind giving me a ride?"
Again? Is the dog-drawn carriage really that appealing?
Isaac was about to refuse again when the nun pulled out a purse, took a coin from it, and held it out to him.
It was a one-pound gold coin, equivalent to twenty shillings, or 240 pence.
Isaac stared. He had earned one shilling and five pence from the couple and had already considered it a nice windfall, yet this nun was offering him a whole pound.
"Sorry for the trouble," the nun said.
Isaac was silent for a moment. Then he took the gold coin and slipped it into his pocket. "Please, get in."
The nun opened the door and climbed into the carriage. Isaac first had Fenri leave the square. After they had traveled some distance, he turned and opened the small window. "You haven't told me where you're going."
"Just go wherever you were originally headed."
Isaac paused but said nothing. He had Fenri continue toward the scrapyard.
No more sounds came from the carriage. The nun really did seem to be nothing more than a passenger heading in the same direction.
After the dog-drawn carriage passed another intersection and Isaac confirmed there were no other pedestrians around, he spoke. "Sister, you came for me, didn't you?"
A very soft chuckle came from behind him. "Why do you think so?"
"The couple earlier gave me one shilling for the fare. That was still within the bounds of generosity, but a pound isn't normal no matter how you look at it." Isaac paused. "Besides, you don't seem to have intended to hide that you're not an ordinary passenger."
"Good observation. Even though you and Professor Lessing aren't related by blood, you're very much alike."
Isaac turned and looked through the small window at the nun inside the carriage.
"There's no need to be nervous." The nun inclined her head slightly. "I only wanted to have a chat with you and confirm a few things while I was at it."
"Confirm what?"
"That you really are Professor Lessing's adopted son."
"You knew my father?"
"Our paths crossed a few times. We weren't close, but it was enough for me to remember him."
"...Who are you?"
"You may call me Vilka," the nun said.
Vilka... the big shot Fenn mentioned?
"You wanted my father's books," Isaac said.
"Yes." Vilka readily admitted it. "But that fellow got to them before I did."
That fellow meant Carlo, didn't it? Isaac still hadn't fully understood what made those books valuable enough for a big shot to send people to plan a major heist over them.
"Those books weren't safe in your hands. In that fellow's hands... I suppose they're reasonably secure."
Vilka showed no intention of explaining further. Isaac waited a moment, then could only ask, "You spent a pound to ride in my carriage and seek me out just to say that?"
"A pound is nothing to me. Consider it a gift for our first meeting," Vilka said. "I mainly wanted to see you. I've confirmed that you arrived safely in Vista, and that you're much as I imagined."
Isaac's mouth twitched. He wasn't quite sure what there was to see.
"All right, I've taken up enough of your time. You can drop me off at the next intersection."
Isaac shook the reins and stopped the carriage at the intersection ahead.
Vilka opened the door, stepped out of the carriage, and stood beside it. She glanced back at Isaac. "Give Schuster my regards."
"I will." Isaac nodded.
Vilka looked at Fenri in front of the carriage. "Is this your dog?"
"Yes." Isaac offered no further explanation.
Vilka took a few steps closer. Fenri's legs tensed, his ears flattened back, and a low growl rumbled from his throat as his body arched slightly.
Isaac had never seen Fenri like this before. After Carlo had subdued him with a single punch, Fenri hadn't even dared bare his teeth, but now he had adopted an unmistakably threatening posture.
Vilka stopped without coming any closer and watched Fenri, who made no further move either.
The two seemed to be at a standoff. Isaac looked at Fenri, then at Vilka, not understanding what was going on.
After a moment, Vilka spoke. "Beings from the Wilderness, Vicania will not refuse your visits, but while you are in Vista, please show respect to the master of this land."
Fenri's ears twitched. Vilka turned to Isaac. "You must be careful when dealing with beings from the Wilderness. The exiles of the Wilderness are always eager to return to the present world, and their methods of returning are often less than gentle."
With that, Vilka inclined her head slightly and turned to leave, gradually blending into the crowd at the street corner.
Isaac watched her disappear around the corner, then looked away and glanced at Fenri.
Fenri's guarded posture just now had made him realize that he still knew far too little about his new companion.
As for the Wilderness, however, Carlo didn't seem inclined to explain, and Fenri probably wouldn't say much himself-when he had first appeared, he had at least announced himself with "I am," but now he didn't even speak. As for Vilka, Isaac decided to be cautious and not seek her out immediately; he would at least find out more about her first.
For now, he could only set the matter aside.
"Come on. Let's take care of what we came to do first."
Fenri pulled the carriage onward. The buildings around them gradually changed from rows of houses to low factories and warehouses. The walls were mottled, and more potholes appeared in the streets.
They arrived at the scrapyard, an open lot enclosed by a corrugated iron fence. Inside, all manner of discarded objects were piled in layers: rusty iron frames, broken wooden crates, scrapped carriage frames, and mechanical parts Isaac couldn't name.
A somewhat older man came out of a shed with a pipe in his mouth. He froze when he saw the dog pulling the carriage, and the pipe slipped from his lips. He scrambled to catch it.
Isaac jumped down from the carriage. "I'm looking to sell this carriage. Will you take it?"
The man walked around the carriage, knocked on its side, crouched to examine the axle, then stood and rocked the cabin. It gave an ominous creak.
He blew out a puff of smoke and shook his head. "This thing's practically falling apart. It'd be a pain even to strip it for parts. Ten shillings, and not a penny more."