Lirssa sat with chin in hands, elbows on skirt covered knees, and feet fidgeting this way then that on the step. Past the door to the brownstone behind her, Fitzhugh, Arabella, Jasper, Annie, and the rest of the household going about their business. Well, Arabella might not exactly being going about her business, but the rest of them sure were. Just as the people that walked the streets went about theirs. Only she felt the absolute oddness of being still in that continuous flow of purpose in front and behind her.

Locke was going to send a ring, a ring she'd have to find out how to make work, but what happened earlier that morning was going to have more immediate consequences. Then again, with Arabella unlikely to give it all a go again so soon, she probably had a few days reprieve from having to finagle her way out of being used to hunt down Elliott, or really anyone or anything.

That certainly brightened her disposition. There was the tiniest twinge of guilt that she was glad for someone else's suffering, but really, Arabella did deserve it in a way. Feeling much better about the prospect of the days ahead, she started to smile, uncurled herself and lay more stretched out — and distinctly less lady like — across the steps. Brightened green eyes regained their impish glint as she watched the passersby going to and fro. Some smiled back and others obviously wondered just what the cheeky grinning girl was up to, for no one smiled like that who did not have a plot or a plan going about their heads.

It was not long before Lirssa had just that going on in her head. Tomorrow would be a lesson with Mister Jolly, but outside of that maybe there would be swimming in the glen pools, or performances in Market Square. She could go sneaking about the old tourney grounds and see if any of the old group still hung about.

That made her think of Sir Michael with a girlish sighing giggle. She had such a fascination, and one might say she fancied him, when she was little. She wondered where he was, if he had married, or even lived. And as most thoughts of the past do, that lead to thinking of those who had not lived that she knew. Skinny Legs Marie, Bubber, her parents - well, as far as she knew.

She had never really thought about her parents much, and for that instant she wondered why she had not and why she was now. They were just vague absolutes. She had to have had them, but there was nothing really connected with them except - absence. It was like a tiny firefly, and if she went to try and collect it, would stop lighting or flit out of her reach.

No, her memories start with Bubber and the training to do her acrobatic tricks, language and arts learned at the feet of performers along the festival road, at Market Fairs, and tourneys. Being claimed, if temporarily, by a family of the Sarengraves had been the closest she had gotten to a family as considered by fairy tales and stories. As all fairy tales, it had to come to an end. She did her best to see that didn't happen to other street kids, but now she was stuck in this promise and really could not do what she had promised herself to do.

Well, that was that in her mind. She had to do something to get out of this, and if finding Elliott was the thing to do —-. But could she" Could she help hunt him down and return him to the hands of Fitzhugh"

The cloudy gloom curled up a storm in her thoughts again and her body matched it, setting chin to hands once more. She could really run away this time. Hurting fosters would do them no good if she really was no longer around. She could help street kids in another place. Maybe sneak aboard a ship or hire herself out to a caravan of performers.

Should Lirssa: A) Hang it all, get back to her life, and help hand over Elliott to Fitzhugh? B) Keep trying to thwart Fitzhugh's attempts to find Elliott C) Set sail D) Hire out to a caravan of traveling performers