“Hey, you,” she called as she passed the fruit stand that sprang up every summer. The bags in her arms were heavy, but apples were light and her red traveling cloak had pockets. “Seen Grey anywhere?” Grey was the only one she called by name, but he was as memorable as Granny, in his own way. The stall owner’s practiced smile broke into a relieved look. “Oh, you’re already on it! That’s good to hear.” Red narrowed her eyes. “Of course I’m on it. I’m halfway done my training, you know. What did he look like? Where did he go?”