Alanbane Darkmoon pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside the stone shop. He needed rope, oil, and dry rations for the next blank stretch of his map — the woods past the ridge where no ranger had walked out. The shopkeeper looked up, then looked past him. The shelves were full. The counter was empty between them. "Nothing for you today," the man said. He would not say who had asked him to refuse. Alanbane stood there a moment, then nodded once and stepped back into the daylight. Word had moved faster than he had. Someone in town did not want him outfitted, and every shutter along the row felt closed before he reached it. He shifted his empty pack on his shoulder and started walking. If the front counters would not sell to him, he would have to find who was speaking against him — or find another way into the trees.