Fable left the bell tower before the two men could climb it. She took her plain scale home and set it on the table. All night she tested it. She lied aloud, and the pan dipped a hair. But the dip was small and slow. The metal was too dull to hold more. She tried heating it, oiling it, wetting it. Nothing changed. The plain scale would never grow stronger. To forge the scale she dreamed of, she needed better stuff than common metal. She had heard one rumor. Deep below the hills sat a cave where stones held their own light. Those stones, people said, drank in strange forces and kept them. If any material could hold a lie's weight, it was that glowing stone. So she packed her scale and walked until the ground dropped into a hollow. Inside, pale blue crystals lit the walls. They glowed like cold lanterns. Fable pried one loose and set it in her scale's pan. Then she lied. "My name is not Fable." The pan plunged hard and fast, far past any dip the metal gave. The stone held the weight and trembled with light. She had found her material. But she was not alone. A huge shape blocked the cave mouth. It had a bull's bare skull for a head, long horns, and broad human hands white with flour. A miller who lived apart, feared by the villages that left him bread. He watched her with empty eye sockets. "Those stones are not yours to take," the miller said. His voice was low and even. "They are offerings. People give them to keep the dark things quiet." Fable's scale still held the glowing stone. She gripped it tight. "I only need one. For work that matters." "Everyone who comes here says that." He stepped closer. The ground shook under his boots. "Put it back." She looked at his hands, then at his skull face. She spoke slowly. "I can hear lies. Yours and mine both. You guard these stones. But you have never once stopped someone with force. You only ask." The miller went still. The scale in her hand did not dip. She had spoken true. "You eat alone," she said. "You want someone to believe your word without proof. I believe it. Let me take one stone, and I will come back and tell you what I build." For a long moment he said nothing. Then he stood aside. Fable climbed out with the glowing stone wrapped in cloth. Her scale now had a pan that could hold a lie's full weight. The dull metal was behind her. But as she reached the open air, she saw them below on the path. The fish seller and his two men, searching the hills. They had followed her from the market. And now they knew she carried something worth hunting.