Written in Red by Anne Bishop

the simple lock was augmented by a heavy-duty dead bolt that required a key—which might or might not be on the key ring she’d left in the sorting room.
    Caw caw
    Three black birds were perched outside on a flat piece of wood, maneuvering to get a better look through one of the windows. She almost dismissed their presence, then wondered if they were
terra indigene
Crows that had come to take a look at the new Liaison.
    Trying for a happy smile, Meg waggled her fingers and mouthed the words
Good morning
. Then she went back to the counter and tried to boost herself up enough to swing her legs over.
    The Walking Names didn’t tell the girls anything about themselves, but she had overheard some things. She was twenty-four years old. She was sixty-three inches tall. She had black hair, gray eyes, and fair skin. Her cheeks had a light rosy hue that would show scars to advantage, but her face was still unmarred by the razor. The girls in the compound were kept healthy and were walked daily, but they were not allowed to do things that would give them unnecessary stamina or make them physically strong.
    Sometimes determination could make up for stamina and strength. But sometimes it couldn’t.
    The fourth time she landed back on the wrong side of the counter, a voice quietly said, “While this is highly entertaining, why don’t you just use the go-through?”
    Meg backed away from the counter as a lean man stepped through the Private
doorway. He had light brown eyes and brown hair that was made up of a variety of shades, including gray.
    “Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Name’s Jester. Henry thought you could use a little help figuring out what to do, and since Simon’s chewing his own tail this morning, and I look after the ponies, I was elected to help.” He held up both hands. “No tricks. I promise.” Then he gave her a smile that was both friendly and sly. “At least, not today.”
    “I have to get the door open before the deliveries start arriving,” she said, wishing she didn’t sound so anxious. “The keys I was given are on that ring in the sorting room, but I’m not even sure there’s a key on it for this door.”
    “There isn’t,” Jester replied, disappearing into the sorting room. “You have a key to the back door,” he continued when he walked into the front room and vaulted over the counter. “I’ll show you where the office keys are kept.”
    He unlocked the dead bolt, studied the Crows for a moment, then grinned as he walked back to the counter. “You’ve been on the job for less than an hour and you’re already the most entertaining Liaison we’ve had.”
    “Thanks,” she said, trying not to sound sour. She could imagine what Simon Wolfgard would say if he heard about this. “You won’t tell anyone about the counter, will you?”
    “Me? No. Them?” Jester tipped his head toward the windows. There were Crows vying for a spot on the wooden sculpture, and a couple were standing in front of the door, looking in. “Most of the Courtyard will hear about this within an hour.”
    She sighed.
    “Come on. I’ll show you the trick with the go-through.” He pointed to the slide bolt that connected the go-through with the long counter.
    “I tried that,” she said.
    “That one keeps it closed during the day when you might be going in and out a lot.” He reached under the wide top. A moment later, Meg heard a bolt drawing back, then another. “There are two bigger slide bolts that keep the go-through closed the rest of the time. Those are locked when you leave the office for a meal break or at the end of the day.”
    Jester pushed the go-through open, then stood aside to let her enter. He followed her in, closed the go-through, and used the visible slide bolt to secure it. After showing her where the other bolts were located, he pointed out the supplies and other items that were on the shelves under the counter.
    A clipboard with a pad of paper. A round ceramic