I had never traveled before, and as I walked along a dirt road with no shoes and the same dress from five days ago, I thought of never traveling again. I reached into my dress pocket and once more took out the letter from my grandfather. His untidy lettering sent a wave of calm over me. It may be dark, and I may be alone on an abandoned street, but at least I'm heading to a place where someone is ready to take me in. More importantly, I'm heading away from a horrible life that was almost forced upon me.

Refolding the letter, I quickened my pace. Two days of walking and three carriage rides later, I was less than a mile from my new home. My father had had a huge fight with my grandfather eight years ago, when I was nine. I had not been able to see him since, and that was to whom I was headed. I pictured his face when I would show up on his doorstep, dirt in my hair and stains on my best dress, for once with my own adventure to tell him, instead of the other way around.

His newest place of residence seemed to be a coastal town and, judging by the landscape around me, secluded in walls of hills that seemed to get larger as I continued down the lane.

There was a small part of me that did miss my family back home, but whether I had stayed there or not, my days with them were numbered. The shock of what had happened had now worn off, but the sadness I still had to fight to keep down.

The moon was full and lighted my way clearly; the moon had come in handy these last two nights of walking. I wouldn't do any good to sprain an ankle when you had no food or water, and carriages only came this way once in a while.

Finally, I could see the lights approaching. They beckoned me, welcomed me, and even though my feet were tired and I hadn't had a decent meal in days, I ran toward the town, enjoying the way the air felt as it rushed by me. Reaching the outermost buildings, I pulled out the letter again, this time reading the address he had scribbled down in the bottom right-hand corner.

Streetlights illuminating my way, I walked down the road, taking in the sights as they passed. For the first time in my life I smelt the salt. There is nothing like the smell of the ocean to someone who has never experienced it. Coming to the end of the cobblestone road, it extended into a dirt path. Walking downhill I stopped in surprise when I finally saw it.

Waves crashed against high stone cliffs and a tall lighthouse flared out warning to passing and incoming ships. I caught my breath at the beauty of the moon reflecting on the water. I ran to the fence and leaned over it, feeling water drops being carried up hit my face. Maybe traveling wasn't so bad if this was what you got to see.

"You should be careful around the edge there, miss," a voice sounded behind me. I turned quickly in surprise and saw a young man about my age, stopped in mid step at the top of the hill. He was supporting what looked like a very heavy wooden crate.

"Oh, don't worry, I'll be fine," I smiled.

His face stayed shocked as I grinned at him... what on earth was he staring at?

"Are you all right?" he asked, taking a hesitant step forward as though I were some bird that would take flight as soon as he got too close.

"Of course, I'm fine, I'm just..." I then remembered I had not looked in a mirror since I left. I must have looked as if I was half-crazy. I knew what my dress looked like, torn and caked with dirt. I didn't want to even image how my hair looked. The grinning probably wasn't helping the matter either. "I've been traveling a long time, it's nice to take a break at such a beautiful place."

He still looked at me oddly; he ran his hair through his brown mop of curls. "No offense, miss, but you look half-crazy." I knew it.

Well, I'm almost to where I'm headed; I don't look like this once I clean up. I promise I won't attack you." That was probably the wrong thing to say.

The boy gave a sort of chuckle before coming slightly closer. "The least I can do is escort you the rest of the way." To me it sounded as if he was doing it purely because he's had it been drilled into him since he was a boy that women should be escorted everywhere.

"That's fine but I can make it the rest of the way by myself, you can get on to where you were going." I took out the letter once more and looked at the address.

"Where are you headed exactly? There are no inns this far out of town."

Maybe this guy actually was worried about me that's nice of him.

"According to this there is one called 'The Coast Saloon'?"

The guy looked at me weirder still. "Are you sure that's where you want to go?"

"Yes" I trailed off. "Is there something wrong with it?"

"Well," he stopped and looked at me. "It's not exactly a place where a miss like you would want to go."

"Oh, it's okay, my grandfather owns it! I'm heading there to stay with him."

"All right, miss, I'm headed there as well. It's probably best I just go with you." He still looked uneasy.

"Thank you," I tried to give a genuine, not crazy, smile. "And you don't have to call me miss, my name is Madalyn." I walked toward the road and started down it, going slow so he could catch up with me.

"Well, Madalyn, my name is Nicholas," he said.

"Why are you headed there anyway?" I suddenly found myself doubting the morals of this guy if he was heading to a place 'where a miss like you wouldn't want to go.'

"I'm an apprentice glass maker, I'm delivering a new order of pitchers to, I guess, your grandfather." I concluded his morals were fine so far.

"That must be fascinating, making glass. I've never seen it done before."

"It's quite the process, I'll show you sometime, if you like." He smiled shyly. Finally, he didn't seem to be scared of me anymore.

"That'd be really nice." Quickly, we came upon a three-story building. A thatched roof angled down over log walls. Lights shown inside and outside the saloon, I smiled thinking I'd finally be able to see my grandfather. Unable to keep up the walking pace, I ran for the door.

"Wait! Madalyn!" Nicholas yelled, but he was unable to catch up with me because of his heavy load. I came to a stop outside the door.

"Right, not a good place for a 'miss like me'? I asked. As I said this I heard a distinct crash followed by a yell from inside.

"Exactly, we should probably go around back." He led the way around the side of the building, me keeping close behind him. I had never been anywhere quite like this before.

We came to center of the back wall where there was a locked door. Nicholas took out an old skeleton key and stuck it into the lock, turning it with a satisfying click. He stepped in first then held the door for me. I smiled in thanks.

The room was pitch black as the door shut behind us. I heard Nicholas fumbling around in his pocket, finally taking out matches. He lit a candle that was standing on a shelf near the door.

I had never seen so much beer in my life. Barrels upon barrels were stacked on top of each other, each with a marking of what lay inside it. The room was rectangular with a small hallway leading off to the right. The door we had just come through stood next to the hallway. Nicholas set down his crate in the far-left corner of the room then walked back to me.

"We're going to have to go through the bar to get to your grandfather's office. Watch out for flying objects." Even though he was serious it looked as though he could not help the smile on his face.

"Flying what?"

"Glasses, chairs... people."

"You'd think my grandfather would lose money with everything being thrown around." I said, raising my eyebrows.

"Yeah, well, the price he sells the beer for makes up for that." As he opened the door I was greeted with a rush of sounds. It was hard to get a good look at the room because it was so jammed with people. We had emerged behind the counter and Nicholas was quickly pulling me by the hand toward a staircase heading up.

I took in as much as I could as I looked around. From what I could tell there were dozens of round tables filling up the large room. Candles sat securely in wrought iron candelabras above each table. A woman of in her mid-twenties stood behind the bar, taking orders from the customers.

"You might not want to go upstairs right now," she said without turning around. "The old man's having some trouble with the numbers."

"I've got someone he needs to see right now," Nicholas answered. The woman turned quickly and caught sight of me.

"I see," she said, raising one eyebrow. I smiled meekly at her as Nicholas dragged me the rest of the way up the stairs.

"That was not as bad as I thought it was going to be," I said. He merely shrugged and knocked twice on the door at the top of the stairs before opening it.

"It's me, Mr. Rogers," he said, closing the door behind him, shutting out much of the noise below.

"You brought me the pitchers, right boy?" His voice had the same scratchiness to it that I remembered, and I couldn't help but smile.

"Yes, and something else," he said. I saw Grandfather stiffen and turn around. I knew I looked like a mess and eight years older, but he saw something familiar.

"Is that my Maddie?" he asked, a huge grin crossing his face. Even though he was seventy years old he sprang out of his chair as though he was twenty. He came over and gave me a hug. "I'd ask you how your trip was, but judging by the state of you," he held me out at arm's length, "I think you'll need to clean up first."

"I am in need of that," I said. Though I wanted to tell him what happened, a bath and some fresh clothes sounded a bit more appealing.

"Nicholas," he said, "where did you pick her up?"

"Down by the lighthouse."

"Thank you for escorting her in here. If you like you can stay for some dinner."

"Sure, I also want to hear her story, if that's all right with her."

"Oh yes," I said. I think he had as much right to know as anyone, coming across me like that.

Grandpa then ushered me through an adjoining door into what looked like his bedroom.

"Now right through there is a spare room, you can stay there for as long as you like. I'll have Nancy send you up so hot water and fresh clothes."

Nancy turned out to be a lovely old lady who helped clean the inn. Finally showered, changed, and combed, I emerged feeling one hundred-percent better.

Coming out into the hallway I met Nicholas once more.

"Oh good," he said, "we're closing up trying to get the last stragglers out. You can follow me, they should be done by now."

Following him down the stairs and coming out behind the bar I saw a completely different site. The saloon was completely empty except for the barmaid from earlier. She was wiping down the tables with an old rag while putting up chairs. I walked toward her.

"Can I help at all?" I asked.

She looked surprised to see me. "That'd be great. Can you just check for anyone passed out in the hall on the way to their rooms?"

"Okay," I said. She pointed me toward a door opposite the entrance. I walked toward it and pushed it open, only to emerge on a scene that was quickly becoming bloody.