Jillian just stared at Bertha. Her mouth seemed to have stopped working. How could she possibly explain what was going on?

After a couple moments of silence, Bertha stormed off to start cleaning the pulverised tavern. Jillian came out of the closet and began helping her. The woman grumbled curses as she inspected the broken tables and chairs.

Jillian felt terrible. "I'm sorry about the tavern," she said awkwardly, breaking the silence.

"Well that fixes everything." Bertha said sarcastically, kicking aside a chair with a busted leg.

"Really, its all my fault," she continued. "If I hadn't been such a coward and faced them, this wouldn't have happened." Jillian kept rambling. "Someone could have gotten hurt because pirates are masters with weapons and-"

The broken glasses the woman was holding fell with a crash, spraying more glass across the room. "Pirates?!" Bertha yelled. "Why is a wench like you messing around with pirates?"

Jillian internaly kicked herself for letting that slip. "Its not what you think! They didn't kidnap me or anything so don't turn them in!"

"Oh, so they're wanted pirates now," the barmaid snapped. "That makes this so much better, huh?" She whirled around, pointing a finger at her. "They better not come back, you hear? I don't want any trouble with pirates."

"How am I supposed to keep them away?" Jillian asked, almost desperately.

"Leave," Bertha said simply, leaving to head upstairs.

Why was everybody wanting her to go? "I can't leave! Where will I go?" She followed Bertha in a panic.

"That's for you to figure out, dollface. I'll give you til tomorrow evening. Now finish cleaning." Bertha slammed her door shut.

Jillian worried about it all night. The nest morning rolled around and she still didn't have a plan. She had grown almost comfortable at The Dusty Panpipe and the thought of being alone again made her stomach churn. But Bertha was right. Robinson and the others would return to look for her. Whether they actually wanted to turn her in or not, she didn't know, but Jillian still didn't want to see them after what they did.

Or did she? They had been her first real friends (after Kit) and Jillian wanted to believe they cared about her. But she was still angry and hurt.

She was so distracted with her battling thoughts, she spilled a customer's drink all over his lap. With a shout of surprise, the young man lept to his feet as his companions howled with laughter. "I'm so sorry!" Jillian cried, her face buring with embarrassment. "Let me help clean that up," she said when the man began wiping his trousers with his cloak. She handed him a rag.

"Thank you, miss," the man said, smiling at her. She gave a flustered grin in return and went to refill his mug. His friends snickered. They were an interesting bunch. The seven men always wore dark green cloaks as if they were a part of some club. The only that that was different about the man she spilled a drink on was that he wore a floppy, green hat over his black, curly hair.

Jillian would miss the intersting people like them that came to the Panpipe. She almost wanted to tell them goodbye but that would be too weird. The men in the green cloaks were standing up to leave when she returned with the mug. "Thanks, I'll take this to go," the man with the hat said, swinging his now damp cloak over his shoulders. He grabbed the mug and handed her a coin. When he turned to leave a flash of silver caught her eye.

A silver flute stuck out of the man's pocket. Jillian watched it vanish under the folds of his cloak as the men trouped out the door. Now the hat made sense. He was a musician! She realized that the hat was similar to others she had seen. But Jillian was confused. Why didn't the man play his flute? All the other traveling musicans did when they came through.

But he wasn't a traveling musican. He and his buddies came around nearly every week! The longer Jillian thought about it, the flute player's face was oddly familiar. She had thought that when she had first seen them but brushed it off at the time. With a sigh, she returned to the counter and began wiping it down.

She stared absently across the room, where WANTED posters were tacked to the wall. She read the names: Goldilocks, Little Tailor, Rumplestilskin, Robin Hood-wait.

Jillian peered at the poster. Robin Hood's drawing had him in a green cloak. Setting down her rag, she went to read closer. "Wanted dead or alive, by the Sheriff of Nottingham", she read. "Known accomplices are the Merry Men, including Little John and the Pied Piper." She gasped.

Now she remembered where she had seen his face. On a WANTED poster back in Grimm! The man was the Pied Piper, one of the Merry Men! Her mind was swimming with this overload of information.

The Pied Piper had taken all the kids from Brooks. It dawned on Jillian that he knew where they were, including her brother!

She stared at the door where the men had just gone through. Could she catch up? Jillian ran up to her room on the second floor and began stuffing supplies in a knapsack. Bertha came thundering in. "What are you doing? There are costumers to serve!"

"I have to leave!" Jillian said, grabbing a cloak. She paused at the silence. Bertha was just standing there with the strangest expression on her face. Was it...sorrow? She took a deep breath. "Bertha, I-."

"Save it," the barmaid said, holding up her hand. "I don't do the mushy stuff." She cleared her throat and glared at Jillian. "So are you leaving or not, dollface?"

Jillian felt a strange urge to cry and throw her arms around Bertha. Instead, she smiled and ran down the stairs and out of the tavern. Looking back at the Panpipe, she thought she saw a figure watching her from one on the upstairs windows. She waved and then followed the trail into the woods.