North bank, beneath the old willow
The Willow Inn
Warm windows, deep roots, and a guest book that has recorded generations of river travelers. Marlowe’s route often brings him here, though not every letter is addressed to a name.
A little town along a winding river
Follow the Silverbend from the old willow to the lighthouse and discover the places where letters arrive, boats come home, and mysteries begin.
A town best reached by riverWelcome ashore
Riverpost rests where the Silverbend makes a broad, gleaming turn through reeds, willow roots, and low wooded banks. It is not a large town. A determined mouse can cross much of it before noon, provided no unusual parcel, worried neighbor, or half-hidden clue delays him along the way.
The river is road, boundary, clock, and gathering place. Mailboats nose against the docks at dawn. Shopkeepers judge the weather by the color of the water. Wrenna Reed watches from above while Dockmaster Lutt listens to the pilings and knows the turn of the tide. Nothing in Riverpost is very far from the Silverbend, including its secrets.
Marlowe’s corner of the Silverbend
The numbers correspond to the field guide below. River distances have been shortened slightly for the convenience of small paws.
The Riverpost field guide
North bank, beneath the old willow
Warm windows, deep roots, and a guest book that has recorded generations of river travelers. Marlowe’s route often brings him here, though not every letter is addressed to a name.
At the meeting of the river paths
The beginning of every morning round. Letters are sorted, parcels are weighed, and Marlowe fastens his mailbag before setting out along the Silverbend.
On the sheltered inner bend
Dockmaster Lutt keeps the pilings sound, the lines tight, and a close eye on every arrival. Boats bring supplies, visitors, rumors, and now and then the first clue in a mystery.
Downriver from the docks
A long workshop scented with hemp, river air, and honest work. Hestle makes the ropes that hold Riverpost together and can tell at a glance whether a line frayed, snapped, or was cut.
Beside the lower village path
Shelves of useful things, a counter polished by years of paws, and news that travels nearly as quickly as the post. If Riverpost needs it, Barlow probably has it tucked away somewhere.
Across the eastern creek
Its boards creak, its roof keeps off the rain, and its shadow makes an excellent hiding place. The bridge shortens the walk to the outer bend, unless the creek is running high.
On the rocky outer bend
The lighthouse stands where the river widens and the current turns. Its lantern guides boats home through mist and darkness, which is why Riverpost notices immediately when the light goes out.

Walk Marlowe’s morning round
Marlowe begins at the post office while the mist is still low. His usual round carries him north to the Willow Inn, back through the village, and down to the docks, where a parcel may continue by mailboat. The ropewalk and Barlow’s store lie close enough for a friendly stop before the long path turns toward the covered bridge.
The Silverbend Light is the farthest delivery. By the time Marlowe reaches it, Riverpost has fully awakened behind him. Chimneys are smoking, boats are moving, and Wrenna has probably seen something worth mentioning.
Follow the Route in Book OneThere is always another bend