I looked over at him. It happened by itself, thoughtlessly. We made eye contact, and I could feel it: shame and fear and a hot, visceral anger. I’d read him before when he’d been upset, but I’d never picked up anything like that from him. I sat up a little taller. My eyebrows shot up of their own accord, a hundred questions leapt to my tongue, and then I grew protective. Tentatively, very slowly, I reached out and tapped Abira’s arm. “I’m a quarter Athenorkos,” I said. I spoke Lothic, but Coastal Lothic. It’s a flat language with none of the colloquial flair of City Lothic. I have never particularly liked speaking it. “My mother’s mother was Athenorkos. My mother’s father was a cartographer with a caravan. He met her in Susselfen and brought her to the Empire.”

She turned to me, surprised that I’d spoken. “Yeah? I know a fella back in the City whose folks were like that. Must’ve been a grand romance, them. Can’t imagine coming here to all these rules you lot lay down for yourselves were it not grand.”

Dirva leaned against the counter with his eyes closed. I felt that he was grateful, but I couldn’t have told you why I got that impression. I don’t think it had to do with the gifts. I think I just knew him well by then, and sometimes, when you know someone well enough, you can tell how they feel without magic. I pushed on. “I don’t know. My mother’s father was killed before I was born. She didn’t talk about him much. But she did say she’d take the constraints of the silver over the war in the South.”

Abira nodded and ran a hand through her hair. “Well, hell. No arguing with that. My pa ran from that war. Always seemed a smart move to me. Hey, want to split a pipe?”

She was not talking about tobacco. “Oh. No, thank you.”

“Gah, just silver through and through, green eyes or not, eh? Hey, Lor, smoke with me for old times’ sake, yeah?”

“No, Abbie.”

Abira sighed and leaned back in her chair, craning her neck to look at him. She was a small person, but she was the kind to take up as much space as possible. “Why not? Long trip. Could stand to take the edge off. And you should loosen up.”

“It’s illegal here.”

“I know.”

“You could have been thrown in jail.”

“I wasn’t though, was I? Be a shame to take all that risk and not savor it. Would make sense to smoke it all up here before I risk crossing the border with it in tow a second time, eh?”

“There is a child in the house; it’s irresponsible,” Dirva said.