Despite the fact that I had little choice in the matter, I had qualms about taking the job, chief among them that Sorcha was left to his own devices while the rest of us were out. It didn’t matter how many times I told him the Empire was not like the City. It was a thing, clearly, he had to learn on his own, but I didn’t want him to have to learn it. I listened to the merchants with disinterest. My mind drifted often to Sorcha—to what he might be doing, where he might be doing it, who he might be doing it with. Sometimes I wondered about Shayat, but that was a placid and docile thing, where the thoughts of Sorcha were terrible and anxious. I must have seen him die a dozen different ways every day. I knew him well enough to know he would not sit patiently waiting in the house for the rest of us to return. And I was right to worry.

I returned home after work to find a yellow notice taped to the front door. My heart dropped from across the street. I didn’t need to read it to know what it said, but I read it anyway. The note stated he’d been arrested for indecency and lewd acts, that he was being held at the 23rd precinct house, and that bail was set at two hundred fifty marks. According to the time stamp on the notice, he’d been in there for seven hours, which meant he must have been arrested not long after I left for work.

I had, to my name, thirty-seven marks. Dirva was not home, and I had no idea where he kept his money. The lack of good options and a wide margin of desperation drove me to Parvi’s shop. He opened the front door with a tape measure slung around his neck and a length of linen draped over on arm. He smiled when he saw me. “Ariah! Shayat said you were in town. Come in!”

“Is she here? I need to ask a favor of her.”

“Yes, she’s here. Come in,” he said. He yelled her name at the stairs. “You look well, Ariah.” He thumbed the edge of my vest, which he had sewn for me years ago. “I’m glad to see my work has held up.”

I stared anxiously at the stairs, willing her to come down. Parvi asked me if I was all right. “I…yes, I am. A friend is in bad straits.”

“Shayat!” Parvi yelled again. “She’ll come down. Come by again when your friend is in better straits, yes?”

“I will, Parvi. I promise.” He clapped me on the shoulder and left me in the hall.