When we neared Rabatha, I asked Dirva for a pencil. I wrote to my parents that I was safe, that I had been assigned to teach at the college, and that I loved them. I thanked them for pairing me with Dirva. I told them nothing about the City, and I told them nothing about the border. I told them I’d learned my lesson, and when I wrote it, I certainly believed it was true, but it turned out to be an unintentional lie. We arrived in Rabatha, spat out of the train into the heart of the Qin district. The station was crawling with police. Dirva took pains to embed the pair of us deep in the heart of the herd of elves rushing through the station. All of us walked with our heads down, but it was no use: the police spotted us anyway. Dirva’s black hair and my odd clothing drew attention no matter how we tried to hide from it. A policeman whistled. We kept moving. “You there, you in City clothes, come here.”

Dirva kept a hand on my arm and kept going.

The policeman whistled again. “We’ve got two nahsiyya here,” he called out. Enforcement men broke through the wary elves. We were shoved to the side, our hands were bound, and we were taken into a room for questioning. One policeman looked through our papers, while another pawed through Dirva’s things. “Where’s your luggage?” he asked me.

“At the border,” I said. Dirva shot me a warning look, which I pretended not to notice.

“They took everything but your papers?”

“Yes,” I said. “And they tried to take those, too.”

The policemen traded rough laughs. “What were you trying to bring in? Had to have been something for all of it to be confiscated.”

“Probably drugs,” said the one flipping through our papers.

I was about to answer that I’d tried to bring in some dignity, but Dirva spoke first. “Spices,” he said. “Ariah was traveling with spices, and the guards felt they were best allocated to those who protect the Exalted’s borders. Ariah relinquished them willingly; they were not confiscated. May I ask why we’ve been detained?”

“Well, this one’s papers say he has the gift. Maybe he can read us and tell you,” said one of the policemen.

“As you can see from my papers, I work in the foreign office. There are those expecting my return. Further detainment will lead to questions,” Dirva said. He smiled. “I ask only to help you prepare to answer those questions.”

The policemen stared at him for a long moment. The one with our papers showed the other something in Dirva’s documents. “We’ll have an eye on you, nahsiyya,” said one as he unlocked the manacles. “Tinkers strange as the pair of you warrant watching.”