And, indeed, the meal was delicious, though wholly unfamiliar to Nolan. These were not spices normally found in an indigo kitchen; he wasn’t even sure the meat was something he could identify. And he was accustomed, on a blueskin table, to find a wide array of garnishes—plates of vegetables, fruit, bread, cheese—to supplement the main courses. But this appeared to be it. There was plenty of it, of course, and Nolan would not have complained even if there hadn’t been enough, but still, it was unusual.

Or at least different.

After the meal, the boys ran from the table, yelling and laughing and seeming to be a dozen boys instead of three. Pakt and the indigo men rose and left at a more leisurely pace, though Nolan glanced behind him once. Would Pakt’s wife now clear off the table and wash the dishes? Were there servants in the house that he simply had not noticed? Weren’t there more important things she could be doing? He didn’t believe Leesa had ever even handled a plate once it had been dirtied by food, let alone been responsible for cleaning it. He was certain his mother had not. He himself rarely ate in his own apartment because he so much hated the scrubbing that came afterward—but at least he knew how to do it.

The customs of the gulden were very strange.

Nolan followed Pakt and the others to a small, comfortable room gaily decorated with a marvelous assortment of colors and fabrics. A few of the pillows and wall hangings had deliberate, intricate patterns woven into them, and Nolan wondered if those were clan designations, or merely exuberant displays of color. He didn’t ask. He was feeling very much like an outsider here, welcomed or not, and he did not want to pose questions that would make him sound as ignorant as Wendt.

“Anybody for choisin?” Pakt asked, pulling out a game board and pieces. It was an elaborate game of strategy and aggression that the guldmen had brought with them from Gold Mountain. About ten years ago, it had become the rage among the indigo and the albinos as well, with the result that every year there were all-race tournaments played throughout the city. Ariana Bayless was said to be a master at the game, and Cerisa and Pakt sometimes played on their lunch hours. Nolan had heard that they were evenly matched, which made him think Pakt must be at the near-genuis level. He could not imagine Cerisa being anything less than ferociously good at any activity that involved competition.

“Sure, I’ll play,” said Sochin. Hiram murmured an assent.

“I doubt I’m quite up to your standard,” Nolan said to Pakt with a smile.

“We’ll play teams,” Pakt suggested. “Pair up the best and the worst.”

Sochin was laughing. “Then I’ll take Hiram and you take Nolan.”

“Just what I was about to suggest,” the guldman said.