Kit laughed. “Well, in a sense they were. Most of them were built over the course of a century or so. Even now, if a clan keeps expanding, new levels will be built above the old ones—or sometimes new additions will be built onto the back. A man likes to have a large, complex home. It shows that his family has many branches—that he and his menfolk have been virile—and that he is able to care well for all those who are his responsibility.”

“Gulden houses aren’t this big in the city.”

Kit closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the seat. “No, they aren’t. Just one of the many things lost to the city dwellers.”

“What else?” Nolan asked, but she pretended to be asleep and did not answer.

*   *   *

At Klevert Station, there was another hourlong layover. They took the opportunity to buy more food, for they were both getting tired of train fare. Kit bought some magazines; Nolan browsed at the newsstand, pretending he could read the headlines. A pretty gulden girl walked in, saw him, and seemed to leap backward a pace, though in reality her feet did not move. Then she stepped forward again and bestowed a charming smile on him. When she addressed him in a quick, interrogative sentence, he spread his hands and shook his head.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know your language,” he said in bluetongue very slowly, as if by emphasizing each word, he could make her understand it. She repeated her question, disappointment clear on her face. “I’m sorry,” he said again. The girl pouted, turned away, smiled at him again over her shoulder, and ambled from the shop.

Kit was at Nolan’s side in seconds. Nolan turned to her with a bemused expression. “If I didn’t know better,” he said, “I’d say I’d just been flirted with.”

“Oh, you were.” She was laughing. “Take it as a compliment. It means she thinks you have money. Of course, almost any blueskin who comes this far into Geldricht does have money, but the tikitiras won’t approach just anybody, you know. They have their standards.”

“Tikitiras? Let me guess. In the city they’re called gilt girls.”

“Not exactly the same,” she said. But before she could explain, the bell sounded, alerting them that it was time to board their train. They headed for the gate at a half-run, and it took them another fifteen minutes to dispose themselves comfortably in their seats and arrange all their new purchases.

“So,” Nolan said finally. “The gilt girls. Or whatever.”