As Mai bent to strap on her sandals, Priya rose. O’eki broke off his disquisition on the importance of a long and lustrous fiber to a carpet that would stand up to repeated wear.

Eliar grinned as he pushed away from the pillar. “Did my father talk you out of your reckless scheme, Mai?” he asked, as casual with her as if she were his sister.

Chief Tuvi gestured, and the soldiers fell into formation, two in the vanguard and two for the rear guard. “Mistress? What is your wish?”

She gathered her courage, let out a held breath. “Surely shopping must be the same in every town, even a foreign one. I am ready to go!”

THE MARKET STREETS in Olossi brimmed with ten times the wonders that even the twice-annual market fair in isolated Kartu Town could ever ever ever boast. Along one narrow street you could browse the stalls and shops of papermakers, with rice-paper lanterns, plain or painted fans, decorative paper for folding, and painted landscapes suitable for screens as well as ordinary white rice paper for windows and doors. An alley snaked between shops selling fabulous creatures carved from bone. She found mirrors backed with bronze lacework, braided cords to ornament jackets, and silk ribbons woven plain or patterned.

“You’re dickering,” said Eliar as they strolled down a rank of stalls that sold nothing but beads: wood, ceramic, stone, crystal, polished, unpolished, in so many colors she could not name them all. His silver bracelets jangled as he gestured toward the bustling shops. “But you’re not buying.”

“This is my first time out. I was fearful of venturing out, after the battle, with everything in disarray. Then your sister told me it was also the year-end festival with ghosts and such. So I thought it would be better to stay indoors. But now that’s over—” She laughed. “You can see it wouldn’t be wise to buy when I don’t really know how bargaining works here.”

“The same as any other place, I suppose.” Eliar heaved a sigh that ought to have shaken earth and sky together. “Not that my father and uncles will let me travel to other towns and see.”

“The roads aren’t safe. Didn’t a man from your house get killed on the road to Horn last year?”

“Yes. But they wouldn’t even let me ride out with the militia during the battle. All I was allowed to do was fight the fire in the lower city after the army had already run!”

Mai shuddered, remembering the way buildings and tents and living creatures had burned and burned and burned. “People died fighting those fires.”

“So they did. I shouldn’t make light of it.”

A girl scuttled up to the pair of soldiers standing rear guard. Ducking her head shyly, she held out a wooden platter of sweet rice dumplings. “My papa asks you take these as a gift, for fighting for the city. The Silver isn’t permitted any.”

Eliar’s frown deepened.

“That’s rude!” muttered Mai.