“Where are you going?” demanded the elder of the young women.

Magic lifted his crest and opened his mouth to show teeth, a mild warning. Bai’s smile sharpened, just like the ginny’s. “We’re going away from the place we came from. Where are you going?”

“Our village was burned down. We’ll take your help. I’m called Nallo. These are my children: Avisha, Jerad, and Zianna.”

“We’ll take your help with thanks,” said the pretty one, Avisha, as she flashed a hesitant smile.

“Can I touch them?” asked the boy.

Mischief tilted her head and gave the boy a keen and almost flirtatious look. There was no accounting for the taste of those animals.

“These two are Magic and Mischief, and yes, if you move slowly, and follow my directions, you can greet them. I’m Zubaidit. This is my brother Keshad. Kesh, get the boat in and load it. Put our gear in as well. The horses will do better without the burden.”

“Those can’t be your children,” said Kesh to the elder girl. “You’re far too young.”

“I’m the second wife. Their mother’s dead three years past. Died bearing Zianna, or how else do you suppose the poor little girl got such a name?”

She was the kind who bit first!

“Where’s your husband, then?” he retorted.

As soon as he uttered the words, he felt shame. Avisha looked at the ground, a spasm of grief twisting her expression. The cursed ginnies eyed him, as if saying Kesh, you stupid idiot! Change the subject, already!

The boy said, “I want to touch the holy ones!”

“Keep your mouth shut!” snapped Nallo. She flicked a glance at Bai and then, oddly, flushed. “Here, now, Jer,” she added in a voice meant to be kindlier but which only sounded curt, “just get in the boat.”

Cursing the wasted time and his own stupid mouth and the pointless bother of stopping to assist useless refugees who were no doubt doomed despite whatever help they might receive, Kesh untied the others’ gear and settled it in the skiff. Their possessions seemed to consist of an impressive coil of heavy-duty rope and a single large bronze washtub carefully packed with scraps and oddments: cloth tied around a scant tey of rice; a few scraggly bundles of herbs; a stand for making cord; a pot of sesame oil; an iron knife with a charred wood handle; an iron cooking pot; and two whole leather bottles grimy with ash. He peeked inside a singed leather case to find, within, a dozen untouched first-quality silk braids, colorful work suitable for fancy cloaks, festival jackets, or temple banners.

In they all must go. The little girl woke and cried, then subsided. The boy trembled with excitement. Bai peeled the ginny lizards off her shoulders, introduced them to the boy, and draped them over the mound of gear. They chirped, and Jerad, in imitation, chirped back. Zianna scooted to the bow of the boat as far away from the ginnies as possible; she sucked on her thumb, her gaze troubled.