“I must protest!” Dagorkun rumbled.

“Girls’ trip,” I told him. “No males.”

“I should come,” Cookie called from the orchard.

How in the world had he even heard us?

“Cookie, you’re a male.”

Cookie smiled into his whiskers. “A very quiet, very sneaky male that no one will notice.”

A speculative light appeared in Sean’s eyes.

“No,” I told him.

Karat emerged onto the balcony. She wore a long dark cloak that hung open in the front, giving a glimpse of a massive sword strapped to her thigh. She pulled the cloak closed and raised her hood. “Ready.”

* * *

Karat and I hurried through Baha-char’s crowded streets. We had about fifteen minutes left.

“Why Curved Street?” Karat grumbled. “Couldn’t she have picked somewhere closer?”

“You’ll see when we get there.”

We passed another alley, turned into the next one, and emerged onto Curved Street. It wasn’t so much a curve as a horseshoe, with narrow alleys branching off from both sides. Tall, terraced buildings rose everywhere, connected by breezeways, bridges, and colorful canvas shade sails. Shoppers clogged the alleys.

“I see,” Karat said. “It’s a warren.”

“Yes. Easy to run away and disappear.”

“If she runs, should I chase her?”

“No. We came here in good faith. She will say what she has to say, or she won’t.”

The glass stall sat in the middle of the U, visible from far away because of a tall mast that protruded from the entrance, rising above the street at an angle like an oversized fishing pole. Glass doohickeys, ornaments, wind chimes, prisms, and suspended vases in every color and shape hung from it, glittering and shining in the light.

We stopped directly under the mast. Shoppers moved past us in a steady current. Across the street, a group of short, hairy creatures that looked like a hybrid of a monkey and a donkey enthusiastically bargained with a tachi weapon shop owner, climbing onto each other to better screech in his face. The insectoid tachi was remarkably patient with their silliness.

“We’re being watched,” Karat said.

I felt it too, a focused gaze scrutinizing us with desperate intensity.

Moments dragged by.

A spot of light fell on Karat’s cloak and slid toward me. I raised my head.

The building that housed the weapons shop was shaped like a backward L. Its bottom floor was the widest. On the right side, the building rose three stories high. On the left, a large roof terrace stretched from its second story over the top of the remaining first floor. A narrow stone staircase squeezed between the left end of the terrace and the next building, the only access to the terrace from the street.

On that terrace, a lone figure wrapped in a shawl stood by the stone rail, holding a small mirror in her hand.

“We’re invited,” Karat said. “We passed inspection.”

“Seems so.”