Fie let the teeth go. Wretch took in their coats of muck and covered a snort, but the lordlings had other concerns.

“They just took most of your money,” Tavin said, angry. “I can’t—we’ll—I’ll report them once we reach the fortress—”

Pa waved a hand and reached into his robe. “Fret you not, lad. Aye, they took most of the coin I had”—he drew a long, slim leather pouch from behind his back—“in that purse. Tell them you only have ten naka, and eight is what they’ll take.”

“They shouldn’t take anything at all,” Jasimir said. “I won’t forget.”

The other Crows traded looks. All Pa said was “Let’s get you to your cousin first.”

Tavin nodded to the city’s higher tiers. “There’s a Markahn in Second Market waiting to hear from me. He’ll pass the signal to the Floating Fortress once we find him, and then Governor Kuvimir will light the plague beacon.”

“Second Market? Good luck.” Swain pointed at the plaster wall over the wagon, marked with soot-darkened curls and slashes. Easy to mistake for the work of a lazy vandal, but the two crossed black thumbprints made a sign Fie would know anywhere.

The lordlings looked baffled. Fie tapped the thumbprints. “This is a Crow mark. And this”—she waved at the wall—“is a map. Here.” She indicated a square capped by a curve on the eastern side of the city. “That’s the Crow shrine. And these”—she traced a series of spikes—“are the markets. Second Market is…” Fie counted the patches of market in each ring and pursed her lips at what she saw. “… bad. Bad for Crows.”

“We’ve got ‘No one sells to Crows.’” Swain ticked off his fingers, reading down the symbols by the market. “Let’s see … both ‘hostile guard’ and ‘bribe the guard,’ so be open to a fair number of options there … And ‘no masks.’”

“I’ll deal with the guards,” Tavin said. “But why no masks?”

Fie sighed. “Draws notice. Just keep your hood up instead.”

“Fie…” Pa started.

“Aye, Pa.” Fie unstrapped her own mask from where it hung around her neck and tossed it into the wagon. She should have known her work was far from over. “I’ll bring the boys back to the shrine after.”

“I’ll go with,” Hangdog said, abrupt. Pa started and stared at him. “At least to Fourth Market. Buy the flashburn and the soap-shells.”

Pa traded a look with Fie. She gave a tiny shrug. She’d already be reckoning with a prince and his fussy pet Hawk. If Hangdog wanted to fuss, too, at least one of them would be useful about it.

The string of naka clinked as Pa slid coins free and passed them over. “Here. Be safe. I’ll see you four at the shrine.”

“The sign says water-lifts are that way.”