She shut a compact mirror. We were in Terrin’s shop, the two of us reflected everywhere in the mirrors surrounding us like facets of an enormous, hollow jewel. I saw Sid’s dissatisfaction.

“What is it?” I said. “What are you looking for?”

She tugged me gently in the direction of the door and the streets outside the shop. I saw her hand on mine from all the angles of all the mirrors as she drew me toward the door. Terrin’s eyes widened at such an unexpected, even shocking, gesture between someone of Sid’s kith and someone of mine. I wondered what my face showed as my fingers tightened around Sid’s hand, the one with the long scar.

“Everything is just … normal,” she said when we’d left the cool of the shop. A wind had picked up, but it was so hot it felt like the breath of a dog. “There are mirrors like that compact beyond the wall, but one half shows yourself and the other shows how you want to look. If you stare at that half long enough, your face will change to match what you see, at least for an hour or so. But there is nothing unusual about Terrin’s mirrors, or any other goods in the Ward. The objects are inert. Dead. If there is magic, it isn’t here.”

Something dwindled inside me. “Does that mean you’ll leave?”

But she didn’t answer, because a man called my name. She dropped my hand.

It was Aden, striding toward us.

26

“NIRRIM, I NEED YOU,” he said.

“Need?” Sid’s mouth curled.

“Excuse us,” he told her, just barely polite, with an expression that betrayed frustration that he needed to be polite with her. “Nirrim, now.”

Sid’s face showed disbelief but also a knowing look that I didn’t understand and didn’t like. “Just a moment,” I told her, and pulled Aden across the street.

“What is wrong with you?” I demanded.

“With me? What are you doing with her?”

“I’m working.”

“You’re prancing around the Ward like you’re that lady’s pet.” His blue eyes were bright with disgust. “Everyone’s been talking.”

“It’s a job. I’m her escort.”

“I don’t care how she’s dressed. She’s not High. She’s not even Herrath. A traveler, they say. Maybe so, maybe there are other countries across the sea, but if she is from one of them all that means is that she can tell whatever lies she likes and her countrymen aren’t here to prove her wrong.”

“She paid,” I said. “In gold coins.”

“So what? People fake their kith all the time. You know that. You help them do that. Gold coins and a fancy dress and a fancy attitude don’t mean anything.”

“Why are you so angry? This has nothing to do with you.”

“I don’t like how she looks.”