“But then I’d betray the terms of your invitation. This way trim protects me. Not that I expect you to believe in that protection.” They smiled up at Baru, a middle-aged laman of little height but warm forceful presence, like a candle-flame still burning cheerfully in the cold. They had deep black skin, short kinky hair, a fine delicate jaw under the classical high brow. Against that skin they had set a golden khanga wrapped tight down to the waist, then loose like a skirt around wide hips. The embroidered hem of the khanga read, in Aphalone, Compassion is the surest wind if we only raise our sails. Golden chains bound their nose to their earlobes, and their throat glistened with green stars and golden lines of paint. Baru thought they were impossibly beautiful.

“I am Tau-indi Bosoka,” they said, “Federal Prince of Lonjaro Mbo.”

For once Baru had no money metaphor to deploy. The Prince Tau-indi looked priceless, unbuyable, unbendable, a person beyond market.

“Here, this is for you!” The Prince offered Baru a case of inlaid wood. Inside Baru found a gorgeous magnetic compass, the needle mounted on a clever device of steel and exotic rubber: she gasped in delight. Tau turned to Xe. “And for you, miss, I think a pearl will do.”

Xe murmured thanks. “Now,” Tau-indi Bosoka said, apparently satisfied that this gift-giving had secured them against eavesdroppers or assassins, “let’s walk and speak, if you don’t mind doing both slowly. Am I mistaken, miss, that you come from Aurdwynn? You have the Maia look.”

“No,” Baru said, “I’m from—”

But of course Tau-indi had been speaking to Xe.

“Yes,” Xe said, “my great-family is from the north.”

“The north. Very far from the sea! But your, ah, your general figure and your way of walking, do I presume too much to think you may be a diver?”

Xe nodded. “I am.”

“And you did harbor work, perhaps? In Treatymont or Welthony?”

“I did.” Baru was by now quite impressed with this Prince’s incision. They had come to the same conclusions as Baru.

“Wonderful. I’m looking for a friend who went missing in Aurdwynn during the civil war. Do you know,” Tau-indi’s voice fell as low as the wind, “a man named Abdumasi Abd? A merchant with shipping interests?”

“I do,” Xe said, “I know that name.”

“You do?” Tau-indi Bosoka stopped, whirled, and threw out their hands like a beggar. “Oh, bless you, bless you. I can’t say how much this means to me. Abd is my dear friend and I’ve been searching for him for months. Can you tell me—anything at all?”