From underneath her booth, she pulled out a small blue vial of serum.

“What is it?” Iltani squinted at it.

“Gochala.” The woman’s eyes glittered. “I’ve put down a dog or two with it. Works really well.”

My heart raced. Yes! A drop or two would cause a person to suffer from insufferable headaches for moons, but that whole bottle would be deadly. My father had once mixed an antidote for one of his friends who had tried taking a little to “make him feel funny.”

Sweat dripped down my forehead into my eyes, but I fought off the urge to wipe it away and ruin Nanaea’s face paint. I nodded eagerly to Iltani as I reached into my linen bag, feeling for the coins. Counting.

“How much for that one?” Iltani rasped, her baritone resonating clearly across the booth.

The woman smiled dangerously. “That depends. How badly do you need to put down your dog?”

Iltani eyeballed me, a deep frown on her face. Her beard slipped again and she coughed, covering her mouth with her hand, and pressed it back on.

The woman’s gaze went back and forth between me and Iltani, speculation heavy on her brow. She placed her fists on round hips. “One mina and twenty-five shekels. And then you’ll need to be on your way.”

I nodded. It was a decent price, and we needed to move. Now. The woman was suspicious of us. I held out the tinctures I wanted, along with some linens and a small spool of stitching thread, and set the payment on her booth. She wrapped everything up but the gochala, and gave me the parcel.

I jabbed Iltani with my elbow, nodding at the blue bottle.

“We paid for that one, too.” Iltani nodded gruffly at the tincture.

The woman smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. “You haven’t paid nearly enough. The tonics cost more than the measly amount you paid, and I need you to get out of my sight. I smell something off.”

Iltani looked at me, but my pockets were empty. I shook my head, alarmed, and she sighed, digging around in her bag, a coin purse hidden somewhere inside. As she moved, the folds of her linen cloak pressed against her, outlining her curves. The merchant studied her form, and looked down Nanaea’s body, which wasn’t nearly square enough to be a man’s. Nanaea dropped her gaze to her sandals, her thick eyelashes resting on soft cheeks.

Sweat poured down my forehead, no doubt smearing the face paint, and Iltani couldn’t locate the coins.

At long last, her hands shaking, she produced the coin purse, removed additional payment, and slapped it onto the table. But as she did, the woman slammed her hand down on Iltani’s and sneered. “You three are women! And up to something. You stink of it!”

Iltani snatched her hand away, and I grabbed her arm.

“Let’s go!” I hissed.

“May Selu reward you for your silence,” Iltani whispered, grabbing the tonic of gochala. Her beard was falling off the side of her face, bits of black bitumen clinging to her cheek, but the woman didn’t care a whit for Selu’s rewards.