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“I have no interest in the sin-boats,” I told him. “I might be willing to see the market.”

“Oh, you won’t regret it! It’s one of the five wonders of Rovileis. I’ll even buy you something. I’m sure there’s nothing like it on Nis-Illous. Don’t eat any more, they sell everything there. Have you ever had cheese-stuffed prawns? I couldn’t find a place that sold them around here.”

“How do you know there’s nothing like it on Nis-Illous? ”

“Well, because if there were, somebody would have written about it, and I would have read it.” He pushed his stool back and drained his drink, then looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “Unless it’s a secret, and nobody outside of your island knows?”

“If we’re doing this,” I told him, ignoring the ridiculous question, “you’re walking me back afterwards.”

“It’s a little far. I hadn’t meant to come back this way,” he plucked at his full bottom lip with a frown. “Are you staying here, or some such?”

“Of course I’m staying here. You bought me the room,” I said. “Did you already forget?”

“Really?” He laughed. “I thought it was just the food!”

“That much? For soup…?”

“Well, never mind. We can find a place to stay closer to the market, I’m sure. I’ll get you another room.”

Goods. Goods from the outlands. And a chance to find something that helped explain the Ward.

“Fine,” I agreed.

He grinned, then turned and walked straight towards the door without even asking for a refund on the room.

“Excuse me?” I leaned over the counter and caught the attention of the woman. “I won’t be needing the room. We’ll take the change, please.”

With a heavy sigh she fished nine argit out from a box behind the counter and dropped them into my waiting hand. I thanked her, drained my wine, and trotted after Oraik.

Chapter 13

I thought I’d be less of a target, walking through the city with a tall broad-shouldered man. But as Oraik cheerfully sauntered down the hill, I felt even more eyes on us than before. It was dark out, but unlike the pitch-black night in villages like Missaniech, lanterns on tall, hooked posts lined the broad street.

“You might want to take off your jewelry,” I told Oraik quietly.

“Why?” He held up a hand in front of him, fingers splayed. Each had a gold ring; one finger had two. “I thought rings were supposed to be in fashion?”

“I wouldn’t know, but that fellow we just passed looked a little too interested.”

He glanced over his shoulder, then huffed.

“Rovileis is considered a very safe city,” Oraik informed me. “It has less crime than Myrken or Olymrei. Last year murders were at an all-time low.”

“Glad to hear it. Friendly reminder that I was robbed earlier today?”

“Oh. That’s right. So it wasn’t just an act?”

“What? Of course not,” I snapped. There was silence for a moment as I thought. “Wait. If you thought I was a swindler, why give me money? Why invite me along?”

“I was tired of being alone,” he complained. “I thought it would make for an exciting night.”

He glanced over his shoulder again, looking suddenly unsettled and jumpy. I looked, too, but saw nothing. Oraik twisted off his rings and jammed them into his trouser pockets. He plucked the cuffs off his ear, leaving just two golden hoops that looked like full piercings.

“Guess we can’t do anything about the shirt,” I said. His gold-thread embroidery shimmered.

“I thought it looked nice,” he said softly, and tugged the hem out to look down at himself. “And is it really necessary to dress like a beggar? No offense.”

“None taken,” I muttered, curling my fingers anxiously into my favorite shield-hold.