“We will need a list of your requirements,” Nisha said. “Written instructions for the transport of your goods to Hanjian, and another for the ship that will take them to your home.”

Rosethorn reached into a pocket in her habit and brought out folded papers. There had been plenty of time that morning, while waiting for the imperials to search for Parahan, to write everything out. “I will have the instructions for the ship’s captain later this afternoon,” she said, handing the papers over.

Rajoni looked her over. “You will need magic on your face,” she said frankly. “Briar and Evvy are fine for this country, but you stand out.”

“I could go veiled,” Rosethorn suggested.

“Our mimander can place a spell that is hard for other mages to detect,” Nisha replied. “We’ve had to use it before. It will last a week, and those who look on you will believe you come from their country.”

Rosethorn frowned. “I thought mimanders could only deal in one kind of magic.”

Rajoni shrugged. “You are able to work a spell from another mage if it is complete and needs but a word from you, yes? It is the same here.”

Rosethorn grimaced. “I understand. There is another thing.”

The women raised their brows in the same expression. Up until that moment Rosethorn would have said Rajoni resembled her father, the gilav. She did her best not to smile, because now it was clear the daughter was her mother’s child as well. Rosethorn took a sip of tea and opened another fold of her bundle. There lay some of the emperor’s farewell gift, ten pieces of gold, each the length and width of Rosethorn’s hand and twice the thickness of her cup.

“I need a map of the country between Kushi and the end of the Snow Serpent Pass in Gyongxe,” she said quietly. “And I need a map of Gyongxe. I will copy yours or Briar will, but we need them.”

Nisha looked at Rosethorn, then at Rajoni. Trader maps were sacred documents, kept secret among Traders. Rosethorn saw refusal in the women’s eyes.

She opened the last fold. The mage back in Laenpa had traded Evvy three Kombanpur diamonds for a handful of stones that Evvy had prepared for magical use. In turn, Evvy had spent one month of her spare time that winter doing nothing else but thinking about those stones when she was not carrying them in her pockets, bathing with them, and even sleeping with them. The next month she had turned one of the diamonds into ten shards, which one of the local stone merchants happily traded for two small diamonds. The month after that, with further thought, she had tried to shape a large diamond again, carefully running her power down chosen fissures in the gem. The result lay on the cloth before them: a clean, many-surfaced stone like a jewel-cut ruby, sapphire, or emerald, with a brilliant white fire. The cuts and stone were uneven, but Rosethorn could tell that made no difference whatever to the other women. She reached for it, saying, “I do understand the maps are —”

Nisha beat her to the diamond. “We will copy the maps. You will have them by the time we stop for the night. Be assured, they will be correct in all the ways you will require.”

Rajoni reached for a small basket nearby and placed the gifts in that. “It is true, then? The emperor means to wage war on Gyongxe?”

Rosethorn said nothing.

Nisha was turning the diamond over in her palm. She looked up when Rosethorn did not reply. Seeing that Rosethorn hesitated, she pointed to the unlit lamp that hung over the table. “What is said under the lamp is repeated only to those who are trusted,” she assured Rosethorn.

Rosethorn nodded. “He is going to invade through Inxia.”

The Traders exchanged looks. “We were supposed to cross roads with Third Caravan Gerzi fifty miles north of Dohan,” Rajoni said, her voice just above a whisper. “But only two of their people came by stealth to warn us. Imperial troops took the caravan. They now hold everyone but the two who escaped. Very slowly our people are leaving Yanjing. Our imperial treaty states clearly that we are permitted to trade without harm. Either this emperor thinks we do not know our own treaties, or he believes we fear him too much to punish him by refusing to trade.”

Rosethorn felt a chill run down her spine. “I pray you will escape Yanjing before he sees that is what you are doing,” she replied. “It will go badly with your people if he realizes you are fleeing altogether.”

Rajoni made a V of two fingers and stabbed them at the floor. That was the way Traders signaled spitting when they were unwilling to soil their carpets.

“Even though you are not one of ours, your prayers are welcome,” Nisha said. “Now, let us begin to make your arrangements. And do not worry that the other travelers will tell any imperial soldiers about those who left us unexpectedly in Kushi. We will make sure that they understand it is against their best interest to speak of it.”

Rosethorn thanked them for the meal, and for the excellent bout of trading. Tying her wide straw hat to her head, she walked back to her wagon and her two unruly students. There was much to be done yet, even if the Traders had taken on the burden of copying the maps. Briar and Evvy had better have gotten their packing under way while she was gone, Rosethorn thought. She was still unhappy that they had been so impossible about continuing on to Emelan. She knew what Moonstream and her fellow dedicates back home would say when they learned she had dragged a child Evvy’s age into a war.

Those two impossible young people would never hear that she was secretly glad they were coming with her. The only thing that had frightened her more than taking them into a land soon to be invaded was the thought of letting them travel back to Emelan without her. She trusted the Traders: The ties that bound Briar, his foster-sisters, their teachers, and the Traders were many and strong, too many and too strong to be erased by outsiders’ money and magic. But they were not Rosethorn, and they were not aware of the special kinds of peril that followed those who wielded ambient magic.