“I told Daja I’m off to Izmolka to pick up a fur shipment,” Ben explained as Daja measured his feet. “The weather-mages claim we’ll only get light snows during that time, but of course you have to treat their predictions with caution.”

“Weather’s nearly impossible to predict for longer than a few days,” Frostpine agreed, though he and Daja knew a weather-mage whose predictions for the next month were always right. “I assume you carry storm-warning charms though.”

“Nothing but the best for Ladradun,” Ben replied. “Good for half a day’s notice of storms. I don’t know how Mother can let them out of her sight, they were so expensive, but she always makes me carry them for the last caravan of the year.”

Because she doesn’t want to lose her precious furs, Daja thought grumpily as she gathered her cord, slate, and chalk, and got to her feet.

“All done?” Ben asked.

“Just one more thing,” Daja promised. She got on a stool and measured the height and width of his eye sockets, from one temple to the other. “In case I work out how you’ll be able to see,” she explained as she stepped down. His eyes were bloodshot, his skin putty-colored. Like his hands, his face was clammy.

“I look forward to this construction,” Frostpine admitted. “Daja, you should write a paper for the Mages’ Society when you’re done-they love details of unusual workings. Lightsbridge and Winding Circle will want copies, too.”

Daja snorted. She didn’t need to impress mages she didn’t know.

“You won’t help her?” asked Ben, surprised. “I assumed… As you say, the work is unusual. She ran into trouble with those gloves.”

Daja ducked her head, wanting to protest, They came out all right in the end! She was surprised that Ben had made a typical adult mistake, thinking she couldn’t manage without an older person’s aid. She thought he knew her better.

“Oh, she miscalculated, but that’s to be expected,” Frostpine replied. “She’s the only mage in the world who has this living metal. It means she has to invent magic for it as she goes. I can advise, but the only kind of assistant she needs is one to hold things steady while she works.”

Daja flapped a hand at him, grateful for and embarrassed by the praise.

“Besides,” added Frostpine, “Heluda says she’ll want my help in a few other matters for the magistrate’s court this winter. She seems to think I’ll turn magistrate’s mage at my stage of life. I just hope that between us we’ll catch the fellow who’s setting these fires.”

“You’ll do us great service if you can,” Ben replied. He looked at Daja. “I must go. I’ll call on you when I’m back.” He kissed her, right cheek, left cheek. “I’ll see myself out.” To Frostpine he said, “It was an honor.”

“A pleasure for me,” Frostpine replied. “I like meeting Daja’s friends. She encounters the most interesting people.”

Once he had gone, Frostpine picked up an iron glove form, turning it over in his hands. “Your friend doesn’t look well.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Daja agreed. “Between fires, and training, and that mother of his, I don’t know when he sleeps.”

“Kol’s heard a rumor, put about by Ladradun’s mother, that you’re looking for a rich husband, and Ben is your mark.” Daja gasped with indignation. Frostpine raised a hand to stop her protest. “I know you, don’t forget. So do Kol and Matazi. But there are men who involve themselves with young girls, girls younger than you, I’m ashamed to say. And merchant families often marry daughters to men Ben’s age and older, because they can afford a wife and family. I had wondered if Ladradun might be looking at you.”

Daja stared at Frostpine. Then the humor of it struck her. “Me and Ben?” she asked, amused. “Never mind that he’s old-“

“Early thirties is not old!” protested Frostpine.

“Old, and a widower, and-really, Frostpine!” She chuckled.

Frostpine grinned. “All right, I knew I was wrong almost right off, but I had to make sure. You’re wise for your age, but you aren’t experienced in what goes on between men and women.”

“While you have too much experience,” Daja pointed out. “One of us has to be restrained.” He’d managed to make her feel weepy: he was looking out for her like a father or a brother.

“I’ve heard no complaints about my conduct,” Frostpine informed her wickedly. More seriously he added, “When I find someone to share my bed, I try to ensure that no one gets hurt or lied to. It’s another kind of friendship, though not what I’d recommend to someone just beginning to find out what love is.”

Daja grabbed a fistful of his beard and tugged gently “Since I’m not starting that sort of thing, particularly with Ben, you can relax, oh watchful teacher.”

Frostpine stretched, like the panther she sometimes imagined he was. “I don’t think he’s interested in your body or your heart. But… ” He combed his fingers through his beard. “Daja, something’s not right there,” he said at last. There was concern in his dark eyes. “I don’t know what it is, but it worries me.”

“I think so too, sometimes,” Daja admitted. “But he’s complicated, Frostpine, and his mother-Bookkeeper, don’t log this against me, but I think his mother is a monster. And more than half cracked, if she’s talking that way about me and him.”