When they returned to their bodies, it was almost noon. Polyam, Rosethorn, and Lark were on the balcony with Little Bear and Shriek, talking as they fed the bird egg balls. Hearing groans as the five explorers tried to make stiff bodies work again, the women came to help them rise. Sandry just waking up, rushed in to lend a hand.

Once everyone was comfortable, Polyam retrieved a wooden box she had placed on a small table. “Our caravan is leaving this afternoon, now that Master Firetamer assures us the grassfires near the south road are out,” she announced formally. “It is time to conclude our bargain.”

The box was a beautiful thing, glossy carved wood inlaid with mother-of-pearl. When Polyam opened it, they saw that it was lined with soft black velvet.

Gently Daja set the potted iron vine on the big table. Polyam opened a washed-leather bag that lay in the box and drew out five gold coins. Two were three inches across, the size of medallions rather than money. On one side was the coat of arms of the ruling dukes of Emelan: a ship with a lighthouse on either side, the rune for protection on top, and an enclosed spiral below. On the other side was the image of a harbor, its opening guarded on the left by a massive, rectangular tower and on the right by a thin spiky tower perched on a lump of rock. It was an exact portrait of Summersea harbor.

“Strike me sideways,” muttered Briar. His fingers itched to handle the coins. How many people got to see a gold maja in a lifetime? Until this sight of money, the long round of bargaining had been a game. Now it wasn’t.

With the slow care of ceremony, Polyam set each maja down before the plant. Beside them she placed three smaller coins, gold astrels.

“I am satisfied,” Daja said automatically, though she wasn’t. The money had never really interested her, only the chance to talk with a Trader again. Now that chance was ending. When Polyam—and her caravan—left, Daja would be alone among the kaqs once more.

Briar gathered up the coins and offered them to Daja. She turned her head away. After a brief hesitation, the boy passed them to Lark, who tucked them into her belt-purse.

When Polyam looked at the vine and sighed, Daja said quickly, “I’ll help you take it back. There’s a wheelbarrow we can use. And I’d like to go with the caravan a ways—well, behind it, with Polyam,” she said, looking to Frostpine and Niko for permission. “I’ll come back by dark.” When they hesitated, she added, “If it’s safe enough for them to leave, it’s safe enough for me to walk, surely.”

“There you all are.” Lady Inoulia stood in the open door. “Are you hungry? I wish to invite Lady Sandrilene, and you mages—and your little pupils, of course—to midday on our lookout tower. Yarrun has something to show us. My lord duke has already accepted.” Glancing at Polyam, she added, “I know you are anxious to be on your way, wirok.”

Daja looked down, clenching her teeth at the barely hidden dismissal in the lady’s words. “I must refuse,” she said coldly. “I am helping Polyam of Tenth Caravan Idaram take her goods to her people.” And I hope they cheat you, and your children, and your grandchildren, in every trade they do with you forevermore, she added silently. Kaq.

The other three young people looked uncomfortable, but unlike Daja, they had no excuse ready. Niko accepted for them all and agreed to come to the tower when the noon bell struck.

“You should keep this,” Polyam said, pushing the inlaid box away from her. “The caravan would only burn it, and that would be a waste of good work. Besides, there’s a brick of Trader tea under the velvet—I had to smuggle it out.”

“Thank you,” whispered Daja.

“And I thank you,” said Polyam. She bowed to Lark, Rosethorn, Niko, and Frostpine. “It was an honor to meet all of you. I’ve heard your names for years. What a pleasure it is to find that you deserve all the praise that has been given to you, and more.”

They bowed to her in return. “May your road be easy and your profits great,” Lark said in Tradertalk.

Polyam shrugged. “I doubt that,” she said wryly, resettling her grip on her staff. “I go back to being just the wirok now—after ten days of trailing the caravan and washing in every pond and stream. It was nice, being almost as good as a daka.” She looked at Daja’s friends. “We will meet again. The gilav intends to make Winding Circle a stop on our route.”

Once Daja loaded the plant into the barrow lent them by the potter, Polyam bowed awkwardly in farewell and led the way out of the room.

Lark sighed. “If we’re to join her ladyship and her pet mage, let’s neaten up.”

When Daja and Polyam emerged from the band of forest just below the castle into the clearing around the main road, the girl could see that Tenth Caravan Idaram was ready to go. Everyone was packed and loaded. Families were eating a cold midday meal, older children keeping a strict watch on goats, horses, or the occasional cow. Mothers served food and ate with their babies already in slings on their backs. Men and boys checked their weapons. Even the dogs knew to stay close.

Daja halted just under the trees, fighting to swallow the lump that had appeared in her throat. The means of travel was so different, but some things were the same: White or Blue Traders, they fixed vivid blue pompoms and strings of bells to their gear to scare away demons. The babies wore blue strings on their wrists, and every child under the age of two wore tiny golden bell earrings. Many girls wore an ankle bracelet of tiny bells, the boys azure blue wrist bands. The men and most of the children wore leggings and thigh-length tunics; women and older girls wore flaring skirts, short-sleeved blouses, and long vests. Until her family’s ship sank, Daja had spent her entire life among people who had dressed and decorated things in just this way.