The wind?Tris asked eagerly. re going to write about scrying on the wind? She knew that some mages were able to see im ages on the wind, glimpses of things the wind had touched. Being fond of winds herself, Tris thought that being able to see things on them would be well worth learning. The problem was that Niko, the finest seer she knew, couldn t do it, and thus couldnt teach it. have you got for it? Can I meet her? Him?

Niko sighed. don t have a wind seer. I hate to think of leaving this out ... I suppose we could dig up whats been written about it until now, though it would be wonderful if we had someone who could actually write about it as they do it.

Tris slumped on the stool.

The wind is Very difficult, Tris,Niko said gently. s like scrying the future. Youre assailed with thousands of images fragments, really. It drives many who try it insane.

Learned to scry the future,Tris pointed out.

A number of people have informed me they think I am mad,Niko replied, his voice

very dry.

someone yelled from downstairs. you hide all night? Were

starving. And Lieshield refuses to discuss anything else before we choose who will do the index!

so it begins,Niko said wearily, straightening his clothes. could be here for decades. He stopped to give Chime a gentle caress. could always bring her down to distract my colleagues,he suggested, hope in his eyes. could meet some of your peers.

could always pull my ears from my head, too,replied Tris. It would be just as much fun. You know I hate parties.

Niko sighed. ve always been too sensible for me. Check on this Warder fellow tomorrow,he reminded her. sure he has a teacher.

Antonou Tinas had agreed to give Kethlun shop-room, but that didn t include sleeping quarters. The small building on the other side of the shop was just big enough to hold the old man, his wife, their youngest daughter and her husband. From the sound of the quarrels,

Kethlun wasn t even sure that there was room for the younger couple. There was certainly no room for Keth.

At the end of the day, Keth closed the workshop. After saying good night to Antonou, he walked down the Street of Glass to his home, located inside the entertainment district known as Khapik. It wasn t the best housing, as the district hosted quite a few people who regarded theft as an art form, but it was interesting and cheap. Students and young journeymen like Keth could afford Khapik s prices and also be entertained for free. Residents and guests spanned the full spectrum of performance, all lumped together under the name

yaskedasi: poor er mages, actors, musicians, tumblers, dancers, illusionists, singers, gamblers and fortune-tellers. Other residents and employees included outright criminals; servants and cooks at the many eating-houses, theatres, inns, coffee and tea houses; and clerks who served in the multitude of shops that offered everything under the sun: clothing, souvenirs, jewellery, art, flowers and musical instruments.

Keth liked Khapik. There were things to see and do no matter how late the hour. Everyone came here sooner or later: foreigners, nobles, students and merchants male and female going from attraction to attraction. Keth s slow speech, occasional stammer, and slight clumsi ness went unnoticed in a district where the beggars were missing body parts and the poorer

Folk were missing teeth. No one cared that he didn t talk much: here good listeners were in popular demand. Best of all, the occasional storms that swept through Tharios spent their lightning bolts on towers. There were no towers in Khapik.

After a few changes of address, Kethlun had settled at Ferouze s lodgings on Chamberpot Alley. Ferouze let rooms cheaply, to

yaskedasi and anyone else who could pay. Keth couldnt see what had brought fame as a yaskedasu to this old, fat, snaggle-haired woman, but her hou se and her linens were clean and she had enough healing skills to treat the small injuries that befell even the most careful performer. She also played chess. With her help Keth was regaining his old skill at the game.

When he entered the house, built like other Tharian homes around a central courtyard, Keth was surprised to find it so quiet. This was the hour when the place should be waking up, with six yaskedasi in residence. Ferouzes watchdogs came trotting down the corridor to sniff him, then returned to their normal pursuits, allowing Keth to pass into the courtyard. The rooms on all three floors opened on to this small square of green where Ferouze had a kitchen garden and the well.

Normally the

yaskedasi would be talking back and forth from the upstairs galleries around the courtyard, trading gossip and insults as they prepared for work. Today Keth found three of the girls seated on one of the staircases, and no sign of their landlady or the two men who lived there. The girls still wore day clothes, undyed wool kytens. None of them wore a speck of make-up; all had been crying. Yali sat with the absent Iralimas four-year-old daughter curled up in her lap. Little Glakis black curls were tangled. Her face was red and swollen with weeping, and she slept with her thumb in her mouth. Xantha, the blonde northern dancer who lived there, still wept, her face puffy.

Keth looked at Yali, who raised wet brown eyes to his. s wrong? he asked. All thought of the redheaded girl and her lightning fled his mind; goosebumps rippled over his skin. He didnt have to be a mage to know he was about to hear bad news. is everyone?

And the men are at Noskemiou Thanas, replied Poppy. Her green-and-brown eyes, normally filled with anger, were dull. Her brown skin was ashen.

Keth had to think for a moment to translate what she had said into his native Namornese. The city s great hospital for the poor was called Noskemiou; Thanas was the wing where the dead were brought. he asked when his brain sorted it out. died?