“In truth, this is her first Gathering. She has not been presented yet. Her grandmother and I believe she must learn the duties and responsibilities of a Trader woman before she is presented as one.” In contrast to Jani, her mother's voice was courteous and hasty, as if correcting a wrong impression.

“Ah. That does sound like Ronica Vestrit. And I do approve of such philosophy. I fear it is becoming rarer in Bingtown these days.” Her tone smooth and rich as cream now.

“Your flame jewels are beautiful,” Malta blurted out. “Are they very expensive?” Even as she said it, she heard how childish she sounded.

“Malta!” her mother rebuked her.

But the Rain Wild woman chuckled throatily. “Actually, the scarlets are the most common and the easiest to awaken. But I still love them best. Red is such a rich color. The greens and blues are rarer far, and much harder to stir. And so, of course, they are the ones we charge most dearly for. The flame jewels are the exclusive province of the Khuprus, of course.”

“Of course,” her mother replied. “It is quite thrilling to see this new addition to the Khuprus merchandise. The rumors of them have not done them justice.” Her mother glanced over her shoulder. “Oh, dear! We have delayed you, I fear. We should probably all go in lest they begin without us.”

“Oh, they will wait on me, I am certain,” Jani Khuprus observed heavily. “It is at my behest we are all gathered here. But you are right, there is no courtesy in keeping others waiting. Keffria, young Malta. A pleasure to speak with you both.”

“Our pleasure,” her mother demurred, and stepped aside deferentially to allow the hooded woman to precede her. As her mother took her arm, she gripped it just a fraction tighter than was comfortable. “Oh, Malta,” she sighed in rebuke, and then firmly escorted her in. Just within the doors of the Trader Concourse, Grandmother awaited them. Her lips were folded tightly. She curtsied deeply to Jani Khuprus as she passed, then turned wide eyes on Malta and her mother.

Her mother waited a few moments to be sure Jani Khuprus was out of earshot, then hissed, “She presented herself to her!”

“Oh, Malta,” her grandmother groaned. Sometimes Malta felt her name was a sort of club. Almost any time either of them said it, they expressed anger or disgust or impatience with the world. She hung her cloak on a peg, then turned with a shrug.

“I just wanted to see her flame jewels,” she tried to explain, but as usual, neither of them was listening to her. Instead they hurried her inside the hall. It was dimly lit with tall standing branches of tapers. A third of the space had been given over to an elevated stage. The floor that she had always seen cleared for dancing was now lined with rows of chairs. And it was as she had feared. They were late. The tables of food were picked over and folk were either seated already or seeking their seats. “Can I go and sit with Delo?” she asked hastily.

“Delo Trell is not here,” Grandmother pointed out acidly. “Her parents had the good sense to leave her at home. Which is where I wish you were, also.”

“I didn't ask to come,” Malta replied, even as her mother said, “Mother!” in rebuke. A few moments later, Malta found herself seated between them at the end of a long row of cushioned chairs. Davad Restart sat at the very end. There was an elderly couple in front of them, a pox-scarred man and his pregnant wife behind them, and on the other side of Mama were two heavy-jowled brothers. They weren't even interesting to look at. By sitting up tall and craning her head, she finally found Cerwin Trell. He was six rows in front of them, and almost at the opposite end of the row. There were empty seats behind the Trells. She was sure her mother had deliberately chosen to seat her so far away.

“Sit still and pay attention,” her grandmother hissed.

Malta sighed and slumped back in her seat. Up front, Trader Trentor was midway through a long invocation to Sa. It seemed to be a long list of everything that had ever gone wrong for any of the Trader families. Instead of being angry that Sa had let such things befall them, he groveled along about how Sa always came to their aid.

If it had been Krion instead of his uncle, perhaps it would have been interesting. In the seats reserved for the Rain Wild Traders, several cowled heads were bent forward. She wondered if they were already dozing.

After the invocation, there was the speech of welcome by Trader Drur. It repeated the same tired litany. All were kin, all were Traders, ancient oaths and bonds, loyalty and unity, blood and kin. Malta found a flaw in the weave of her new robe. It was right at the edge of her knee. When she tried to point it out to her mother, she looked annoyed and made a shushing motion with her hand. When Drur finally resumed his seat and Jani Khuprus came forward, Malta sat up and leaned forward.