They stepped through the arch. Suddenly, they saw people of every possible type: young and old, tall and short, stick-thin and column-heavy, with light skin and medium skin and dark skin. They wore an eye-pleasing array of fashions, in fabrics that were familiar and ones Silver had never seen before. Silver even spied one person in the distance wearing a tunic in Jaspaton’s special weaving pattern, which made her quickly duck her head.
She put her arm over her face and coughed at the dust being kicked up by all the shuffling feet. But through the haze, she saw hundreds of delights. The buildings themselves were two to three stories tall, and a matching shade of sandstone to one another, but their doors and windows were decorated with intricate tile patterns in many colors. Some patterns seemed purely artistic, while others were more practical, spelling out the name of a shop or of the family that lived in the home above a shop. Rugs and tapestries hung from high balconies, and clotheslines crisscrossed like brightly colored festival streamers above Silver’s head.
She wished that Hiyyan could be here to see it. She looked slowly left to right, memorizing every detail. Then she closed her eyes and tried to send him an image. Her fingers warmed with his response, and she grinned. She, too, itched to explore everything.
Everywhere, there were water dragons. In the tile designs, woven into fabrics. Even stone heads and figures jutting out from the tops of the buildings.
Silver’s mouth fell open. “I feel like I’ve entered my dreams … and I don’t know what to do next.”
Her nostrils flared. Somewhere nearby, someone was grilling meat over an open flame. Brajon breathed deeply.
“I know what to do,” he said. “Must. Find. Food.”
Brajon and Silver wove into the crowds, following the intoxicating scent.
On the ground level, shop doors were flung open, and keepers called out to their friends and neighbors to come in and see their newest displays of goods, especially arrived for the Autumn Festival. There were porcelain, simple metalworks, and clothing shops, and dry goods vendors. Most people walked wherever they were going, but every once in a while, a wheeled contraption would come through. Carts full of produce that were pulled by hand, or buggies that were ridden by the power of a chain system, dragging baskets of fresh fish or piles of dried succulent leaves for tea. Silver kept an eye out for the Maze Market, but they didn’t seem to be anywhere near the palace just yet.
Furtively, she peered at Nebekker’s pendant, but it lay still and dark. The city, though, was full of brightness and energy. It both revitalized Silver and made her realize just how tired she was. They needed to find food and rest. Quickly.
She pulled her arms close to her sides, so that she was even smaller, but people still elbowed and shoved. In Jaspaton, people walked side by side and often held hands as they strolled, but there you could see for miles into the desert. You felt the air around you and could breathe. Here in Calidia, everyone pressed together, and the buildings blocked sights more than a few paces away. Silver felt insignificant in the crowds.
And maybe that was a good thing. Silver and Brajon didn’t want to be noticed.
The weight of Silver’s father’s jewels dragged down her bag, her feet, and her heart. They likely had enough money from Nebekker for a meal, but Silver was desperate to rid herself of the stolen goods.
She squinted at the signs. “I think this is as close as we’re going to get to a jeweler’s shop,” she said, pointing to a clothing merchant.
“But food,” Brajon said.
“This first.”
She went straight to the back of the store, where a pinched-faced lady served tea to customers draped in fine silks. The customers looked away in disdain when Silver approached.
“Only customers allowed,” the woman said, wrinkling her nose.
“I am a customer,” Silver shot back. “Do you buy jewelry? I have something of value.” She pulled a ring from her purse and held it in her palm.
The woman’s mouth dropped open. “Where did you get that?”
“I … It’s mine. It’s…”
“No wretch like you would have such a fine piece. Thief! Call the guards!”
“No! I—”
Brajon pulled Silver out of the shop before the woman could shout for the guards again. They ran into the streets, dodged a group of children running and screaming down the road, and darted around a corner.
“There she is,” a voice at the entrance of an alley said.
Silver’s breath came faster. It was one of the customers from the shop. An older man with white hair and a long lavender tunic. He walked toward them.
“The ring is mine,” Silver insisted. She wanted to say she wasn’t a thief, but that would have been a lie.
“It is,” Brajon said.
“I believe you,” the man said, watching the two of them carefully. “Will you hold up the ring again? But quickly! Guards are everywhere in this city.”
When Silver hesitated, he leaned in closer. “Don’t be afraid. I’m interested in buying it.”
Silver shared a look with her cousin. Brajon pressed his lips together and gently shook his head. But what choice did they have? They needed money. Silver showed him the ring.
“Such fine handiwork. Gold and rubies.” The man considered, then named his price.
Silver bit back a gasp. He wanted less than a third of what the ring was worth. Rami Batal would have refused. But she wasn’t her father, and she didn’t have much choice.
Her stomach rumbled, and the old man smiled knowingly.
“I’ll sell,” Silver said. “For your price.”
“And for your silence,” Brajon said.
“Is there someone after you?”
They shook their heads.
“No?” The old man shrugged. “Then I care nothing for your troubles. I leave for the southern mountains tomorrow, and this will fetch a fair price there.”
Silver took the meager handful of coins and watched the man walk away with the ring.
“Added to Nebekker’s money, it should be more than enough for our meals and supplies,” Silver said. Even so, she smarted at being taken advantage of.
“You did well,” Brajon said.
“So did you. ‘And for your silence,’” Silver said, mimicking Brajon’s voice.
Brajon laughed. “I felt like a mysterious trader with secrets to keep. I was just trying not to appear nervous. I was worried he was going to bring guards back with him.”
The cousins returned to the main road. Silver pointed at a small stall with a stone cauldron in the shape of a dragon’s head. Its open mouth was tilted to the sky, breathing flames. Behind the fire, a rotund woman turned sticks heavy with meat, while another woman sat to her side, rolling thin rounds of dough and handing them up to be cooked next to the meat skewers.
The line for the vendor was about a dozen people long. Silver and Brajon joined the end of it, tapping their feet impatiently. Silver sucked on the insides of her mouth. She was so hungry she couldn’t think about anything else. Not Kirja, not Nebekker’s friend Arkilah, not Sagittaria Wonder. At least she knew Hiyyan was enjoying plenty of river fish.
When they finally got to the front of the line, Silver pointed. She didn’t trust herself to open her mouth; she thought she might swallow the entire cart of food.
“One!” the woman rotating the meats called out.
“Five,” Brajon called, countering.
The woman’s eyes narrowed, then she shrugged. She pulled five flatbreads off the grate and lined each with a stick of meat. Then she sprinkled some herbs over the top and a dollop of yogurt and passed them to Brajon. He blew on them while Silver dug coins from her bag.