Hoard

Shamissar was tropical, and much lower in altitude than Dragonvale, so it was already notably warmer. Not too bad at this time of year, and hopefully wouldn’t get too bad as the day progressed; Kaln was mildly concerned about Percy and her thin northern blood, and stiff northern dress. Far more notable than the temperature was the distance this trip had taken them around the planet: they had left Dragonvale in the early afternoon, but in Shima Vaat dawn was just barely breaking.

At least that meant they didn’t have to wade into a crowd immediately upon departing the customs office. The teleportation arrival bay had probably been the only section open at this hour, for precisely this reason. Now the group stood upon a broad semicircular plaza, with an obvious market street opening up directly ahead of them and four other thoroughfares branching out at angles. The customs offices were part of the huge city wall, separating the urban area proper from the docks beyond.

“Oh, this is great!” Kaln said enthusiastically, peering around at the plaza and market streets. “Look how well-designed it is! See, the matching awnings covering the market there? That suggests they’re planned and installed by the government—same fabric and all—but the varying dimensions make it look organic. And check out this perfect use of urban greenery! Those are flutter palms, the same kind we have in Rhivkabat. They give great shade, but the trunks only start branching above head level, so there’s minimal obstruction of line of sight, and no places for ne’er-do-wells to hide. Oh, look how they spaced the fountains, too! All this was designed really carefully, by somebody who knew their stuff!”

“Nerd,” Shadrach drawled.

“Try not to have fun today, Shadrach,” Kaln retorted in the same tone. “I’d hate to be responsible for you combusting or something.”

“You are a nerd,” Pheneraxa added, smiling, “but I mean that affectionately.”

“I should hope so. From you of all people, that wouldn’t be much of an insult.” He turned to the fourth member of their group, who was surveying their surroundings with a typically blank expression. Percy could be hard to read; despite her tendency to leak whatever thoughts she had out of her mouth, she rarely let them show on her face. “What do you think, Percy? Any questions, now we’re here?”

“Oh. Yes.” She turned to look earnestly at him. “What do those glasses do, exactly, that’s so valuable?”

Kaln blinked. “I meant about… Well—”

“Illuvon Lenses are the best ocular protection you can get,” Pheneraxa explained primly. “They shield the eyes against everything from bright lights to airborne particles to cognitohazards. I’ve heard it said—though not seen it tested—that if a person wearing Illuvon Lenses received a full blast of dragonfire what remained would be a pair of pristine eyeballs in a pile of ash.”

“How horrible,” Percy said in a seemingly neutral tone. “What are cognitohazards?”

“Dangers to the mind. Mother has a pair of those for the library; some of the books in the secured sections will drive you mad if you read them without protection. That feature is why portal mages need them. One on Shadrach’s level is capable of accessing exotic planes of existence where reality is sufficiently different that just looking at it unfiltered can mess you up.”

“Oh.” Percy turned to Shadrach. “Then why go there?”

“Unless you think you can afford my rates for that, none of your concern,” he said irritably.

“What would you like to do first, Percy?” Kaln asked. “We’re here for you; say the word. What’re we looking for?”

“Ah. Yes.” Percy had to reach awkwardly into her neckline, as her dress didn’t seem to have pockets, but after a moment’s rummaging pulled out several slightly crinkled sheets of paper. “Thank you. I have compiled several lists of…um, varying degrees of…thoroughness. I know you said you’d buy me anything I wanted or needed, but, um… Mother’s always telling me offers like that are just courtesies except in very specific social situations, and if I tried to accept them outright it would be greedy.”

“Your mother sounds very wise,” he said with a smile.

Percy nodded, dead serious. “Yes. She’s extremely clever, and socially adept. Mother is an excellent queen.”

“Well, her advice is good. Let me reassure you: this is one of those very specific situations. I meant it literally, Percy. Anything and everything you require, as long as it’s within my means. And let’s not limit ourselves to that: you should get some things you want, too. You’re going to be with us for a while and I’d like you to be as comfortable as possible.”

“I see. Thank you.” She smiled, the expression refreshingly unguarded, and handed him one of the lists. “Then…this one is everything. Please don’t hesitate to turn any of these down if they prove untenable.”

“Hum…” Kaln swiftly read over her notes. Her handwriting was extremely neat, almost on a scribe’s level, but her actual thought process seemed quite disorganized, to judge by the mess of crossed-out ideas and annotations. There were even footnotes. “Telescopes? That might be tricky… I don’t know if you even can find those in a marketplace.”

“Yes, they’re more of a specialty product,” she said a little nervously. “That was, um, one of the least important requests. Please don’t worry about it if it’s not feasible.”

“Well, we can at least look. It might not be possible but this is a big city; I’ll ask around and see if we can do anything.”

“Okay!” she said brightly. “Thank you very much, Kaln. Oh! Um, I have a request, which I didn’t think to write down. Could we get something to eat? It’s just that…we’ve been eating your cooking all week.”

“Yes, I wouldn’t mind a break from that, myself,” he agreed. “Good idea, Percy. Fortunately food stalls are usually the first places to open.”

With Shadrach trailing sullenly in their wake, they visited the closest stand to the market street’s entrance and bought the first hot pastries of the day—though sweet, they were not overly so, consisting of thin flatbread folded around filling that appeared to be fruit mashed and boiled to paste with cinnamon and no additional sugar. From there they moved on to a nearby cafe which had just opened, taking a few moments to sit at the outdoor tables washing it down with hot drinks. Massari “tea” was herbal, and seemed like it would be strong and almost spicy in flavor were it not so laden with milk.

Kaln, as he had promised, bought food and drinks for Shadrach as well, which the mage accepted with no outward sign of gratitude.

He’d already spotted the first of their watchers. That would probably get more difficult as the day wore on and the city woke up, but at this hour there were so few people about that the several individuals too well-dressed to be vagabonds who loitered at the edges of their vicinity ostentatiously paying them no attention had no crowds with which to blend. The others didn’t appear to notice, which as far as Kaln was concerned was ideal. Percy would worry and Pheneraxa would bridle if they were obviously being loomed over by guards. This was for the best, though. If the Sovereignty was reassured they were actually shopping and not here to cause problems, they would hopefully be able to get everything they needed and depart with no drama.

“I asked the commissioner at the customs office for recommendations, and he actually knew of a clothier which is run by an immigrant from the Evervales. It seems they cater to the wealthier traveling merchants, and are most likely to have the kind of clothing you’re used to. Let’s make that our first stop.”

“Oh, really?” Percy perked up noticeably. “That would be lovely. I was a little apprehensive about adopting a new style.”

“Not feeling adventurous?” Pheneraxa asked.

Percy’s face fell. “I feel…like I get plenty of adventure, these days. It would be…comforting to surround myself with something more familiar.”

“Ah…I see.” The dragon trailed off, looking uncharacteristically awkward. Shadrach smirked at her—fortunately from behind her field of view, and equally fortunately chose to keep his mouth shut this time. “So, Percy. What’s the significance of that? There seems to be a pattern to it, but it’s very complex. I can’t quite follow.”

Percy turned to her, eyebrows drawing together inquisitively. “Pattern? To what?”

“That thing you do with your fingertips. I just noticed—”

Percy instantly turned away, grabbing fistfuls of her skirts and hunching her shoulders. “Sorry! I’m sorry.”

“Y—wait, for what? You didn’t do anything wrong, I just… I was curious, that’s all.”

Pheneraxa’s hasty reassurance didn’t seem to help; the princess ducked her head further, staring at the paving stones in front of her feet. “Fidgeting is not appropriate behavior for a lady of rank. Mother is very strict about it. In public. Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for! I…didn’t mean to…”

Percy lengthened her stride slightly, pulling subtly ahead of the group as Pheneraxa trailed off in confusion. The dragon started to reach forward, but Kaln stepped up and gently laid a hand against her upper back.

“Easy,” he murmured. “Bumping up against family and childhood issues, there. She clearly doesn’t wanna talk about it. She’ll open up in her own time, don’t push.”

Frankly he was impressed she’d been watching the girl closely enough to see it. Kaln himself had not noticed Percy doing anything with her fingertips, and he made a point to be aware of the people in his orbit.

“I didn’t mean to upset her,” Pheneraxa muttered, frowning. “Now I feel…”

“You obviously didn’t do it on purpose, she won’t blame you. Give it space to fade on its own. In a couple minutes I bet all will be forgotten.”

The dragon sighed, still staring at their guest, who had now pulled a handful of paces ahead. “She’s got so much to deal with as it is. I just want to be a good friend.”

“You are.” Kaln patted her back again. “You’re a good kid, Pheneraxa, and a good friend. You’ll be an even better one with practice.”

She nodded absently, a faint smile ghosting across her lips.

Then, abruptly, blushed very much the way Emeralaphine did, her face falling into a scowl, and jerked away from him, hissing.

“Stop parenting me, you presumptuous mayfly!”

Pheneraxa stalked off ahead, quickly drawing even with Percy, who indeed smiled up at her, seemingly having already forgotten her worry of a moment ago. Kaln could see she was still keeping her fingers balled up in her skirts, though.

Glancing about, he got a full view of Shadrach’s malicious grin, and a bearded fellow loitering aimlessly nearby who abruptly pretended to be paying them no attention as Kaln’s eyes fell on him.

“No drama” might turn out to be relative. Perhaps he should adjust his hopes to “minimal drama.”

“Good sir, have you any idea what you are asking?”

This had been going so well until just a moment ago. Madame Ludensky had been pleased to welcome early morning customers to her dress shop, even more pleased to be introduced to a young Verdi noblewoman seeking her services, and positively ecstatic when Percy’s initial confused stammering about what she wanted resolved, with some gentle prompting from Kaln, into an offer to purchase fourteen Evervale-style gowns, which was nearly half of what the shop held (Percy only liked the ones in dark colors). But then he had asked if they could take them today, and now the woman had drawn herself up to her full height and was staring down her nose in a way that reminded him of Emeralaphine in a mood.

“I thought I did,” Kaln replied with a gently ingratiating smile, “but your sudden change in demeanor tells me I was mistaken.”

The light touch of charm did the trick; the tailor relaxed noticeably, not quite to the point of smiling but shedding the appearance of offense.

“I am not a wholesaler, sir. Every garment created in my shop is a handcrafted work of art, and I will not be party to a customer leaving here in work of mine which does not fit her flawlessly. The young lady’s measurements must be taken, and the dresses she is to purchase altered accordingly. Fourteen dresses! This is not a small amount of work, sir.”

In unison, the five young women arrayed around the shop nodded sternly. Madame Ludensky was a pale Valefolk with dark blonde hair beginning to show silver at the temples, but all her apprentices were local Missari girls who didn’t look older than twenty. To judge by their expressions, however, they shared their mistress’s standards.

“I see,” Kaln said in his most conciliatory tone. “My apologies, it was not my attention to be unreasonable. It’s just that I don’t have much frame of reference for how much work I am asking for. Is this, shall we say…a physical impossibility, or merely a presumptuous thing to ask of a professional?”

“It teeters on the border,” the Madame replied. “That is an order I could perhaps fill, were I to close my shop for the day and forfeit all other business. Do not mistake me, Master Zelekhir, I am most appreciative of your custom—and in particular, of the opportunity to lend my skills where they are so sorely needed. In fact…I could wish to put them to even more use.” She gave Percy a warm smile, and let a distinctly regretful gaze linger upon Pheneraxa. It had taken a few minutes upon their arrival in the shop to redirect her attention, as the tailor had immediately fixated upon what she assumed to be a dragonborn dressed in a robe that looked made of old curtains. The Madame seemed not to have recuperated from the shock of Pheneraxa’s annoyed insistence that she liked her attire. “But not, I am afraid, to the exclusion of all other considerations.”

“I see,” Kaln mused. The sum she had given him—silently written on a slip of paper, because apparently it was uncouth to voice such sums aloud in Vale and/or Missari culture—was certainly…a percentage of the funds he’d brought with him, but not even a large one. He’d wasted more money with Izayaroa in the Roundabout, and this was actually important. “And what if, for the sake of argument, I were to double your asking price?”

That brought dead silence. The five apprentices turned wide-eyed stares upon Madame Ludensky, who just barely managed to retain her composure.

“I…well, sir, that is an exceedingly generous offer. One might almost say excessively so. But balanced against…”

“Of course, forgive me,” Kaln said solicitously. “No offense was meant, I wouldn’t dream of undervaluing your business.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Triple, then.”

Ten wide, dark eyes fixed upon the seamstress with an almost physical force, the five girls practically quivering in eagerness. Evidently they were paid on commission. Ludensky herself had to draw in a slow, steadying breath.

“Now that is downright…tantalizing. It is also, of course, a risk…”

“Oh, of course! I realize you don’t know any of us at all, I would never ask you to imperil your business. Since you, after all, aren’t likely to abruptly leave the city as four out-of-towners might, it only stands to reason we should shoulder any risk. Paid in advance, then.”

The silence held such weight it seemed hard to move.

“Smadhya,” Madame Ludensky finally asked in a meticulously even tone, still staring at Kaln, “what appointments have we today?”

“Only the custom sari for—” the apprentice’s eyes cut to their silent guests for a moment “—the lady in question. And that’s only a pickup, though you know how she usually likes to browse new fabrics when collecting her orders.”

“Ah, yes. Zaani, lock the door and post the apology sign in the window. Smadhya, go hire a runner; inform our established customer that she may ignore the sign and collect her purchase at her convenience, but that we will not be able to entertain new business today. Ahem. If you will step this way, please, Lady Perseverance, we will take your measurements.”

“Oh. Uh, sure. Of course.” Percy seemed slightly confused by the preceding discussion, but moved obligingly toward the corner of the shop the Madame indicated.

Kaln, however, had stiffened in alarm. “I…never imagined you were acquainted.”

“Oh, the name?” Madame Ludensky gave him a wry smile. “Good sir, the primary deity worshiped throughout the Vale states is the Shepherd—goddess of perseverance. Guess what the single most popular name is for girls throughout the region? I knew three Percys growing up.”

“Ah. I see.”

“If you would, sir, Madfra will assist you with the details of the transaction. Sir, may I help you?” The latter she added sharply to Shadrach, who had wondered over in Percy’s wake.

He paused, looking not particularly intimidated, or interested. After sizing up the tailor, he glanced over at Kaln. “Are we not keeping an eye on her? I wasn’t gonna go behind the screen—oh, wait, do you actually need to get her out of the dress for measurements? Never mind, sorry.”

Shadrach sauntered back toward the front in no particular hurry, leaving Percy pausing in front of the screen behind which Ludensky had directed her.

“No, that will not be necessary,” the tailor said patiently, “but there are some activities for which a lady does not desire an audience!”

“Right, right, gender,” the mage said in a bored tone, reaching into a hole he conjured midair and pulling out a book. “That’s not much of a thing where we’re from.”

“It’s not much of a thing because Izayaroa spent four generations gently massaging it out of our culture,” Kaln said in exasperation even as he handed stacks of coins to the diffident young woman who took up position on the other side of the counter. “Most cultures care more about gender. Don’t wander into women’s spaces, Shadrach, we’re trying to pretend to be civilized people, here.”

Shadrach had already stuck his nose in his book and was ostentatiously ignoring them.

“I’ve heard that about Rhivaak,” Madfra remarked with a flirtatious smile, which did not seem to distract her from counting coins. “It sounds…unsettling, to be honest. I quite like being a girl!”

“I assure you, we have girls in Rhivaak,” Kaln said politely. “They just aren’t confined to certain roles in public life.”

“Oh?” The girl simpered up at him through her long lashes. “Well, perhaps I could accustom myself to that. It sounds…liberating, the way you explain it.”

“He’s married,” Pheneraxa commented pointedly from across the room.

“Happily so,” Kaln agreed with a bland smile. Shadrach snorted loudly.

“What? No!” All of them paused, looking up at Percy’s sudden outburst from behind the screen, in response to a much quieter comment by Madame Ludensky. “Kaln and Pheneraxa are my friends! Things have been very…well, it’s been an upheaval, but none of it was their fault. They’ve been extremely kind to me!”

Pheneraxa turned an irritated scowl on the screen, while Shadrach barked a derisive laugh.

“It reassures me that someone is willing to look out for a stranger in a strange situation,” Kaln said pleasantly. “Even if our situation isn’t quite as strange as one might fear. Now then, where were we?”