I SPENT TEN minutes knocking on Nedra’s door before the innkeeper peered up the stairs and told me that she’d left at dawn, to a store I hadn’t heard of.
“She ya sister?” he asked me as I grabbed a roll from the basket on the table. It took a moment for his thick accent to melt into my ears.
“No,” I said, and turned and left before he could further inquire about our relationship. I thought I heard him chuckling as I closed the door behind me.
The market in Hart wasn’t hard to find; it was connected to the docks, and we’d passed it on our way into town. The Emperor’s steward had told me that I was welcome to take more than just a day perusing the market, but that the ship would leave without me and I’d be forced to wait for the next one, or book my own passage off Lunar Island.
I shouldn’t have worried, though. When I reached the market, I knew it would not even take me the full day to examine its offerings.
The building was long, wooden with a thatched roof and no walls, just pillars interspaced between tables. The side closest to the docks was full of fish vendors, but most of them seemed to be closing up for the day.
Beyond fish, farmers from the villages had set up their produce. The largest farms had tables, but people—mostly women and children—pushed wagons or wheelbarrows of vegetables through the crowds, offering cheaper prices but far inferior wares. Every once in a while a merchant with a table shouted down one of the children scalping his business, but, like fleas on a stray dog, when one scampered off, another soon took their place.
I moved quickly through this part of the market—I could sell Miraband neither produce nor fish.
A few stalls were reserved for tinkerers and repairmen. A cobbler nailed a boot heel by a bench; a clock smith offered to repair my watch, even though it wasn’t broken. The stalls farthest from the dock were actually little rooms, with a gateway entrance and aisles of wares.
“Can I help you?” a man asked as I picked up a felt hat from the display. I watched as he scanned me, quickly determining that I was from the south and therefore had more money to throw around. “Best hats in the north, in all of Lunar Island,” he boasted. “Here, this one’s made of orcine.” He reached for a hat farther up and handed it to me.
I brushed my fingers along the smooth fur of the hat, soft and sleek as brushed silk. It reminded me of Nedra’s story about the widow.
As the hatter wrapped a tape around my head to measure, the enormity of what I was trying to do hit me. I had no idea if there was a market for orcine hats in Miraband. Were there even enough orcines around the northern islands in the Stellar Chain to meet demand, if I could make demand?
“I’ll take one,” I said finally. I gave the man a coin and ordered the felt hat as well as a bonnet decorated with paper flowers to be sent to the ship at the dock. I did the same with most of the stalls, selecting a sample of leather belts from one, straw dolls from another, wooden engravings from a third.
I’d spent most of the money I’d reserved for today’s market trip by the time I reached the end of the market. I wasn’t sure which of the items would pique the interest of the trade commission, but surely something would stand out. Perhaps our leather would be tanned more durably, or maybe the homespun cloth would have a nostalgic feel to it that could spark a new fashion trend.
I had to at least try.
“Fancy man!” a young voice called.
I turned—as much as I didn’t want the moniker to apply to me, I knew it did. A young woman who looked to be about my age waved at me. “Heard you were the one buying everything in the market,” she said coyly as I approached. She had a ring on her finger, and the way her apron gathered over her stomach made me think she might be pregnant.
“I’m looking for authentic wares,” I said.
“Authentic wares.” She smirked at me. “What sort of authentic wares you looking for?”
“Anything,” I said. “I have a variety of interests.”
She leaned against the post in the market, eyeing me. “You ain’t got no clay.”
“Clay?”
The woman was subtly leading me away from the main market, but I didn’t mind.
“Earthenware,” she clarified. “My family makes the best bowls and plates this side of the island.” She seemed so proud, I couldn’t help but smile as she whistled a little tune. I picked up my pace to keep up with her, bumping into a little girl as we rounded an alleyway.
“Where’s your studio?” I asked. It was harder to keep up with her, and the streets were narrow.
“Studio.” She laughed gaily. “We just work down by the bay. But here ya are.” She stopped in front of a stoop, where a large bowl and a short stack of plates were displayed. She gestured to her wares, and for the first time I noticed that she was missing her right hand.
The clay items were few, and certainly not worthy of the evident pride the woman had for them. When I picked up a plate, red dust clung to my fingertips, and the plate beneath the first was chipped and cracked.
“Best on the island,” the woman said again, grinning at me.
Something about this whole exchange felt wrong, but I couldn’t place it.
“Ah,” I said, trying to think of the right words to politely disengage from her. “Sadly, I don’t think these would survive the journey.”
She shrugged as if it didn’t matter, then sat down on the stoop. “Well, thanks for seeing what I had to offer,” she said, clearly ready to dismiss me.
I stood there a moment, struck by the strangeness of the whole situation, then turned and made my way back down the twisting streets toward the market. It wasn’t until I rounded the corner that I thought to touch the coin purse on my belt.
Gone.
I remembered the tune the woman had whistled, the little girl who’d bumped into me. Whirling around, I raced back to the stoop, but there was nothing there now but broken bits of red clay pottery.
Rage washed over me. Not at the loss of money—I had taken only a portion of my travel stipend and could afford to lose it. But I felt like a fool not to have seen through such an obvious ruse. Had I been in Northface Harbor, I wouldn’t have fallen for the woman’s trick, but—my cheeks burned—I hadn’t expected the people of Hart to be so ruthless.
Or so clever.
I was so caught up in my own stupidity as I made my way down the streets, back to the market, that I almost missed the woman who’d tried to sell me the earthenware. She’d wrapped a red scarf around her head, making her seem older, and I would have passed her by except that when she saw me, she started like a deer and turned to run. Without thinking about it, I grabbed her hand, yanking her around.
There weren’t many people on the street, but the few who were there took one look at me and ducked their heads, disappearing into the alleys.
“All I have to do is shout,” I told the girl. “And the Guard will come.”
She gaped at me. “You’d have me hung for ten silver?” My grip tightened; she’d just confirmed that she’d worked with the little girl to pick my pockets.
Her surprise at being caught quickly turned to anger. “Fine, then, do as you want,” she spat. “Southerners always do.”
I wanted to shake the contempt out of her. “Don’t you realize I’m trying to help you? I’m trying to find exports to help your economy!”
Even though I still gripped her by the wrist and could easily call the authorities on her head for the crime she freely confessed to, the woman looked at me as if I were no more than an annoying pest. “You think you’re going to save the north?” she said, her voice dripping with antipathy.
“I—I am.” I felt unseated. “I’m bringing a new trade commission from the mainland here.”
“How long is that gonna take?” She chatted idly, almost sounding bored.
“A few weeks to go there and back . . .” I started.
“A few weeks and then everything’s solved?”
“Well, no,” I allowed. “It’ll take a while, but—”
“What’s going to stop me from starving in the meantime?” she said, the bite back in her voice.
I stuttered at her, no answer rising on my tongue.
My hand slacked, and she wriggled free but didn’t try to run away. “Here,” she said, reaching into her pocket and spilling my coins on the ground between us. “Go make the world a better place.”
“I—I’m sorry,” I said, but she was already walking away.
I knelt to pick up the coins. From the shadows of the alley across from me, I saw small eyes staring at me. I stacked the coins up on the sidewalk, a tiny silver tower, then purposefully turned my back and walked in the opposite direction. Scampering feet raced out, coins clinking, and faded back into the silent dark.