Daja wasn’t sure that Niko was right. Frostpine didn’t get into a swivet because he hadn’t been asked.
“You know what I’d like to do tomorrow?” Tris announced. “I’d like to go see that Dalburz glacier. Could we?” she asked Lark and Niko. “I’ve never seen one.”
“I have this to do,” Sandry pointed out. It was time for a break. Sliding out of the loom, she walked around, rubbing the back of her neck.
“You should spend a few hours away from your loom in the morning,” Lark told her. “You will be feeling today’s magical effort. A ride will be just what you need to refresh yourself, and then you can work in the afternoon.”
“I could guide you, if you wish to make the trip.” Polyam stood in the open door, a package in her unscarred hand. She nodded to the adults in greeting. “Our caravan passes it all the time.”
“I actually like the sound of this,” Niko said with approval. “Tris should see a glacier, and the experience would be good for all of us. Lark and I will come, too.”
“Well, if I’m to go riding in the morning, I’d best get back to work now,” Sandry commented with a sigh. Lifting up the backstrap, she stepped into it and sank to the floor, pulling her loom taut.
Polyam walked over for a better look at her cloth. “It’s a mess,” she said critically. “You were fine at the start, but your threads are getting all confused.” Her frown crinkled the yellow-marked scars on her face. “And how can the stripes be colored? Your thread isn’t.”
“It’s a long story,” replied Lark, sitting with a basket of needlework. “Can we offer you something to drink?”
The Trader shook her head. “I came only to bring a new trade-token, since it looks as if I will buy my old one with the purchase of the main piece.” She walked over to the iron piece, her staff thumping on the carpet. “It works fast, this vine.”
“And it does so all by itself,” Daja said. “It stopped drawing on my magic once Frostpine got it to let me go.”
Polyam bowed, offering her the package she carried. “I hope you will take this as our new trade-token.”
Her gift was wrapped in yellow silk, as were all important Trader gifts. Carefully Daja undid the knots. The cloth fell away to reveal a hand-sized figure of a long-tailed, spotted cat in palest green jade. Tris, Lark, and Briar gasped as Daja showed it to them. When the boy stretched out his hands, Daja let him take the figure. He examined it from all angles, running his fingers over the maker’s mark carved in its base.
“It’s called a snow leopard,” Polyam explained. “Shy animals. They live in the southern mountains of Yanjing. They’re actually white with black spots.”
“Very nice,” said Niko. “A worthy offering, don’t you think, Daja?”
Daja nodded. “Yours?” she asked Polyam.
The Trader smiled. “No—it came from the caravan’s goods,” she replied, her good eye dancing.
“Then I will prize it,” Daja replied, with a smile. She knew how such things worked. That she was offered a gift from the caravan’s goods meant that she was rising in the opinion of the gilav. “You’re still doing the bargaining, though, aren’t you?” If they thought enough of what she had to sell that they would offer her a gift like this, they also might want a high-status daka bargaining, not Polyam. I don’t want that, Daja realized. I like her. It was a startling thought.
Polyam shook her head. “They would have to qunsuanen the dakas. Why waste the time, and the paint”—she gestured to herself—”when I’ve gone through it already?”
Briar’s lips moved as he did calculations. “I might get five silver astrels from a top-of-the-ladder pump for it,” he said, handing the carving to Daja. “That means it’s worth maybe a gold maja on the market.”
Someone—Tris—gasped.
“I told gilav Chandrisa you’d probably sell at three gold majas,” Polyam commented. “Don’t make a fool of me.” She smothered a yawn with one hand. “I’ll meet you by the stables in the morning. For this, I believe I can even scrape together another bargaining meal.” With a cheerful wave, she left them. Daja danced a jig, thinking of more Trader food.
“Polyam is enjoying this too much,” said Niko sourly. “As are you four.”
“We’ve been good all day,” protested Briar. “We didn’t use our magic without someone to watch us.” Daja, standing behind him, saw his fingers cross behind his back. She agreed; if none of the castle’s people had mentioned the appearance of a steam-vent in one of the courtyards, she and Briar weren’t about to. “We’ve earned a bit of fun, don’t you think?” Briar asked.
“I don’t understand,” Tris said, her voice hoarse. “At first she acted like she almost hated Daja, but now she goes to all this trouble, getting food and offering to ride with us—” She stopped, coughing.
“I think partly she does it because she can,” Lark explained when Tris caught her breath. “Because they let her. As wirok she’s a despised person. They give her their leavings—”
“And their scorn,” said Rosethorn quietly. She had been seated at a desk, writing.
Lark nodded. “But now, she’s the only avenue for them to buy something they want. She’s getting better food out of them than she might see for weeks, not to mention access to trade goods. They’re listening to her now. I’d take advantage, in her shoes.”