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If I can find a way to buy food so you don’t have to hunt for it, will you do lessons with me each day? At least for a few hours?”
    â€œWhy not,” Astrid said, as if she believed that would never happen.
    The next morning when the girls went out to hunt, Miri stayed behind to do some sewing. She finished converting the yellow dress into a tunic shirt with leggings while the girls were still out, so she walked toward the village.
    Miri’s village on Mount Eskel was built from rocks stacked and secured together to make houses. But there were no rocks in the swamp. Though a wood grew nearby, those trees were all thin, wispy things with crooked branches. They must have been impractical for building houses because the Lesser Alvans only used reeds.
    The houses had thick reed-bundle frames, wrapped and draped with woven mats. The roof mats were tightly woven to keep out the rain, while the wall mats were filled with holes to invite breezes. Most of the huts were barely large enough for a couple of people to lie down head to feet.
    The ground of the village island appeared to be swampland covered by a strewn reed flooring. It was not until Miri was near the middle of the village and felt the ground shift beneath her that she understood she was not on land at all. The entire island was made of stacked reeds floating in the water. How thick would the false island have to be in order to float?
    Miri spotted two smaller reed islands nearby. She could see the top layer of reeds was still green, then beneath that lay the golden white of dried reeds. The oldest reeds in the water were a dirty gray. The reeds on the bottom must decompose in the water. Miri saw a woman laying down fresh reeds around a house. Miri asked if she could direct her to Fat Hofer. The womanpointed but did not seem eager to engage in conversation with a stranger.
    Miri knew she was on the main island of the village because it hosted the chapel. Fourteen pillars made of thick reed bundles stood straight, bending and meeting at the top to form a peaked roof. Woven mats formed the walls and roof.
    Beside the chapel sat a man, his bald head protected with a cap, his legs covered with a cloth. He rested his hands on his belly, his lids half-closed as if he were about to nap.
    â€œFat Hofer?” Miri said. She had seen far fatter men in Asland, but he did look in good health, clearly not scrabbling to keep from starvation.
    He squinted at her, lifting the brim of his cap against the sun. “I heard a lady of Asland had come to Lesser Alva. How good of you to attend me so soon after your arrival.”
    Miri squatted beside him. “You don’t absorb flies.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œYou don’t work yet you don’t starve. Which means people pay you. For what? You sit here, seemingly doing nothing. But you’re not doing nothing, are you? You’re watching, you’re learning, and then you trade information or advice for coins or food. You
know
things.”
    Fat Hofer laughed, his folded hands shaking on hisbelly. “What an outrageous claim! I won’t even take the time to deny it.”
    â€œThe king’s officials send the sisters an allowance every month. They should have enough for food and clothing at least. But they have nothing. Please tell me what happens to their coin.”
    He lowered his hat back over his eyes and put out his hand, palm up. “Nothing gets you nothing, my lady.”
    â€œI don’t have any coin, but I do have a silk dress I can trade you,” she said.
    â€œWhat good is a silk dress here? Come talk to me when you have a coin or at least food to share.”
    Perhaps she could sell a dress to someone else.
    She returned to the linder house and went through her bag, picking out a dress not too fancy but nice enough, and laid it over a windowsill so the humid air might work out the wrinkles. Miri used their outhouse and cleaned it, and then went for a short walk to hunt