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said.
    “Well, you can’t, not with your leg and your head and all,” Eleret replied, her voice strengthening as she spoke. “I can handle it, Pa.”
    “Tamm couldn’t.”
    The girl at the table raised her head. “Eleret won’t be in the army, Pa. And somebody should go.”
    “The Imperial Guard will send you your mother’s things,” Gralith said, a little taken aback by this unexpected development. “There’s no need for any of you to go to Ciaron to get them.”
    “Maybe you don’t think so,” Eleret said, “but we do.”
    “If this Guard of yours is so willing to help, why didn’t they send Tamm’s things along with the news?” her father added.
    “Climeral could only send a brief message,” Gralith said. “It would take a circle of Adepts to actually transport an object.” Then, seeing their blank expressions, he asked, “I’m sorry; did you think the news came by messenger?”
    “Oh,” Eleret said. “But you told us Ma died three weeks ago.”
    “It took that long for word to get back to the capital,” Gralith said, understanding in turn. “Climeral sent it to me this morning, as soon as he was certain.”
    Eleret shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. One of us has to go, and Pa can’t. That leaves me.”
    “It’s not an easy trip,” Gralith warned. “You’ll have to go overland, so it will take at least a month. And even in Ciaron you may run into people who…dislike Cilhar intensely.”
    “Syaski, who’d rather see a Cilhar dead than not, you mean,” Eleret said, nodding. “We have trouble with them now and again, in spite of the Emperor’s treaty. They’re a little more careful about when and how they raid, that’s all.”
    “It’d be harder for them to pull their tricks in Ciaron,” Eleret’s father put in. “Right there under the Emperor’s nose, so to speak. But you pack a full kit anyway, Eleret. Weapons don’t do you no good unless you’re carrying them.”
    “Yes, Pa.” Eleret looked over at the two children. “Better get those arrows finished tonight, Nilly; I’ll take a full quiver with me when I leave, and you’ll want replacements.”
    “You’re determined to do this?” Gralith said.
    “Any reason I shouldn’t be?”
    Gralith made a helpless gesture, unable to put his misgivings into words. “There’s some wild country between here and the city. You should at least wait for the spring caravans.”
    “I’ve traveled wild country before, and I want to see this finished soon.”
    “Very well,” Gralith said, giving up at last. He sighed. “If you have a map, I’ll show you the best route. It’s the least I can do.”
    “I’d be grateful for your help,” Eleret replied, and gestured him toward one of the stools beside the table.

ONE
    C IARON SMELLED STRANGE. It wasn’t the saltwater smell of the sea, or the fishy tang of the docks, though both permeated the air even at the farthest inland edge of the city. No, Eleret thought, the odor that made her nose twitch came from the mingling of coal smoke with frying onions, stale beer, and attar of roses, and from the reek of hot metal, warm horse dung, and sweaty clothes—and all the other smells of too many people living in the same place. She wondered how the folk passing by her managed not to notice, and whether she, too, would adjust if she stayed long enough in Ciaron.
    The noise was almost as bad as the smell. Wagons rumbled past, wheels clattering against the gray stone pavement while their loads of jars and barrels clattered against each other. Men and women called out in singsong voices, praising a confusing array of wares for sale. Shouting children ran through the crowd on mysterious errands, dodging people and horses and carts. If she did not listen too closely, the sounds blended into a continuous hum of activity.
    A man in a gray cloak pushed by her and Eleret gave herself a mental slap. Sunset was only a few hours away, and if she didn’t get moving she’d have nowhere to spend