Point of Hopes

They made their way across the full width of the fairground without result, though Laci stopped to spend some of his coins on stick candy and a cup of thick, sweet Silklands tea. At the northern edge, where the linen‑sellers had their booths, the group of ru

“That’s good for shirts, sir,” the woman behind the counter said. “Wears like iron, and only an aster a yard. You won’t get a better shirt for two seillings.”

Rathe nodded, not really listening. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the ru

They had gotten a little ahead of him, were just turning into the row of stalls that sold needles and fine thread. Asheri’s doing, Rathe thought, and did his best not to hurry after them. She took her time making her way along the rows of stalls, obviously drawn in by the displays: silk and linen and even cotton thread in every thickness and every color of the rainbow; packets of pins wrapped in bright dyed paper; polishing glasses, dark and light; needles and needle‑cases and shears in every size from the length of a finger to heavy iron things nearly as long as a woman’s forearm. Biatris stayed close to her side, though from the glazed look on her face, she would rather have been somewhere else, but the rest of the ru

“Come on, will you?” Her clear voice floated above the noise of the fair, audible along the length of the row.

Biatris lifted a hand, and then touched Asheri’s shoulder. The younger girl sighed, and moved reluctantly away from the array of threads. Rathe gri

The astrologer paused then, and gestured for the girls to precede him down an alley that ran between two of the larger stalls. Asheri hesitated for a fraction of a second, but Biatris stepped firmly on, and the younger girl followed, the astrologer in his black robe trailing after them both. Rathe swore under his breath, and looked around wildly. Monteia was already moving to put herself at the far end of the alley, and Houssaye and Andry were in place as well. The sight was steadying, and Rathe made himself walk casually past the alley‑mouth. He could do nothing more than glance in, not without rousing suspicion, but in that instant he caught a glimpse of the two girls standing fascinated, eyes on the orrery held by the astrologer. He was adjusting one of the rings that gave the planetary positions, and seemed to be explaining something at the same time. And then Rathe was past, and made himself stop at the nearest stall, trying to pretend to study the display of needles.

“Andry’s gone round the other end with the chief,” Houssaye said, softly, and leaned over the other man’s shoulder. His parasol was neatly folded now, Rathe saw, ready for action.

“Good,” Rathe answered. “Is there any way of getting closer?”

Houssaye shook his head, his face reflecting the same frustration Rathe was feeling. “Not without being seen. Gods–” He broke off then, shaking his head, and Rathe laid a hand on his shoulder.

“There’s no other way in or out,” he said, with more confidence than he felt. “So we wait.”

It seemed an interminable time before the girls reappeared, walking solemnly on either side of the astrologer. Both looked thoughtful, and Rathe found himself holding his breath. If the astrologer has already placed some geas on them–but that was supposed to be impossible, or at best extremely difficult without the proper tools and carefully chosen stars, he reminded himself. The astrologer said something to the girls, and then turned away, heading toward the center of the fair.

Rathe nudged Houssaye. “Follow him,” he said, and himself moved up to join the ru

“Are you all right?” he said, to Asheri and Biatris, and both girls nodded.

“It wasn’t anything, really,” Biatris said, and Rathe held up his hand.

“We’ll talk when we get back to the station. Where’s Jacme and Laci?”

“Laci had to piss,” Fasquelle answered, and Salineis loomed over her shoulder.

“They’re with me, Nico. The chief says we should get back to the station. She’ll meet us there.”

Rathe nodded. “We’ll take a boat,” he said, and added silently, and I’ll pay for it myself if the station won’t.

It took a few minutes to find a boat that would take the entire group upstream, but eventually they found a small barge and Rathe herded everyone aboard. Despite the current, it didn’t take long to reach the landing at the Rivermarket, and Rathe led them quickly back through the streets to the station house. To his surprise, Monteia was there ahead of them, sitting scowling at the main desk. Her frown eased a little as she saw them, and she gestured for the ru

“Sal, shut the door. Nico, where’s Houssaye?”

“I told him to follow the astrologer,” Rathe answered, and Monteia nodded.

“Good luck to him, then. All right, what happened?”

Biatris and Asheri exchanged glances, and the older girl said, “Not a whole lot, really. Asheri asked if he read stars, and what he’d charge to read ours. And he said it’d be a demming for both of us, and asked what our stars were. I told him mine, and he said that, since I knew mine so well, he could give me a proper reading, with his orrery. So we went between a couple of stalls where it was quiet, and he did. He didn’t say much, though, not much more than I could’ve gotten from a broadsheet.”

“I told him mine, too,” Asheri said, “and he gave me a hard time about them, kept on about was I sure that was right.” She made a face. “I think he could tell I was southriver born, and wanted to make sure I wasn’t lying. But I asked him if he thought I would ever be able to join the Embroiderers’ Guild, and he did a reading for that. He had a really fancy orrery, though.”