It's been a while since I wrote this chapter... Is there possibly something I was going to say in this note that pertains to this chapter? Yes, that's likely. If there is something, do I remember it? No, not at all.

As a reminder, I am going to post an extra chapter next week, on Christmas, so keep an eye out for a post on both the 25th and the 27th.

Please let me know what you think of this fic!

-owl

As soon as Rollan got the guards to follow him away from their post, Tarik led Conor and Abeke into the market. None of the people around them gave them more than a passing glance. The three of them ended up in a line for food of some sort.

"That'll be three coppers." As the man behind the stall handed the food that they had asked for, looking up at them for the first time, his face brightened. "Puppeteers?" he exclaimed. "Where are you doing your show?"

Tarik returned the smile as he handed over the payment. "An inn outside the East Gate."

"Oh! Bright Moon! Best rice wine in the area! Another reason to come watch your show. This will make my daughter's day!"

Once they had finished the transaction, they made their way to the tower where they were going to wait for Rollan, munching on the food, which was a type of meat pie. Turns out that Rollan was right, even Zhong had a pie-seller in their markets. Not that she would tell him that, though. He certainly didn't need his ego inflated.

It was cooler in the shade of the tower, which, coupled with the fact that they were still damp from wading their way into the city, meant Abeke was chilly. Downright cold, even. The other two didn't seem as cold as she was, but then again, Conor hadn't grown up in the heat of Nilo's sun. And, even if Tarik was from Nilo — and she wasn't sure about that yet, as he also looked almost as if he could be from there or even Southern Zhong — he has been used to a wide range of temperatures.

"He did say the shady side, right?" she asked.

Conor nodded. "I hope he hasn't gotten himself caught. He's been distracted since Meilin left."

Tarik shrugged. "I wouldn't worry about him. He's perfectly capable. There are some skills that stick with you, regardless of what else is going on, or how long it's been since you've used them."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Rollan said, popping out of nowhere with a grin on his face and his jacket the right way out once again.

"I suppose you have lots of practice in things like this," Abeke commented.

Rollan made a gesture with his hand, rolling it face down from side to side.

"What does that mean?"

"Street sign. It means 'sort or' or 'not so much.'"

"What did you do with the guards?" Tarik asked, forestalling any response from Abeke.

"Oh, I brought them on a wild goose chase that ended by them falling into a cesspit that the market people use for their garbage. And it was particularly bad, judging by the smell."

Abeke almost laughed at the look of pride on Rollan's face. "We use hand signals at home, too. It's not always a good idea to be talking while hunting," she said, picking up the dropped conversation.

As they made their way out of the temporary market, then through a more permanent marketplace, Rollan and Abeke traded Amayan street signals and Niloan hunting signs. What Rollan knew to be a suggestion of pick pocketing, Abeke took as a sign to take cover. The conversation drew to a close as they approached the East Gate.

Two guards were there, inspecting everyone that passed through the gate. Similar to the guards that Rollan had distracted earlier, both of them had a spirit animal. One was a dog and the other was a spider that had no business being as large as it was. Nearby, within shouting distance, was a whole cluster of guards, numbering nearly a dozen.

"Remember your names," Tarik hissed at them.

They had all come up with fake names for their cover story. Tarik was Mosten, Conor was Olk, Rollan was Snan, and Abeke was Pahan. Did it really matter that they had fake names, especially if they were likely to never see any of these people again? Probably not, but on the off chance that their names, not their appearances, had been circulated by the Conquerors, this was safer.

"Name and business?" The first guard demanded.

"Mosten," said Tarik. "Shadow puppeteer going to do a show at the Inn of the Bright Moon. These are my apprentices, Olk, Snan, and Pahan."

The dog left its spot next to one of the guards and began sniffing around all four of them. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and everyone passed the inspection. Everyone other than Abeke, that was. The dog kept coming back to her, occasionally growling deep in its throat.

"Smagish doesn't like something about you."

Abeke shrugged tensely. "I was just playing with a kitten, but Mosten wouldn't let me buy it."

"Five silvers is robbery," Tarik backed up Abeke's story, shaking his head.

The guard's eyes lit up. "Five silver pieces? That's your toll, for playing with cats and wasting my time."

Though he didn't look happy about it, Tarik dug out the five pieces and handed them to the guard. Then they were finally allowed to go through the gate after they had to give the other guard their three remaining silvers. Even then, she was unhappy because the other guard had been given more. Rollan had suggested that he give her one, then they would both have four, but he didn't like that, and an argument broke out.

On the other side of the gate, beyond the wall of the city, Abeke was surprised to see huts — not houses, they weren't big enough to be called houses —built practically against the wall around Xin Kao Dai. If the families near the fishing wharf were poor, the people here must truly have nothing to their names. Eventually they reached the Inn of the Bright Moon.

In the run-down courtyard in front of the inn, were at least a hundred Conqueror soldiers. Their spirit animals prowled at their feet and between the barrels that were being used as makeshift tables.

Abeke sucked in a breath. The whole place was an enemy camp!