Page 25 of Minor Works of Meda

“Did they steal your jewelry, too?” he asked in a low voice. “I’m sorry. It must have been frightening.”

“I wasn’t wearing any,” I snapped. “I didn’t even realize I’d been robbed until I tried to pay. They must have taken the purse right out of my bag.”

“Maybe it just fell out?”

“Unlikely.” I followed him down an unmarked turn, the second one he’d taken. “Are you sure we’re going the right way?”

“Yes, I memorized the city map.”

“You what?”

“Well, I had a lot of free time,” he said, as if that were a reasonable way to spend it. “We’re almost there. What are you doing with your hands?”

“Nothing,” I said, and dropped the hold I’d been practicing.

Sure enough, one turn later we were in front of a huge fenced-in pavilion, a wide roof supported by rows of marble columns. An arched sign above the gate read All The World—In Your Hand, but there was no light coming from inside, no figures visible beyond the fence. Oraik stepped up and grabbed the gate, first pushing and then pulling, and finally muttering a dissatisfied little grunt of annoyance when it didn’t give.

“It looks closed,” I said. I shouldn’t have cared, but I felt a little disappointed myself. I’d spent the walk dreaming of some fabulous book of enchantments that would suddenly broaden my entire world.

“No, it opens at sundown,” he said. “Why is the gate locked? This is nonsense. Excuse me?” he turned and waved at a pair of women walking down the street. “How do we get in? Is there another entrance?”

“They closed it for renovation,” one of them answered, calling to him without approaching. “You have to come back next week.”

“What? Impossible,” Oraik moaned. “But this is terrible. I only have tonight.” He threw up his hands in defeat, then pounded his palms flat against the gate.

“Well, that’s that,” I said awkwardly. “Should we head back?” We’d walked at least twenty minutes to get to the market.

“But what if I don’t come back here? What if I never get to see it now?” His whole posture looked defeated. He slumped against the gate.

“Well, until half an hour ago you couldn’t even decide if you wanted to go.”

“That’s true. But then I set my heart on it.” He sighed heavily. “Sin-boats it is. They aren’t much further. Come on.”

“Wait, but I didn’t want to—”

Oraik was already walking, arms crossed over his chest, shoulders still slumped.

I had the money to pay for a room. I didn’t have to follow him. But it was that or wander around alone until I found somewhere to stay, and hope I didn’t get robbed or worse along the way.

Besides. I was perhaps a little curious. And I needed a drink badly. I was finding life much more tolerable if I gave myself no space to think about what had happened.

We emerged out from an unlit alley onto one of the curving main roads. Four of the Nameless walked down the street in tight formation, faces shrouded and armor nearly black in the shadows. The sight of the guards made me realize I was still on edge, even with all Oraik’s rings put away. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Except Oraik turned his head towards them, gasped, and grabbed my arm. He yanked me back into the alley and pressed himself flat against the wall, with me in front of him.

“What’s wrong?” My heart pounded. He must have seen something else, something I hadn’t noticed.

“Nothing,” he whispered back. “Just wait a moment.”

“Are you hiding from the Nameless?” I hissed. “Why?” He was too clueless to be a thief, too ostentatious to be a fugitive. Maybe he wasn’t a merchant’s son after all.

“It’s no matter. Hush.” His eyes were glued on the street. As they passed he slouched down and turned to face the other way. I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms, trying to look nonchalant. Then the Nameless were past us.

“Why did we hide?”

“No reason.” He crept back towards the mouth of the street.

“Tell me. Now. Or I’m leaving.” I glared at his back. I wasn’t about to ruin my chances of making it in with the Order by cavorting with some criminal. He turned towards me, saw my expression, and wilted.

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