“Left or right?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Mist said, watching her as if waiting for her to see a joke. “You choose.”
The Way seemed to circle the pond, all around the clearing. To the left were the mooning lovers, who had adjourned their mutual adoration to a bench. Thaile turned right, looking up at Mist’s smile distrustfully as he fell into step alongside her. The sun slid behind a cloud, shadowing the world.
“The way out is exactly at the far side? I mean, the path goes all the way around?”
He smirked. “You’ll see. Sure you don’t want my cloak?” Clearly there was something about this mysterious Way that he expected to surprise her. She did not want to be surprised by this overlarge, fancies-himself canoeist. His obvious man-interest was flattering, and not entirely unwelcome, but somehow it felt like trespass, usurpation . . . like wrong man. Tugging at her hair in confusion, she refused the offer of his cloak and just strode along in silence. Puzzled and a little hurt, Mist paced at her side, taking two steps to her three.
Apparently the Way did not go all around the Meeting Place as she had thought. Soon it abandoned the parkland, and led them off into the forest. Mist continued to carry his cloak over one shoulder, although the air was much cooler here in the woods. Obviously if Thaile was warm enough, then he must show that he was. He had enough tact to remain silent, and the half-tasted memory at the back of her mind began to niggle at her again. So it was she who spoke first.
“Three other novices, you said?”
“Grub, Maggot, and Worm.”
She laughed. Just when Mist’s placidity was most reminding her of her father, he would make a genuinely funny remark. Had Gaib possessed a sense of humor at Mist’s age? “What’s wrong with them?”
Mist shrugged. “They may be bearable in four or five years. Two of them, anyway.”
“How old are you, Mist?”
He glanced down at her thoughtfully. “Nineteen. You?”
“Er—Sixteen.” She meant she would be sixteen at the beginning of the rainy season, but obviously this was late in the rainy season, because the leaves were green and all those flowers . . . Yet she was sure she was sixteen already. Birthday? Winterfest? God of Madness, why was she so confused today? She shook her head, half expecting to feel hair swinging against her neck. ”I’m old for a novice, of course,” Mist said, and she Felt his embarrassment. “I was late getting my word, because there weren’t many Gifted families around Dad’s Place. I was scouting out Places of my own already. Then a recorder came by and said I mustn’t, not yet. Sent me on a three-day trip up the Fastwater Valley. I had to hang around for months before the old relic finally got around to dying. After all that, he decided I didn’t have Faculty—the recorder did, I mean. So I started exploring again. Took my time, though. Don’t rush into things, usually.”
Thaile thought Novice Mist would never rush into anything. He had a large sense of inertia about him.
“Why are you here, if you haven’t got Faculty?”
“Another recorder came by. Decided maybe I did.” He shrugged again—more embarrassment. “So now I suppose I get told another word, and then they decide for certain.”
“Do you want to stay here or go home?”
The pale yellow eyes looked down at her again. “Might be nice to be a sorcerer. Easier than picking cotton.”
She agreed doubtfully. She wanted to know what his talent was, but he would ask her the same question. Talents were dangerous topics for conversation.
“I can’t decide,” he said. “I thought I d found my Place, see? Was trying to choose between three girls. One of them was very like you.” He fell silent, lost in reverie. In a few moments his lust became deafening. She wondered why it did not disturb her more than it did. But she knew it was just young man’s dreaming; in a way, she could almost feel sorry for him. The curse of Faculty had disrupted his life just as much as hers. The forest was deep and dim, smelling woodsy, full of trees that were strange to her, towering like giants. Here and there were more flowers, also strange. Shafts of light struck down from the high roof to throw swathes of brilliance on ferns and bushes. A curious nostalgia chilled her spirits.
Mist, to his credit, noticed her shiver. “Here, take my cloak!” He tried to drape it over her and contrive a mild hug at the same time.
She refused. It would trail on the ground, she pointed out. “Well, it’s not far now,” he said. He sniffed loudly. “I love the smell of the air here! There’s all sorts of forest in the College, but this is my favorite. It’s like home.”
“Not my home.”
“No, I know. You’re a hill-country girl.”
“How do you know that?”
Mist smirked. “Because I was shown the Place I have to take you to, and the woods there aren’t like this!” He began naming trees for her—monkeypod and ebony and hydrangea and breadfruit. Some of them seemed vaguely familiar, although she was sure that they had not grown near the Gaib Place. Maybe she’d seen them on that journey she didn’t want to think about?
The Way continued ahead, white and smooth, winding out of sight. It felt gritty below her feet, but not unpleasant. She walked in silence for a while, trying very hard to shake off the aftertaste-of-nightmare feeling.
The Way tipped down a hill. She heard voices, low at first, soon becoming louder. Cheerful, laughing voices. Brightness showed ahead, the trees thinned out and then stepped aside altogether to reveal a small valley. And people! Thaile stopped. “I don’t like crowds,” she said.
There were many, many people ahead—twenty or more, perhaps—as many as she had ever met all at once, at a wedding or a funeral. Men and women both, they milled like starlings among the colorful stalls and tables. She could Feel none of them.
“No pixie likes crowds!” Mist said cheerfully, an expression of certainty on his so-ordinary face.
“Does anyone?”
“Imps do, I’m told. That’s one of the things we get taught, apparently—all about other peoples, Outside. Can’t see why they matter, since they’re not allowed in Thume. But this is the Market. You get clothes here, and food if you want it. I mean, we can cook for ourselves at home if we prefer. I’m not much of a cook, so I eat the ready-made meals at the Commons. Much easier. ”
Screwing up her courage, she went on at his side, letting the crowd swallow her up. She discovered that it was not like a funeral. Nobody spoke to her, she did not have to meet people’s eyes, and soon she was caught up in the wonder of all the things displayed on the stalls: fruits and vegetables, mysterious tools, and clothing—explosions of colors and fabrics like she had never seen.
“Sorcery?” she whispered.
Mist nodded, displaying much more confidence on the outside than she knew he was feeling inside. “Yes, it’s sorcery. Take whatever you want. You could work all day and never empty one of those tables. They fill up as fast as you clear them. Now, what color do you fancy?”
For the first time, Thaile began to feel properly excited. Here were riches such as her parents had never known in their lives. The women wore long skirts of amber or green or brown, and frilly blouses of lighter shades. They were picking over the wares and helping themselves, trading nothing in return that she could see. There was no one in attendance to trade to. She caught a few surprised, appraising glances in her direction and suddenly felt awkward in her dreary rough-spun frock.
“Try that one!” Mist suggested, pointing to a rich auburn fabric.
She held it up to admire it. It was a full-length dress. “That’s nice,” he said.
“It’s too big for me.”
“No, it isn’t. You chose it, so it’ll fit perfectly. Look!” He tossed his cloak on the table and pulled off another, in royal blue and silver. He held it against himself. “See? It’s the right length, and there can’t be many men here tall as me.”
She must be plumper than she had thought, then. She must have filled out lately . . . on the journey, perhaps? The journey was very vague in her mind. Glancing over the other women, she saw no one wearing anything as bright as that auburn. And none of the men was as dazzling as Mist. She replaced the dress. ”Start with shoes,” Mist said, “over here.”
She rarely wore shoes, but everyone else was wearing shoes. He made a few suggestions and soon she was clutching three pairs, shiny leather beauties. One pair had shiny metal buckles that must be worth a fortune.