they were only cursory things, events without details, as if he’d hoped she would take no interest in life on the spans. He’d answered questions when confronted, but he had never volunteered anything.
She wanted to know about the south. Had they gotten into trouble there? Had her mother been with them then? Had something happened on the southern spans that led to…led to—and once again, she didn’t know. She didn’t know the specifics at all.
She looked up to ask him, but Soter had left her and entered the building, disappearing into its depths.
She dusted off her feet, then wearily stood, lifted the case, and climbed up the steps. The slickly polished floor of the porch like unbroken water reflected the case and her upside down.
Diverus made no move to follow her. He stared at the rows of empty shoes as if they troubled him.
“Come on,” she said, but in response he only shifted his weight uncertainly from leg to leg. “Diverus,” she inveigled, “I’ll leave you outside if you don’t climb the steps right now.” He slipped off his own shoes, placing them against hers, watching her as if fearful she might vanish in an instant. He climbed up beside her.
“I just play music,” he said, as if that explained something.
“Tonight you do that in here.” She lifted her puppet case. Side by side, they went in.
The glossy floors extended all the way into the depths, making the place seem huge, reflectively doubling the height of the translucent wall panels. The light melting through them rendered the interior into a state of permanent, golden dusk. People sat cross-legged on the floor at low tables, eating—at least it was her impression that they were eating—and drinking. They remained no more than shapes, lumps in silk tucked into corners and alcoves of which there seemed to be an impossible number. She wondered how they could see well enough to know what they were eating. Or maybe they didn’t care. She couldn’t tell if they were watching her, or even whether they noticed her. Perhaps not, if they couldn’t identify more about her than she could of them. She might have been nothing more than the scent of barbecued eel, collecting for an instant above the tables.
Then out of the shadows the proprietor emerged, coming right up to them—a small man with crooked teeth and a sloping forehead, not much hair, and bright, eager eyes. Like two smooth white gems in that dusky light, his eyes glittered. “Yes, you come, you come,” he said. He plucked at her sleeve, at Diverus. “You both come!” He tugged them still deeper into his establishment.
It hadn’t looked all that impressive from the front, but Eat This and Have a Cup of Tea proved to incorporate more rooms in its depths than she might have imagined. She soon realized that they were walking around a central area, the source of the wan light beyond the screens, and guessed that it must be Soter’s courtyard. At the point she decided she had been led through a complete circuit, the proprietor abruptly turned and pushed back a screen, revealing another room, this one with mats on the floor.
There, seated beneath a low table, Soter twisted around as they entered. He held a small cup in one hand, and a small pitcher in the other, caught in the act of pouring. “About time,” he said. “I’m famished.”
The meal proved to be sumptuous and exotic. Neither Leodora nor Diverus had ever tasted anything like it, and once sampled, she could not imagine never having it again. When she raised the question of the central space they had seemingly walked around, Soter confirmed that it was the courtyard where they would perform. “It is outdoors but protected from the parade. Oh, yes, Mutsu told me about the parade. A horrifying thing, to be avoided at all costs. Your very life could be forfeit.”
“Mutsu. You remember his name?”
“Naturally.” He sipped his tea under her critical gaze, which exerted a kind of pressure on him. He set down his cup. “The truth is, he came up to me, called out my name, and said, Don’t you remember me? I’m Mutsu. So, there. He remembers me. All I remembered was the banner. Satisfied?”
“For once,” replied Leodora.
They ate awhile in stiff silence after that, until Diverus asked: “What happens now?”
“Now,” said Leodora as she stepped around a cart peddling fruit, “we hunt for stories. It’s what my father used to do wherever he went. It’s how