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thin iron twig sprouted between two of her fingers. “
I
think it’s going to keep growing. That’s how it feels to me.”
    â€œYou are
certain
that it will grow?” asked the
mimander
, his voice slightly muffled by his yellow veil. He walked farther into the smithy, bowed to Rosethorn and Frostpine, and held a yellow-gloved hand over the iron vine. “Yes—I can feel the power. This is like nothing I have known.”
    â€œMay we help you, honored
mimander
?” Frostpine inquired.
    The older woman spoke quietly to Polyam, who announced, “Tenth Caravan Idaram will pay, in the coin of Emelan, a gold maja for this thing.”
    Daja frowned at the Traders. A gold maja was half a year’s income for a poor family. That was startling enough. What was more startling yet was that sheknew Trader custom: that sum had to be the lowest bid the newcomers could think she might accept.
    â€œIt must be cleansed of contact with a
trangshi
,” the
mimander
remarked to Polyam and the other Trader.
    â€œIt was a
trangshi
that made it,” snapped Rosethorn. Tris beamed at her.
    â€œEven a rat has fur and meat,” Polyam replied, her eyes bright. “A gold maja and a gold astrel. We would offer more, but there is the cost of the herbs and oils for the cleansing to be considered.”
    Three hundred silver crescents
! Sandry told Daja through their magical tie.
It’s a dowry, or new took, or even gold to work with. Maybe you ought to take it?
    Think it over
, Briar advised.
You have something they want. Make ’em pay through the nose. That’s a fine revenge, after how Traders dealt with you
.
    â€œIt’s not for sale,” Frostpine told Polyam and her companions. “We need to study it before
any
decision is reached.”
    â€œA gold maja and two gold astrels,” the older woman said. “Not a copper more. The
trangshi
may have the night to consider it.” She walked away, head high. The
mimander
hesitated. He might have been looking at Daja, but it was hard for her to tell through the fine yellow veil on his face. Then he, too, followed the older woman. Polyam shifted position to let him goby.
    â€œYou needn’t think
gilav
Chandrisa will go up from that price,” she said to Frostpine. “Hers is the last word in any bargaining.”
    What’s a
gilav? Tris inquired silently.
    Caravan boss
, answered Briar.
Like the captain of a ship
.
    Daja looked at her vine. One tendril had wrapped around her finger, catlike. She felt a bubbling emotion in her chest, one that threatened to cut off her breath. They can’t have it two ways, she told herself. Either I don’t exist, or I do. They must want this very badly, to make an offer to a
trangshi
.
    â€œWe Blue Traders have a saying,” she remarked, staring off to Polyam’s side. “When three parties bargain, no one wins. Tenth Caravan Idaram must bargain with me directly.
Me
. Talk to Daja Kisubo the
trangshi
, or there will be no talk at all.”
    Frostpine grinned and put an arm around her shoulders. Sandry clapped; Briar whistled his approval. Even Rosethorn and Tris smiled.
    Polyam shrugged. “Since I heard nothing, I can transmit no offers that are impossible to meet.” Turning, she hobbled off after the other Traders.
    Daja tightened her grip on the iron, wishing she could go with them, could return to the kind of life where she had always known the rules.
    We’re
your people now
, Sandry told her in mind-talk.
    They threw you out
, added Briar.
Or were you forgetting?
    â€œFrostpine!” A short man with gray-bristled cheeks stood in the doorway, glaring at them through dark eyes buried in wrinkles. He dressed like a craftsman in a knee-length green tunic, loose brown breeches, and leather slippers; a round white cap covered his hair. “I never bargained for your
apprentice
doing magic here, all unsupervised.”
    â€œNeither did we,”