Snowblind {complete}

Dry- Enemy

Chowa swept into the workshop in apron-covered silks. Lanna looked up from her pestle and mortar, pausing in crushing fennel seeds.

'Li!' Chowa used her new name without formality when they were alone, and Lanna smiled in acknowledgement. She liked to pretend it wasn't a new name but an affectionate one given to her by those close to her. It eased her pride. Chowa's dark eyes met Lanna's and the woman hesitated, then shrugged her delicate shoulders.

'I believe you are ready for a little more responsibility.' She smoothed her clothing and looked to Frez as he washed copper beakers.

'She will be on the stall with you,' Chowa ordered then turned back to Lanna. 'You may complete the studies I have set for you tomorrow.'

Chowa gave a firm nod, not waiting for a response, then moved to a bench to attend to a balm for burns. Somehow, the new concubine from the Haven Islands had been scalded. Her legs were particularly badly affected. She wouldn't be dancing for a while.

Lanna edged across her bench in Frez's direction. 'Misra Chowa seems really interested in this girl's treatment,' she whispered. 'Any of us can prepare a burns balm.'

'Misra Chowa dislikes those who use violence rather than subtlety to get ahead,' Frez whispered in return, not looking up from his task. 'She counsels the naïve too. There have been no suicides since she took over from her sire.'

The pair worked on, but awkward silence sat between them like a hungry fangcat, gobbling up the words they might have shared. The past couldn't be forgotten, for either of them.

During their break, Frez talked Lanna through how their stall and orders system operated. It at least gave them a topic of conversation that the heavy silence couldn't devour.

'Letters are delivered in the morning to Misra Chowa with order requests. She then replies with an estimation of the time it will take to fulfil the order and quotes a price. If the order cannot be fulfilled, she will still reply with a polite negative and give alternatives to the request or the names of chemists in the city she recommends.' Frez watched Lanna over the rim of his cup of tea, sweating heavily in the heated atmosphere of the workshop.

'This is why Misra Chowa never joins us until the eighth hour?' Lanna asked, wiping at her own beaded brow. She would curse her ancestors for a cold drink, yet all she had was tea.

Frez gave a slight chuckle. 'You thought she was abed all morning? No, child. Misra Chowa is awake before dawn and has the order list drawn up and ready for Epen to collect after breakfast.'

'Don't call me child,' Lanna muttered into her cup and pulled her hair back from her face before the damp brown curls stuck to her cheeks. She stopped herself growling something unpleasant, though she was sorely tempted. Instead, she used the diplomacy Chowa had taught her and changed the subject.

'So how do these things we sell get paid for?'

'No coin changes hands at our stall. Promissory notes are written. All the notes get turned into a moneychanger in the city by Epen at the end of the week. The coin is then deducted from the family treasury of the concubine. The value of some of our products is high and carrying around a large bag of coin is inconvenient.'

'I used to pay two fish for sea-cow oil to protect my hands; I thought that was a steep price,' Lanna huffed and drummed her displeasure into the scratched and stained table with her fingers. 'I can understand how silver and gold has value. It's rather shiny and pretty, but notes on paper and wood? How can that be the same as gold and silver?'

Frez shook his head, blond strands of hair sticking to his sweaty face.

'It's equal to the value noted. A moneychanger is duty-bound to honour the value should it be demanded in coin.' He gave her a small smirk. 'Besides, gold and silver are cheap here, Misra Li. The palace deals in a third metal. Platinum.' He sat back, folding his well-muscled arms. 'One coin of platinum is equal to a hundred gold.'