The Gold in the Dark

Chapter Two

He came back at dusk with a rap at the apartment door. Tia's father had just returned from Bleskar Bog, and they were all settling in for a meal of skeet tail stew. The tails couldn't be used to make myreink because they made the ink take on a cloudy, gray appearance, but when boiled they made a decent-tasting broth. Decent if you hadn't eaten it every single week like Tia had, that was.

The knock at the door startled away the friendly conversation and the clink of spoons on bowls. She couldn't remember the last time someone had knocked at their door. Everyone knew everyone in the merchant apartments, and it wasn't unusual for Alan or Dezel or Pila to burst in, ready to talk business over a sticky bun or raisin tart. Their mother's cooking creativity may have been stifled by a constant overabundance of skeet tails, but she was a fine baker.

"Late for strangers to come knocking," Tia's mother hissed, glancing pointedly at her husband. With a groan, Tomma Inkman rose from the table and took up his knife again from where he'd just laid it, next to the stove. He always kept it handy on trips into Bleskar; even with a guide, it was only sensible to go armed into the bog.

He approached the door. "Who's there? New acquaintances are best met in the sunlight."

"Fortunately I'm an old acquaintance. Let me in, Tomma. It's Willy Maaj." Tia blanched as her father nodded his head and opened the door. Her father knew that man? Noticing Tia's shock, Natlin raised her eyebrows in a silent question, but all Tia could do was shake her head.

Master Maaj strode into the room, the shine of his boots and his shirt buttons making their home look shabby in comparison. His tall frame towered over Tia and Natlin, who were both still seated at the table. She watched, stunned, as her father reached toward Master Maaj for a handshake and her mother swept up from the table to cut a fresh slice of pound cake. Within ten seconds, there she was again facing Master Maaj, this time over her family's kitchen table.

"To what do we owe the honor, Willy? The usual?" their father asked.

"Yes, and another matter," he answered. His bright eyes darted to meet Tia's, and his mouth wobbled into a small smile. She hunched down in her seat and dropped her gaze, giving the peas on her plate a thorough examination.

"Well, business first then," her father continued. "I've been expecting you for weeks now. You should have come by the shop."

"I did this afternoon, but you were out—though I had the pleasure of meeting your daughter."

"Tia? Or Natlin?"

"We didn't get far enough along in the conversation to do a proper exchange of names." Tia sank further down in her chair, cheeks burning. Though she kept her eyes on her peas, she felt her father's gaze slide over to her side of the table. Perfect—she'd clearly insulted a longstanding client of her father's. Could this day get any worse?

Her mother cleared her throat, ignoring the palpable awkwardness. "Well, we're always happy when you're in town, Willy. Haplyr isn't close to our small corner of the world, and we appreciate the business."

Master Maaj took a bite of pound cake and hummed with quiet satisfaction. "Truth be told, I never mind the trip. It does one good to get out of the capital every once in a while—helps you remember there's more to life than court gossip and parties. You forget about green grass and the sound of wind running through leaves."

Her mother smiled. "You were always good for a turn of words. Perhaps when the dance is beyond you you'll turn some attention to poetry."

"My dear, I feel I am already at that point. Thank the gods they took Osanne in winter, not summer. I don't think I could make the journey in the colder months; my bones would protest too much."