When Ven looked closer, however, past the first row of houses and stores, he could see that the streets and buildings quickly lost their colors, fading into gray. It looked like a mist was hanging around them, making them hard to see. The shutters on the windows were more often broken or missing, the paint on the doors peeling.
What caught his eye most of all, however, was what was over the buildings of the Gated City.
Suspended in the air above the streets, attached to the roofs of the houses that stood side by side, was a second sidewalk. Wide ladders led up to it at each alleyway. Above the roofs, people were walking on the elevated footpath, greeting each other in passing as if they were on the ground below. The street in the air stretched all the way into the Market as far as he could see.
Ven was suddenly nervous. He folded the jack-rule and looked back at his friends. Everyone was watching him. They all still had their tokens around their necks, as did he.
“Where to first?” Char asked.
“Let’s go to the center of the square,” Ven suggested. “We’ll start by just looking around to begin with.” He put the jack-rule away and headed into the middle of the Outer Market. The other four children nodded and followed him.
Past the pit fires where the food was roasting were other types of fires, over which other types of pots were hanging.
At one, a tall, thin woman with red hair and a colorful apron was dipping an enormous spoon with a tin cup in its bowl. When she lifted it out of the pot, the cup had been plated in gold. Two men were striking coins in silver, copper, and a strange blue metal in a forge and cooling them in another of the pots. A third pot seemed to be a giant cauldron of medicine. Six men in brightly striped shirts with hair and skin that matched were bottling the contents of that pot, each with a long-handled ladle. Ven noticed that every time one of them poured what was in his ladle into a bottle, the color was different.
Some of the townspeople who had entered the gates with them were wandering around much like they were, taking in the sights with wonder. Others, who had obviously been to the Market before, hurried to certain booths and shops.
All around them the air was filled with delicious smells. Beyond the roasting food there was the scent of heavy spice and rare perfume, making Ven’s head spin. And, as McLean had predicted, there was music playing everywhere, the sweet sounds of flutes and harps with drums keeping time.
Saeli grabbed his sleeve and tugged at it.
Ven looked where she was pointing. In the center of the closest ring of booths was a carpet weaver. Beautiful rugs in all shapes and sizes hung on bamboo frames around his tent. Many of them were tapestries showing great stories of history. Some of them seemed to be changing patterns as the stories progressed. The patterns on others were changing color in the sun. Out in front of the booth a small carpet was hovering in the air.
Flying by itself.
The weaver ignored them as he continued with his work. Sitting on the ground in front of the booth was a strange-looking man with a long black mustache and eyebrows that looked like woolly caterpillars were eating his forehead.
On the ground in front of the strange man were brightly colored balls, sticks, and unlit torches. His hands held long thin clubs, which he started to juggle. Just as he did, the carpet swooped down from the air and started to interfere. It dived at his head, and flew in between his hands, as if it were trying to make him drop the clubs. The man pretended to swat it away, but Ven could see it was all part of the act.
He looked over his shoulder nervously.
As McLean had warned him, many townspeople were around the booth, watching the show, some of them standing very close to him. Mixed in with them here and there were people without tokens. Ven realized they must be inhabitants of the city, rather than shoppers.
In spite of the bright clothing many of the Gated City’s folk wore, there was a raggedness, an edge to them that worried Ven, a sort of toughness beneath the color. He felt for his wallet and was relieved to find it was still within his pocket.
“Come on,” he urged the others. “This is a great way to get pickpocketed. Let’s see if we can find something that looks like the king’s stone. Let’s keep to each of our directions and keep our eyes open.”
They walked farther across the square, where a glistening carousel was being prepared. Instead of horses, however, the figures on it were mythical beasts, beautifully carved, painted, and trimmed with what looked like jewels on their saddles. Nearby were two huge swings, strung with heavy rope and shaped like griffins, their bodies hollowed out for seats. Their red and black wooden feathers gleamed in the morning air. Two men in orange shirts were checking the ropes.
A pretty young human woman with dark brown skin who was polishing a silver dragon on the carousel looked up at them and smiled. She pointed at a ferocious wooden blue-green sea monster with one hand and a golden flying lion with the other.
“Care for a ride, gentles?” she asked sweetly.
“No, thank you very much,” Clemency said quickly, snagging both Char and Nicholas by the shoulders and pushing them ahead of her.
“Clem, what was the point of paying all that money to come into this place if you’re not going to let us have some fun?” said Nicholas, sounding cross.
“Yeah, we’ll probably never get to come back here ever,” said Char.
“Aren’t you the one who told me to stay away from this place our first day in town?” asked Ven, amused. “If I recall, you said you never needed to buy anything so badly to risk being stripped of everything you own.”
Char came to a halt in front of another booth, a sort of wooden kiosk with purple draperies that was full of golden cages.
“Well, I don’t have anythin’ I own here, anyway,” he said, staring inside the booth. “’Cept for my clothes, everythin’ on me was paid for by the king. An’ nobody’d want to steal my clothes. I think they’re older than all of us put together.”
Each of the golden cages contained animals of some sort, but they were different from any Ven had ever seen. There were snakes that seemed to be made of jewels, except that they were moving, their silver forked tongues darting. Fish swam in round glass bowls, glittering metallically when the light hit them. Turtles with shells that looked like they were formed of marble lazed in the morning sun. A flying squirrel leapt from side to side in its small cage. A white-coated raccoon with a silver mask and black claws appeared to be making a chain out of yarn with its claws. And in the back of the kiosk, a brown bear with an elongated snout and strangely human paws was sweeping up under the cages with a broom, a chain shackled around its ankle.
The smallest of the cages held soft, furry creatures with glossy coats, tiny claws, and large eyes and ears. Their fur was striped silver and black. They were sleeping, curled up together.
In another larger cage was an odd-looking bird. It had a large curved beak and skinny legs that ended in large feet. It seemed to Ven that its torso was, like the bear’s paws, almost human except for being small and covered in red feathers.
In still another cage was a tiny animal that looked like a puffy monkey. The misery in its eyes was unmistakable.
To his left Ven heard a choking sound. He turned quickly and saw Saeli moving closer to the cages, a look of horror on her face.
Within the booth behind the cages was a tall, thin man in a soft-sided top hat with a ratty brim. The man’s similarly ratty hair stuck out from beneath it. His eyes were black and twinkling; his arms and legs seemed to go on forever. He reminded Ven of a spider.
On his shoulder sat an enormous black bird with a blue tint to its feathers. It eyed them suspiciously.
As Saeli approached, the man stood up, stretched out his long limbs, and rubbed his gloved hands together.
“Well, good morning, mates,” he said brightly. “Lookin’ for anything special?”
“Not today, thank you,” said Clem, taking Saeli gently by the shoulders and pulling her back. The small Gwadd girl continue to st
are sadly back over her shoulder as they headed down the street. The man touched the brim of his cap, smiled, and returned to the depths of his kiosk.
They walked through the town square, past the circles of booths to the street where the permanent buildings stood, the sidewalks in the air above them. Here there were shops, rather than tents, that shared a long common porch, and each had a pretty wooden sign out front telling what was sold within.
They passed a spice merchant’s shop with burlap sacks spilling out onto the porch, filled with fat vanilla beans and pungent peppercorns and all sorts of good-smelling herbs. Beyond that was an apothecary where tonics were being sold, a shop with nothing but fudge for sale, and a tailor who was talking to a woman in a nearby shop full of bolts of beautiful silk.
Clem stopped at a table in front of the fabric shop. “Look at this gorgeous satin,” she said, running her hand over a sheet of shiny black cloth. “It reminds me of the night sky—you can almost see the stars shining in it.”
“Look harder,” said the woman in the shop. “You can see them.”
The children squinted. The silky folds of the fabric gleamed, then twinkled with a million tiny sparkling lights. When they looked again, it had returned to black.
“Come on,” Ven said insistently to Clemency, who blinked, then turned quickly away from the table.
“What do you suppose that means?” Nick asked as they came to a large sign hanging over a shop at the corner of first street. It read
ARMS OF COATES
“That’s odd,” Ven agreed. “I’ve heard of coats of arms—it’s like a family crest or symbol. The Polyphemes have one. But Arms of Coates?”
“Why don’t we go in and see?” Char suggested. “I wouldn’t mind being inside about now. All these people millin’ around are making me skittish.”
“Good idea,” said Clemency. She climbed the wooden steps up to the store and held the door open for the others.
As they stepped inside they froze in fear.
8
The Arms of Coates
BLOCKING THE DOORWAY WAS A GIGANTIC GUARD DOG, LARGE enough for Char to have ridden it like a horse. His shaggy coat was brown with black streaks starting at his gigantic jaw that ran from his ears to his tail. The teeth that protruded from that jaw were the size of Ven’s thumbs.
* * *
I suddenly wished I had put Saeli behind me. Her entire body would have fit easily down his throat.
The muscles under the dog’s smooth hide were as big as dinner plates, and tense. His paws were larger than my hands, and the skin of his brow, if that’s what dogs have, was hanging down around his eyes.
Which were staring intently at us.
Behind me I heard Nicholas start to breathe shallowly. I knew without even seeing him that he was white as a sheet. Nick had a bad run-in with dogs just like this and had almost been torn to pieces.
I was looking around for a broom, a pole, anything to use when the dog attacked. But it didn’t. It stared at us for a long moment, leaned forward and sniffed at Saeli, then turned around and walked back to the store’s counter, where it settled back down on a rag rug.
Tufts of dog fur exploded into the air as he hit the ground.
* * *
A man with dark circles under dark eyes and hair that matched stood behind the counter, polishing a silver mug. He seemed amused.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” the man asked. He put down the polishing cloth and came out from behind the counter.
With him came a second dog, smaller than the first. His coat looked like butter and cream, and he had a serious face with soft brown eyes and a black nose. His ears were the color of toasted marshmallows, and he trotted toward the children and stopped in front of Saeli. He sniffed her, then Ven, then Char, Clem, and finally Nick, whose eyes were tightly closed.
Satisfied, the dog turned around and went back behind the counter.
The dark-eyed man stopped in front of them and folded his arms. “How can I help you, lads and lasses?” he asked politely.
“We’re just looking,” said Ven.
“Ah,” said the man. “That would be a good idea. In fact, I advise you to keep your hands at your sides at all times, please.”
The children glanced around.
The store was filled with weapons and armor of every imaginable kind. Wicked-looking blades from the tiniest knife to a sword taller than Clem hung high on the walls. Beside them many other weapons were displayed—clubs and maces and crossbows, spears and daggers and axes, and some kinds that Ven had never seen.
Along the walls of the shop were suits upon suits of every kind of armor, some made of shiny metals, others of leather or dull steel rings, shirts and sleeves and gauntlets.
* * *
The man could have started his own war with just the arms and armor in his shop.
* * *
The store owner walked slowly around them, then went over to the window and looked outside onto the market street. He closed the door, turned back, smiled brightly, and bowed to the group.
“Allow me to introduce myself—Mynah Coates, at your service,” he said smoothly. “And who might you fine young’uns be?”
“Just shoppers,” Clemency said, interrupting Ven.
Mr. Coates nodded. “And how did you get into the Market? They don’t usually let children inside.”
“Our money was as good as anyone’s, I guess,” said Char.
“Hmmm.” Coates looked out the window again.
“Are you looking for someone?” Ven asked, suddenly nervous.
The man just continued to watch out the window. Finally he turned around and smiled.
“Is there anything in particular you were looking for here?” he asked. “I think most of the items are out of your price range, but I could be wrong. If you can afford to buy Market tokens, perhaps you are wealthier than you look.” He stepped away from the window and headed back to the counter.
“Mostly we were just curious to see what your sign meant,” said Ven. “Sorry to disturb you—and your dogs. I guess we can be on our way now.”
“Oh, Munx wasn’t disturbed,” said Coates, picking up his polishing cloth and returning to his work. “He was just doing his job—he’s my doorbell.”
“What’s the other one’s name?” Clemency asked.
“Finlay,” Coates replied. “He was just doing his job as well.”
“What’s Finlay’s job?” asked Char.
The man’s dark face lost its smile as he polished. “He makes certain no one brings anything in here that shouldn’t be in here.” He gestured, without looking, to the walls and the deeper recesses of the store. “While you’re here, why don’t you look around? There are many beautiful pieces. Just don’t touch anything, please—for your own sake as well as mine.”
Nick, Char, and Ven looked at each other, and Nick shrugged.
“Can’t hurt,” he said. The others nodded in agreement.
As they wandered around the shop, Mr. Coates continued to work on his mug. They passed cabinets full of rings with tiny spikes extended, decks of cards and hair combs, pots and glasses and articles of clothing, all of which seemed to have been designed as weapons. All the while they kept their hands at their sides, fearful to touch anything.
Finally Nick stopped in front of a case where a strange metal glove was displayed. Ven stopped, too; there was something about it that made his curiosity burn so wildly that his ears turned red.
“What’s this, Mr. Coates?” he asked.
The dark-eyed man put down his cloth again and came over to the case. He took out a ring of many keys, unlocked the glass door, and put the glove on the top of the case.
“Try it on,” he said.
“Are—are you sure?” Ven asked.
Mr. Coates chuckled. “I’m sure—the question is, are you sure?”
Ven thought for a long moment. “No,” he said finally. “I’m not sure.”
“That’s wise,” said Coates. “
You can never be sure in this place. Now, do you want to try it on, even though you’re not sure?”
Ven inhaled deeply. “Yes.”
“Of course he does,” Clemency said to Saeli, who sighed.
Mr. Coates handed him the giant glove.
Slowly Ven slid it on.
* * *
When I put my hand inside it, I felt the strangest sensation—like I was suddenly older, or more powerful. Or maybe it was just that I felt safer, even if I also looked foolish. It’s pretty silly for a Nain boy to be wearing a heavy armored gauntlet, something human soldiers use to keep their sword arms from being hacked open.
But no matter how it looked, it felt wonderful.
* * *
“Do you want to try it on, too?” Coates asked Nick, who nodded excitedly. After Nick tried it, Char and Clemency each took a turn, while Saeli shook her head vigorously when offered the gauntlet.
Finally, when Clemency was done, Coates put the gauntlet on his own hand. He smiled at the children.
Then he flicked his wrist.
With a snap, a shiny metal blade leapt out of the gauntlet.
The children jumped away from the display case.
Coates chuckled. He flicked his wrist again, and the blade disappeared. Then he turned his hand over, made a fist, and appeared to punch the air.
A wide metal spike appeared, with two sharp points, out of the knuckles of the gauntlet.
“In addition to its obvious advantages, this is also useful, when used with its mate, to climb walls and stony cliffs,” he said. Another turn of his hand, and the spike was gone.