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Haven City


Jes was putting the ride to their appointment at the Haven City Business Association to use by quizzing Mar Tyn on the study material he had completed. He had come to expect this of her, and owned that he would have been disappointed, had she not turned to his lessons.

In fact, he had only last night finished Module Five: Balance sheets and financial statements. Before he began, he had felt himself on firm ground. After all, Dyoli had him busy notating profit-and-loss statements submitted by on-port businesses. So great was his confidence, that he opened the module rather late in the evening.

As he should have expected, the form was more nuanced than the relatively simple task Dyoli had given him had revealed. He stayed up behind-time in order to wrest the last bit of understanding from the material, and had been pleased that the rescheduled breakfast meeting had given him time to reread, and take the self-test.

He was beginning to find the material challenging, but much to his own surprise, that only made him more determined to become its master. If he had considered the matter at all, he would have predicted that he would become disheartened as the work grew more demanding, and eventually fail to open the next module.

But here—Master Trader yos’Galan, Dyoli, and Jes herself were perfectly convinced that he could—that he would—complete the course, take the certification tests, and stand up as an accountant. It was as if their belief in this outcome buoyed him, and lent him resolve.

So it was that he was in the middle of discussing the derivation of income statements from raw balance sheets, when his Gift . . . shivered.

His voice died in his throat, and he could swear he saw sparkling ribbons dancing away into the future, and . . . fading.

“Mar Tyn?” Jes said, her voice sharp enough to gain his attention, but the fit had passed; the ribbons dissolved. He turned to look at her.

“My Gift stirred,” he said. Of course, Jes knew he was a Luck, but he thought that she did not apprehend the whole of it. Very few did, after all.

“Are you in pain?” she asked.

“No. It was a momentary sensation, gone now. I suppose it might have simply been a . . . reaction to the”—he waved his hand in an arc over his head—“conditions. Forgive me for being distracted.”

“I understand that it is a distracting circumstance,” Jes said, and awarded him her half-smile. “At least that much. I depend upon you to tell me if you require assistance, and what would best serve you. I am not at all Gifted, as you know, but I will do my best.”

“I thank you,” Mar Tyn said, genuinely touched. “I will tell you, if I am able to do so, if I should require assistance.”

She looked at him askance, and he braced himself for an inquiry regarding what his Gift may have done, precisely, but all she said was, “You were discussing financial statements, for our mutual edification. Pray continue.”

* * *

Qe’andra dea’Tolin.” The receptionist rose from behind her desk, her hands clasped before her breast; her demeanor anxious.

“Chair tayKorat is desolate that he cannot keep to the agreed-upon time, but an emergency has called him away. He wishes you to know that he would have missed you for nothing less. He commends you to Sub-Chair hanEsis, who is extremely knowledgeable. The Sub-Chair is available and—”

“And will be pleased to assist the qe’andras,” a new voice stated from Mar Tyn’s right.

He turned to see a woman in business dress, her pale hair cut so short that it stood up from her head like a brush. A cluster of gemstones glittered in her right ear.

She inclined from the waist in the Colemeno style.

“Pinfer hanEsis at your service.”

Jes inclined, likewise in the Colemeno style.

“Jes dea’Tolin, qe’andra in service of the Tree-and-Dragon Trade Mission.” She straightened and moved a hand in Mar Tyn’s direction. “One’s apprentice, Mar Tyn pai’Fortana.”

“I am honored, Qe’andras. I will do my utmost to answer every question, and to find those answers that I may lack, and deliver them to you.”

“That is exactly what I was hoping for,” Jes assured her, and the other woman smiled.

“Then, please, come with me to the meeting room, and I will be honored to do my best for you.”

* * *

“As you may have heard,” Jes said, after they had been properly seated, the tea served and the cake offered, “the trade mission has undertaken to do a whole port inventory. To accomplish this within the master trader’s timeline, we will need assistance, which I hope to hire from city-based firms.”

“I will be pleased to make recommendations and supply introductions,” Sub-Chair hanEsis said. “I will need a specific list of tasks and the master trader’s timeline.”

“Yes, of course. However, the master trader entrusted me with a specific inquiry regarding a firm in the city which was recommended to him. I wonder if we might address that first, so that it is not forgotten in the larger discussion.”

“Certainly. What is the name of the firm that was brought to the master trader’s attention?”

“kezlBlythe,” Jes said, and picked up her teacup.

Mar Tyn saw Sub-Chair hanEsis—flinch, her eyes narrowing, and her mouth pinching tight. He was not entirely certain that Jes had seen that reaction—or no, she must have done, because she put her cup aside and tipped her head slightly in that way she had when something interesting had happened.

“You know of this firm?” she asked.

“Of course, everyone is aware of the kezlBlythe,” Sub-Chair hanEsis said, recovering herself somewhat. “To call them a firm, however . . . more properly, they are a network, operating under private oversight. The overseeing association does have a membership in our organization, and I can of course supply contact details.”

“Thank you,” Jes said. “I will see that the master trader receives that information.”

She leaned forward slightly, and smiled her professional smile.

“Now, we come to the meat of the matter,” she said, sounding almost gay. It was not her usual mode when addressing business, but Mar Tyn saw it have an effect on the woman across the table. Her tension vanished entirely, replaced by an answering gaiety, and Mar Tyn wondered if, despite her protests, Jes might not have a Gift.

“Pursuit of a whole port inventory requires that all businesses on-port provide financials, stock inventory, specialties, and, in the case of Colemeno, any trade records from the time before Rostov’s Dust interjected itself. What we need are knowledgeable, working accountants to accept our collated data, crunch our numbers, and generate reports to our specifications on, I will be frank, a very tight deadline.”

Jes paused to sip tea.

“Historically, it has been Master Trader yos’Galan’s preference to—”

The door to the meeting room opened abruptly. Sub-Chair hanEsis started, and Mar Tyn felt his own muscles tense. Jes dea’Tolin merely glanced up, as cool as a glass of water.

A man entered the room hastily, his complexion high, and his smile too wide. Mar Tyn felt a flicker along nerves long attuned to his Gift, but it subsided without acting upon him.

Qe’andra dea’Tolin!” the newcomer exclaimed, with an extravagant bow. “My apologies, most profound! To have kept you waiting for me—inexcusable, I know it, and yet I beg your indulgence.”

Qe’andras,” Sub-Chair hanEsis said, with restraint, “allow me to make you known to Calven tayKorat, Chief of the Haven City Business Association.” She looked to the man in the doorway.

“Sir, here are Qe’andras dea’Tolin and pai’Fortana, from the Tree-and-Dragon Trade Mission.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” the man said, coming forward and pulling out the chair directly across from Jes. “Again, Qe’andra dea’Tolin, my apologies.”

“There is not the slightest need to apologize,” Jes told him. “Sub-Chair hanEsis has been most helpful. We had been discussing the need for reputable firms to accept data from us, and refine it to our specifications.”

“Hah. Quite a bit of data, I’m thinking, if you’re collecting from every vendor and manufacturing interest on-port. I will not mince words, Qe’andra dea’Tolin—you want to contact the kezlBlythe Association and enter into a working agreement with them. They have an extensive network, and a great deal of weight in the city’s business—”

“Indeed, sir, I was just telling Sub-Chair hanEsis of Master Trader yos’Galan’s preferences. He prefers his team to work with small, reputable independents. We are not in need of weight in the city, merely trained professionals, whom we will pay at their established rates. Sub-Chair hanEsis was about to generate a list of such firms for me, as I understand it?”

Sub-Chair hanEsis blinked, then inclined her head. “It will take only a moment, Qe’andra.”

“But that’s not at all necessary,” Chair tayKorat said, leaning across the table, one hand sliding forward, as if he would actually place it on Jes’s wrist. She picked up her cup, and he withdrew his hand.

“The kezlBlythe Association can receive your data at one point, distribute it and your instructions throughout their network, then collect and compile the results as you desire. You must see that such a system will save you time and effort. I have heard that the master trader’s timeline is short—”

“It is ambitious,” Jes said calmly, “but not unreasonable.” She put her cup down, and folded her hands neatly on the table, out of range, Mar Tyn noted, of Chair tayKorat’s reach.

“As to the kezlBlythe Association, sir, you represent them well, and they sound most efficient. However, they do not meet the master trader’s specifications.”

The man smiled, and leaned forward confidentially.

“As to that, surely the qe’andra in charge of a whole port inventory may decide for herself what will serve the mission best. All honor to the master trader, and absolutely his deadline must be met. But surely his preferences regarding details are secondary to your own?”

Mar Tyn did not snort. Or laugh.

Jes preserved a perfectly calm face.

“A master trader’s preference is never whimsical,” she said solemnly. “But in the case, the Accountant’s Guild recommends the precise approach I have described as optimum.”

Chair tayKorat was seen to wilt slightly.

In that moment of relative peace, Sub-Chair hanEsis pulled a data-key from her screen, and stood to offer it to Jes.

“Here is the list you requested, Qe’andra dea’Tolin,” she said, “with ratings, specialties, and rates. If there is anything else—”

Jes stood, and Mar Tyn did, too, on the principle that business was done, and that it was best to be gone before Chair tayKorat recruited another argument, or asked for the return of the data-key.

“Thank you,” Jes said, handing the key to Mar Tyn. “I appreciate your assistance. We will leave you to your work, now, Sub-Chair hanEsis.”

She stepped away from the table, and the Sub-Chair came around to accompany them. At the door, Jes turned and bowed in the Colemeno mode.

“Chair tayKorat, I am pleased to have met you, sir.”

Qe’andra.” He rose and bowed. “If I may assist you in any way, or if, after all you will wish an introduction to the kezlBlythe Association, only call me.”

* * *

They were back in the car and on the return route to the port before Jes looked at Mar Tyn, her expression speculative.

“It was very fortunate, I think, that we were able to meet with Sub-Chair hanEsis prior to Chair tayKorat’s arrival,” she said blandly.

Mar Tyn took a deep breath, recalling that moment when his Gift had shivered, and the dancing, sparkling ribbons.

“Yes,” he agreed, “that was Luck, indeed.”


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