Maia

At length, roused out of sleepy contentment by the gongs of the clock towers sounding for the sixth hour after noon, she sat up in panic.

"O Lespa! That's never the time? Oh, I'll just about have to fly! No, don't try to stop me, my lord" (as he put his arm round her), "you'll only get me into trouble. But next time you're in Bekla-oh, soon soon soon!"

"It can't be too soon for me," he answered. "I'll let you know in good time, Maia, when I'm coming back. To tell you the truth, I like you better than Occula."

Occula's sophisticated expertise might perhaps have been a little too much for him, she thought. Indeed, now that she had got to know him for herself, she could sense as much. So she, Maia, could actually manage something Occula couldn't! Eud-Ecachlon was the better for her, and she was the better for knowing it. He wouldn't forget her: that she was sure of. (Nor, as will be seen, did he.)

Dressed-more or less-and climbing into the jekzha for which the porter's boy had run out into the rain, she leaned back in a state of delightful self-satisfaction, fingering the lygol in her pocket (which felt heavy) and with her other hand fanning the humid air before her face.

It was not Maia's way-as it is many people's-to cool down excitement or gratification by searching for snags. (If only it had been, of course, she would probably never have become a slave-girl at all.) On the contrary, she normally gave full rein to every mood, one way or the other, until the fit was out. Now, triumphant in the waning light, she pulled aside the rain curtain and rode down the street like a princess, gazing from side to side and even, once or twice, happily waving to those passers-by (and there were more than a few) who chanced to look at her.

Thus gazing about her, she noticed a sweet-shop a little way up the road. Its lamps, which had already been lit, glistened invitingly on ju-jubes, crystallized fruits, slabs of toffee and honey-nut thrUsa like that which Tharrin had given her in the fishing-net. After all her romping activity,

Maia was hungry (and to do him justice, Eud-Ecachlon would probably have done something about this, if only she had given him time). At the mere sight of the confectionery her mouth began to water, and a moment later, as the jekzha moved nearer, she caught the spicy, nutty smell of the shop, warm from the lamps.

Oh, bugger Terebinthia! she thought. Who did she think she was, anyway? When Terebinthia was an old hag with rotten teeth, she, Maia, would be a golden shearna and the friend of princes. And talking of teeth-

"Stop a moment!" she said to the jekzha-man. "I'm going into that sweet-shop; I shan't be a minute!"

Taking his hand to help herself down, she crossed the paved, well-drained footway-it still delighted her that in Bekla the rains were mudless-and went in under the propped-up, penthouse shutter of the shop.

Beside the scales, with their pile of little, brass weights, an old woman, black-clad, was sitting on a stool, while near-by a sturdy young fellow, holding a stick, leant against the wall. Maia could guess well enough what his job was, for in cities of the Beklan Empire sweet-shops had an effect no different from that which they had always had on penniless urchins.

"Good evening, mother!" she smiled, throwing back the hood of her cloak and giving the old woman the full benefit of her happy elation. "Would you like to sell me some thrilsa?"

The old woman, who knew all the local shearnas by sight, stared to see such a young, pretty girl out by herself. At all events, she thought, the customer looked well-dressed and prosperous.

"Is it the best you'd like, my dear?" she said. "There's two or three kinds, but this one's made with serrardoes, look-very nice."

She held up a piece between a none-too-clean finger and thumb.

"Oh, yes that does seem nice," said Maia, bending forward and sniffing. The smell vividly recalled Tharrin and the net."It looks even nicer than the kind the High Counselor usually has. D'you reckon p'raps I ought to take him some back for a treat?"

In her high spirits, the idea of standing treat to the High Counselor struck her as exquisitely funny, and she roared with laughter.

The old woman stopped hitting the slab of thrilsa with her little hammer and looked round at her sharply.

"Are you the girl from the High Counselor's?" she asked.

"Yes, I am," answered Maia, in a tone that meant "and proud of it, too!"

The old woman put her face close to Maia's.

"Why have you come here yourself?" she whispered. "D'you want to get us all killed?"

"What-whatever do you mean?" gasped Maia, stepping back in astonishment and alarm. Presumably the poor old thing must be a little touched.