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When you watch people, you forget that people are watching you. Glenda was not very tall, which meant that from her point of view dwarfs were not very short. And she realized that they were being approached in a determined kind of way by two dwarfs, one of whom was extremely expansive around the waist and wearing a breastplate so beautifully hammered and ornamented that taking it into battle would be an act of artistic vandalism. He–and you had to remember that all dwarfs were he unless they asserted otherwise–had, when he spoke, a voice that sounded like the darkest and most expensive type of dark chocolate, possibly smoked. And the hand he offered had so many rings on each finger that you had to look with care to realize that he was not wearing a gauntlet. And she was a she, Glenda was sure of it: the chocolate was just too rich and fruity.

‘So glad you could come, my dears,’ she said, and the chocolate swirled. ‘I am Madame Sharn. I wondered if you could be of assistance to me? I really would not dream of asking, but I am, as you would put it, between a rock and a hard one.’

All this was, to Glenda’s annoyance, addressed to Juliet, who was eating rat fruit as if there was no tomorrow, which presumably there had not been for the rat. She giggled.

‘She’s with me,’ said Glenda, and, without meaning to, added, ‘Madame?’

Madame waved another hand and more rings glistened. ‘This salon is technically a mine and that means that under dwarf law I am the king of the mine and in my mine my rules go. And since I am King, I declare that I am Queen,’ she said. ‘Dwarf law bends and creaks but is not broken.’

‘Well,’ Glenda began, ‘we—Hey!’

This was to Madame’s smaller companion, who was actually holding a tape measure up against Juliet. ‘That is Pepe,’ said Madame.

‘Well, if he’s going to take liberties like that I hope he’s a woman,’ said Glenda.

‘Pepe is… Pepe,’ said Madame calmly. ‘And there is no changing him, as it were, or her. Labels are such unhelpful things, I feel.’

‘Especially yours, ’cos you don’t put the prices on them,’ said Glenda, out of sheer nervousness.

‘Ah yes, you notice these things,’ said Madame, with a wink that disarmed to the point of melting.

Pepe looked up excitedly at Madame, who went on, ‘I wonder if you, if she… if you both would mind joining me backstage? The matter is a little delicate.’

‘Ooh, yes,’ said Juliet immediately.

Out of nowhere, other human girls materialized among the crowd and carefully opened a path towards the back of the enormous room along which Madame progressed as though propelled by invisible forces.

Glenda felt that the situation had suddenly got away from her, but it had been a good measure of sherry and it whispered to her, ‘Why not let a situation get away from you every once in a while? Or even just once’ She had no idea what she was expecting behind the gilded door at the far end, but she had not expected smoke and flames and shouting and someone screaming in a corner. The place looked like a foundry on the day they let the clowns in.

‘Come on through. Don’t let this disturb you,’ said Madame. ‘It’s always like this at show time. Nerves, you know. Of course, everyone in this business is lowly strung and there is always this problem to begin with with the micromail. It’s new, you see. According to dwarf law it must be hallmarked on every link and that would not only be sacrilege, but also bloody difficult to do.’ Behind the scenes, it appeared that Madame became a little less chocolatey and a little more earthy.

‘Micromail!’ said Juliet, as if she had been shown the gateway to riches.

‘You know what it is?’ said Madame.

‘She talks about nothing else,’ said Glenda. ‘Talks and talks.’

‘Well, of course, it’s wonderful stuff,’ said Madame. ‘Almost as soft as cloth, certainly better than leather—’

‘—and it doesn’t chafe,’ said Juliet.

‘Which is always a consideration for the more traditional dwarf who will not wear cloth,’ said Madame. ‘Old tribal customs, how they hold us back, always pull us back. We haul ourselves out of the mine, but somehow we always drag a bit of the mine with us. If I had my way, silk would be reclassified as a metal. What is your name, young lady?’

‘Juliet,’ said Glenda automatically, and then blushed. That was mumming, pure and simple. It was almost as bad as getting someone to spit on their handkerchief and wiping their face for them. The young lady with the drinks had followed them in and chose this moment to take Glenda’s sherry glass and replace it with a full one.

‘Would you mind just walking up and down a moment, Juliet?’ said Madame.

Glenda wanted to ask why, but since her mouth was full of sherry as an anti-embarrassment remedy, she let that one pass.

Madame watched Juliet critically, one hand cupping the elbow of the other arm.

‘Yes, yes. But I mean slowly, as if you were not in a hurry to get there and didn’t care,’ said Madame. ‘Imagine you’re a bird in the air, a fish in the sea. Wear the world.’

‘Oh, right,’ said Juliet and started again.

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