Sara said, “What do you think?”
Prin shook her head at the turnip seller as if the price was too high, and she escorted Sara past several more tables. At a place where customers could slip between displays to another row, Prin pulled her along. Two rows away, they paused at a display of bowls carved from various woods. Prin situated herself where she could watch behind without being obvious.
The young man in pale green emerged from a small crowd, his eyes searching, then he headed in their direction. A pair of men in darker blue, with stars sewn to their shirts, walked past. Prin caught the attention of one and hissed, “Directly ahead of you is a young man wearing light green. We’ve never seen him, but he’s stalking my sister, I think.”
Their eyes found him immediately. They headed in his direction, but the man who had been following them spun and darted off.
“Wait,” one of the constables shouted, as the other blew a whistle. The chase was on.
Several more constables raced to the sound of the whistle. Prin said, “Let’s get away from here.”
They walked quickly, but not so fast they would attract attention. Before leaving the market, at a stall near the edge, Sara paid for a plucked chicken. At the next stall, she quickly bought fresh peas, carrots, and noodles. A moment later, they were in the maze of side streets again.
With only two mistakes, they found their way back to the house. Brice sat on the steps. Sara brushed past him without speaking.
Prin said, “You might as well come on in. At least for a little while.”
He followed her, his head hung low. At the top, he paused and said, “I’m sorry.”
Sara spun around to him, face red and contorted. “Sorry? That’s all you have to say? Do you have any idea of what just happened?”
“No,” Prin said gently, “how could he?”
“Stop protecting him.” Sara sat in a chair and fumed, her eyes squinted, brows furrowed, and body tense. Prin motioned to the terrace and Brice went out there and sat in silence. Prin said nothing, and later, when she looked up, Sara was chopping the vegetables and putting them in a pot. Her chopping was furious, the pieces becoming bits instead of chunks.
After Sara cut up the chicken and added water, she put the pot on a small fire to simmer and pulled the same chair back to the edge of the terrace. Without preamble, she said, “I’m sorry. Neither of you deserved that. I was scared.”
“What happened?” Brice asked, then looked as if he wished he hadn’t said anything.
Prin answered, “There are men looking for me. Prominent men, and even a mage or two. We escaped them twice, but when we were in the market in a city we’ve never visited, a man followed us for no reason, except that he was looking at me. Not Sara. Me.”
“You say you’ve never been in Gallium?”
“They are searching all seaports, I think.”
“Are you that important?” he asked.
“Some people think so. Now I don’t know what to do.”
Sara said, “It’s not your fault, Prin. I just don’t know how we can even buy food if they are searching here for you. You may have to remain inside for the entire stay. That man found us before we’d passed a hundred stalls, so I should think there are many more searching because he couldn’t have been that lucky. What are we going to do?”
Brice began to smile. “Well, maybe here is where I help pay you back. Nobody knows me. Suppose I do the shopping and run the errands. The two of you stay inside where they can’t find you.”
Sara said, “Hey, that might work.”
Brice said, “Did the man recognize you, or just suspect it might be you?”
“Suspect,” Prin said. “He was trying to get closer for a better look, I think. Maybe they have drawings?”
“Is there any reason you need to go out before we sail? Is there anything I can’t do to help?” Brice’s voice rose in frustration that his offer hadn’t been accepted.
Sara visibly calmed. She settled back in the chair, her mind at work as she turned to him. “Can you read?”
“A little.”
“We could give him lists of what we need for shopping, including food and supplies,” Sara said, “As soon as we find out if shaving his head gets rid of that irritating fuzz around him.”
He stood and said, “Let’s do it. I’ve been thinking and realize that the two of you are helping me. If you say my hair may get me into trouble, let’s get rid of it.”
Prin used a scoop of water from the bucket and wet his hair. Then she used her fingers as a comb and brushed it back off his forehead while looking at Sara.
She said, “It is the hair. Come look.”
Prin went to stand beside Sara. His forehead was normal, so she combed it down over his eyes and stepped back. The fuzziness now shimmered down to his eyes. “How did nobody ever see that? It’s so obvious.”
“Did you live in a small village when young?” Sara asked.
Prin combed his hair back again and placed a hat on him. The hat took on a very slight haziness. She asked Sara, “Does the hat hide it?”
“No, not really, but it does cover it up some. When you look at the hair below the hat, it’s still there.”
Sara had calmed and talked in her usual manner, all traces of anger passed. Prin removed the hat and said, “You’re going to look as funny as us when you’re bald.”
“Just do it before I change my mind.”
Prin cut hanks of hair and soaped what remained. Soon, his hair was gone, his scalp white, and Sara said, “Nope, it’s as bad as ever.”
Prin saw the twinkle in her eye. “Well, maybe we need to paint his head green.”
“My head?”
“What else, silly?”
Brice stood, confused, his hands running through nonexistent hair until they burst into laughter. He asked, “Can I see me?”
They couldn’t find anything to provide a reflection. But they assured him, after passing a few looks between them, how good he looked bald, when in truth, he appeared almost deformed. Sara’s and Prin’s scalps had tanned and looked acceptable, while his dark facial skin contrasted dramatically with the white scalp.
“He should wear a hat to keep the sun off, or he’ll burn the first day,” Sara said, checking on the soup again and stirring it. “This will be bland because we didn’t buy enough spices. Mustard seed and mint will provide little help.”
Prin tasted the proffered spoon. “Yuck. Put them on the list.” She sat in a chair and said, “When I was with the Old Mage, and we camped near a river, he put a spell on everything around--one that blurred us to anyone passing by on the road. They could hear us, and he said bears could smell us, but we’d sort of blur into the trees when anyone looked in our direction.”
“Like Brice’s hair,” Sara said, crossing the room and scooping a handful of his hair and holding it beside her face. “What do you think?”
“Your face is blurred.”
Sara scooped all the hair and placed it in an empty bowl. “We may find a use for that. We’ll save it.”
“Candles, we need many of them for reading at night, and a lamp,” Prin said.
Sara turned to Brice. “I think we should all sit outside where the air is fresh and talk about what we know about magic, and what we don’t, so we are all equal in our knowledge. At least, the generalities.”
Brice said, “Then you two do all the talking, and I’ll listen because I don’t know anything. Until today, the mention of magic scared me.”
Sara pulled the chair back to the doorway to the terrace. “You see, that’s the funny thing. I think you know more than you believe, maybe more than us. So, before we tell you what we know, I want to question you.”