said to Chey, who chuckled beside him.
“Frequently,” Chey replied. “Here we are, stuck with the ornery one, while the lovely mistress of sweets remains far away on a boat somewhere. Do you think their father
switched them on purpose? Maybe Nel’s the true second-born,” he said.
Tali stopped in her tracks.
“Let’s switch them back!” said Zarif. “We demand Sweetcakes Nel!”
Tali gave both boys a shove, then laughed along with them. “Perhaps she’ll bring us some sweets next week in Porto Sol. You’re both coming with me, aren’t you?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Chey said.
“Nor would I,” agreed Zarif. “Our first day off in two moons! And a chance to meet the
good
twin finally.”
“Careful, or the bad twin will have your head,” Tali said, pretending to strike Zarif at the neck.
“Are you and Nel identical, Tali?” Chey asked, once the laughter died down.
“In many ways, yes,” Tali answered as they entered Boulder’s stable, “but—”
Her words were cut off as the dog heard their arrival and began to bark excitedly. Chey opened the stall and the packhound leapt upon them, knocking them all in a heap and showering them with
unbridled affection. By this time even Zarif had become used to Boulder’s slobbery greetings, and the three friends couldn’t help but laugh some more as the great animal bounded among
them.
When Chey and Zarif finally picked themselves off the ground to fetch food and water, Tali settled back into a pile of hay, bruised but smiling. She and Nel had had many friends among the trader
families, but those had been friendships formed slowly over a long time, a dozen years of brief exchanges. Her bond with Zarif and Chey felt different. This friendship had been forged like a sword,
pounded into existence with the white-hot fire of the Alcazar and a hammer named Boulder.
M any claim Tequendian architecture to be the most diverse in the known worlds, firmly rooted in the intricate stonework of Ancient Tequende, but
also heavily influenced by the artistic vision and engineering of the realm’s large immigrant population.
—M. DE S AAVEDRA ,
The Rise of Tequende: A History
T ali could not wait to see her sister again. It felt like years had passed between them instead of moons. Before she left for Second Guard
training, Tali had never been separated from Nel, not even for a single night. She hoped her twin had fared well without her so far, though last week’s bluejacket message worried her
somewhat. Why had Nel paid for a carrier pigeon, when surely there were plenty of traders who did business with the Alcazar and would have delivered it for free? And the message itself had seemed
odd, asking Tali to meet at the Porto Sol bell tower instead of their boat. Tali shook the puzzling thoughts from her head and focused on the view from the ferry.
The thin clouds hovering over the waves pulled apart like ribbons, and Tali caught sight of Porto Sol, the city of sun. While the Alcazar always seemed masked in dark colors that wafted in a sea
of gray clouds and mist, Porto Sol nearly hurt her eyes with its sun-drenched brilliance. No matter how many times her family’s tradeboat had pulled into this port, the sight still dazzled
her. She glanced over at Zarif and Chey to see their reactions. They were, as she suspected, mesmerized. Chey’s mouth had even dropped open a bit as he leaned upon the railings, admiring the
panoramic view.
Boats of every size, color, and shape bobbed around them on their moorings as the ferry’s strong oarsmen pulled them closer to the dock. Tali looked for her father’s tradeboat among
the many vessels, but soon gave up. There were simply too many. Instead she turned her sights to the city of Porto Sol, which lay upon the mountainside in a riot of color, the great Magda River
cleaving it in two. Several bridges reached across the green ribbon of river, bustling with people, carts, and animals crossing from one side of
“Frequently,” Chey replied. “Here we are, stuck with the ornery one, while the lovely mistress of sweets remains far away on a boat somewhere. Do you think their father
switched them on purpose? Maybe Nel’s the true second-born,” he said.
Tali stopped in her tracks.
“Let’s switch them back!” said Zarif. “We demand Sweetcakes Nel!”
Tali gave both boys a shove, then laughed along with them. “Perhaps she’ll bring us some sweets next week in Porto Sol. You’re both coming with me, aren’t you?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Chey said.
“Nor would I,” agreed Zarif. “Our first day off in two moons! And a chance to meet the
good
twin finally.”
“Careful, or the bad twin will have your head,” Tali said, pretending to strike Zarif at the neck.
“Are you and Nel identical, Tali?” Chey asked, once the laughter died down.
“In many ways, yes,” Tali answered as they entered Boulder’s stable, “but—”
Her words were cut off as the dog heard their arrival and began to bark excitedly. Chey opened the stall and the packhound leapt upon them, knocking them all in a heap and showering them with
unbridled affection. By this time even Zarif had become used to Boulder’s slobbery greetings, and the three friends couldn’t help but laugh some more as the great animal bounded among
them.
When Chey and Zarif finally picked themselves off the ground to fetch food and water, Tali settled back into a pile of hay, bruised but smiling. She and Nel had had many friends among the trader
families, but those had been friendships formed slowly over a long time, a dozen years of brief exchanges. Her bond with Zarif and Chey felt different. This friendship had been forged like a sword,
pounded into existence with the white-hot fire of the Alcazar and a hammer named Boulder.
M any claim Tequendian architecture to be the most diverse in the known worlds, firmly rooted in the intricate stonework of Ancient Tequende, but
also heavily influenced by the artistic vision and engineering of the realm’s large immigrant population.
—M. DE S AAVEDRA ,
The Rise of Tequende: A History
T ali could not wait to see her sister again. It felt like years had passed between them instead of moons. Before she left for Second Guard
training, Tali had never been separated from Nel, not even for a single night. She hoped her twin had fared well without her so far, though last week’s bluejacket message worried her
somewhat. Why had Nel paid for a carrier pigeon, when surely there were plenty of traders who did business with the Alcazar and would have delivered it for free? And the message itself had seemed
odd, asking Tali to meet at the Porto Sol bell tower instead of their boat. Tali shook the puzzling thoughts from her head and focused on the view from the ferry.
The thin clouds hovering over the waves pulled apart like ribbons, and Tali caught sight of Porto Sol, the city of sun. While the Alcazar always seemed masked in dark colors that wafted in a sea
of gray clouds and mist, Porto Sol nearly hurt her eyes with its sun-drenched brilliance. No matter how many times her family’s tradeboat had pulled into this port, the sight still dazzled
her. She glanced over at Zarif and Chey to see their reactions. They were, as she suspected, mesmerized. Chey’s mouth had even dropped open a bit as he leaned upon the railings, admiring the
panoramic view.
Boats of every size, color, and shape bobbed around them on their moorings as the ferry’s strong oarsmen pulled them closer to the dock. Tali looked for her father’s tradeboat among
the many vessels, but soon gave up. There were simply too many. Instead she turned her sights to the city of Porto Sol, which lay upon the mountainside in a riot of color, the great Magda River
cleaving it in two. Several bridges reached across the green ribbon of river, bustling with people, carts, and animals crossing from one side of
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