I think. Forgemaster Inkstain gnaws at a nail before finally clearing off a corner of the half-buried desk that is his office. ”Well then, how many copies? What kind o' paper? Any illuminations? Illustrations? Ordinary bindin' or would you be wantin' somethin' odd, like dragonscale or wyvern hide? You be holy men-ain't no magical verse, would there be?“ Forgemaster Inkstain asks the last with a slow suspicion in his voice. ”There will be a sutra at the beginning-to invoke Furo's favor,“ I offer. ”Magical?“ The dwarfs face is a wrinkled scowl. ”No. Just a verse of the Yanitsava.“ ”Oh, that's all right then,“ the dwarf says, smiling once again. ”Ain't able to print magic on a page, you see. Just won't take.“ The rest of the details are beyond me, so I sit in the corner, letting Foxe negotiate. Each point seems to take an interminable amount of time; there is nothing for me to do but meditate, but I cannot blank my mind. Memories intrude on the emptiness-snow melting from the grassy steppe, the sharp taste of kumiss in Yamun's tent, the wind blowing across the granite spires of Khazari. Even the failure to meditate brings forth memories of my teachers at the Red Mountain. Of late, I have been thinking more and more of places past, as if the present is an empty shell that must be filled. Finally Foxe concludes the negotiations. His face is dour, and I can see it has not gone well. Forgemaster Inkstain steps forward, no longer beaming but serious. ”Well, honored sir, your servant has concluded a price o' no more than ten thousand gold lions or-let's see-eight if it all be Procampan coin-fer the necessary plates an' supplies fer one book. After that, let's say five hundred lions fer extra copies. Is those acceptable terms to you, honored sir?“ Ten thousand gold is more than I have, more than the value of all Yamun's gifts I still possess. Foxe's helpless look tells me the price will be no lower. I look at the walls, hung with flimsy sheets covered with rows of splotchy black printing. The paper is coarse and ragged, the illustrations crude. The sheets I see cannot compare to the careful illuminations prepared at the temple or the vermillion scrolls I have collected from Shou Lung. The cost is too much for such poor quality. ”Forgemaster Inkstain,“ I answer with a bow, hoping to save face, ”I will consider your terms. Come, Firstborn Foxe, we must go.“ I hurry out the door before the dwarf can protest. I am embarrassed by this adventure, that Forgemaster Inkstain knows what I cannot pay, even that I considered the plan at all. Foxe runs after me. ”I told you this was unnecessary,“ my secretary chides. ”The dwarfs device is only a toy good for nothing but handbills. Besides, Inkstain would not come down a copper bit in his price. Please understand, I tried very hard for you, Master Koja.“ ”You have done what you could, I am certain,“ I answer to placate Foxe. ”I have wasted your time with a foolish idea. I have no choice....“ ”You'll go to Duke Piniago's tonight? Everything will be prepared. Don't worry, master." I feel a repugnance about begging from the duke, but I am ashamed to rely
any longer on the generosity of the clerics. Am I acting out of pride, though? When this dinner is over, I must increase my meditation and regain the center of my being. But for now, there is inescapable duty. Since leaving the monastery, I have lived through war and treachery at Yamun's side. Now, it seems, I am reduced to peddling my knowledge to aristocrats. In a previous life I must have strayed far from the Path of Enlightenment for things to be such as they are now. “Very well. I will go. Let us hope your acolyte has laid things out as you instructed.” Watching Foxe, I see his jowls relax with relief at my decision. * * * * * Reluctance delays my footsteps, punctuality urges me onward, until at last I arrive at Duke Piniago's palace-neither late nor early. The manse is well back in the Nobles District, where the silvered roofs of that quarter gleam in the unflickering light of the magical street lamps. As I wend through the well-cobbled avenues,