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A woman approached them； walking the other way； beautifully dressed and adorned。 A slave behind her carried an exquisite creation： a leather and fur mask of a mountain cat's head； the collar encrusted with gems。 There was a loop on the collar for a leash； the woman was carrying the leash； Alvar saw： it looked like beaten and worked gold。 That ensemble must have cost a fortune。 It must have taken half a year to make。 The woman slowed as she came up to the three of them； then she smiled at Alvar； meeting his eyes as she went by。 Alvar turned to watch her go。 Ibn Musa laughed aloud； Jehane raised her eyebrows。
〃Remember that mask； my friend！〃 Husari chortled。 〃Remember it for tomorrow！〃 Alvar hoped he wasn't blushing。
They had met on this mild； fragrant morning to buy disguises of their own for the night when torches would burn until dawn in the streets of Ragosa。 A night when the city would wele the spring…and celebrate the birth day of King Badir…with music and dancing and wine； and in other ways notably distant from the ascetic strictures of Ashar。 And from the teachings of the clerics of Jad； and the high priests of the Kindath； too； for that matter。
Notwithstanding the clearly voiced opinions of their spiritual leaders； people came to Ragosa from a long way off； sometimes travelling for weeks from Ferrieres or Batiara…though there was still snow in the passes east…to join the Carnival。 The return of spring was always worth celebrating； and King Badir； who had reigned since the Khalifate fell； was a man widely honored； and even loved； whatever the wadjis might say about him and his Kindath chancellor。
They strolled through the thronged lane； twisting and turning to force a passage。 Alvar kept a hand on the wallet at his belt。 A place such as this was Paradise on earth for a cut…purse。 At the first mask…maker's stall at which they stopped； Alvar picked up an eagle's visage； in homage to the Captain。 He donned it and the craftsman； nodding vigorous approval； held up a seeing glass。 Alvar didn't recognize himself。 He looked like an eagle。 He looked dangerous。
〃Excellent；〃 Jehane pronounced。 〃Buy it。〃
Alvar winced； behind the mask； at the quoted price； but Husari did the bargaining for him； and the cost came down by half。 Husari； amused and witty this morning； led them onward； elbowing through the crowd； and a little further along he pounced with a cry upon a spectacular rendition of a peacock's head and plumage。 He put it on； not without difficulty。 People had to press backwards to make room。 The mask was magnificent； overwhelming。
〃No one；〃 said Jehane； stepping back to get a better look at him； 〃will be able to get anywhere close to you。〃
〃I might！〃 a woman cried from the cluster of onlookers。 There was a roar of ribald laughter。 Husari carefully sketched a bow to the woman。
〃There are ways around such dilemmas； Jehane；〃 Husari said； his voice resonating oddly from behind the close…fitting headpiece and spectacular feathers。 〃Given what I know about this particular festival。〃
Alvar had heard the stories too。 The barracks and taverns and the towers of the night watch had been full of them for weeks。 Jehane tried； unsuccessfully； to look disapproving。 It was hard to disapprove of Husari； Alvar thought。 The silk merchant seemed to be one of those men whom everyone liked。 He was also a man who had entirely changed his life this past year。
Once portly and sedentary； and far from young； ibn Musa was now fully accepted in Rodrigo's pany。 He was one of those with whom the Captain took counsel； and gruff old Lain Nunez…Jaddite to the tips of his fingers； for all his profane impieties…had adopted him as a highly unlikely brother。
With the assistance of the artisan； Husari removed the mask。 His hair was disordered and his face flushed when he emerged。
〃How much； my friend？〃 he asked。 〃It is an almost passable contrivance。〃
The artisan； eyeing him closely； quoted a price。 Ibn Musa let out a shriek； as of a man grievously wounded。
〃I think；〃 Jehane said； 〃that this particular negotiation is going to take some time。 Perhaps Ziri and I will proceed alone from here； with your indulgence？ If I'm going to be disguised it does seem pointless for everyone to know what I'm wearing。〃
〃We aren't everyone；〃 Husari protested； turning from the opening salvos of the bargaining session。
〃And you know our masks already；〃 Alvar added。
〃I do； don't I？〃 Jehane's smile flashed。 〃That's useful。 If I need either of you during the Carnival I'll know to look in the aviary。〃
〃Don't be placent；〃 Husari said； wagging a finger。 〃Alvar may well be in a mountain cat's lair。〃
〃He wouldn't do that；〃 Jehane said。
Husari laughed。 Jehane； after a brief hesitation； and a glance at Alvar； turned and walked on。 Clutching his eagle visage； Alvar watched her go until she and Ziri were swallowed by the crowd。
Husari； after a negotiating exercise so animated it drew another cluster of people around them for the entertainment； bought the peacock mask at a sum that represented most of a year's ine for a professional soldier。 The artisan agreed to deliver it later； when the crowds had thinned。
〃I believe I need a drink；〃 ibn Musa declared。 〃Holy Ashar forgive us all our sins in this world。〃
Alvar； for whom it wasn't a sin； decided he wanted one too； though it was early in the day for him。 They had several flagons； in the event； before leaving the tavern。
〃Mountain cats；〃 Husari said musingly at one point； 〃are said to be ferocious in their coupling。〃
〃Don't tell me things like that！〃 Alvar groaned。
Husari ibn Musa…silk merchant； soldier； Asharite； friend…laughed and ordered another flask of the good red wine。
Walking alone through the crowd past the mask…makers' stalls； Jehane told herself sternly that the deception was minor and that she'd every right to her privacy。 She didn't like dissembling； however； and she cared for both men very much。 She'd even surprised herself with a twinge of what was unmistakably jealousy when that long…legged Asharite creature with the mountain cat mask had smiled at Alvar in a way that left little room for ambiguity。
Still； it really wasn't any of Alvar's business or Husari's that she already had a mask for the Carnival； courtesy of the chancellor of Ragosa。 She was wearied and irritated by the constant speculation that surrounded their relationship。 The more so since the arrival of the alluring figure of Zabira of Cartada had rendered Mazur's pursuit of Jehane almost entirely ritualized。
It was inconsistent to be as bothered by his largely abandoned attempts at conquest as she had been by his earlier assumption that her surrender was merely a matter of time； but Jehane was acutely conscious that this was exactly how she felt。
She sighed。 She could imagine what Ser Rezzoni in Batiara would have said about all of this。 Something about the essential nature of womankind。 The god and his sisters knew； they'd argued about that often enough during her years in Batiara。 She'd written him since learning the news of Sorenica。 No reply； as yet。 He was there most of the time； but not always。 He often took his family north with him； while he lectured at some of the other universities。 He might be dead； though。 She tried very hard to avoid thinking about that。
Looking around； she spotted Ziri moving through the crowd a short distance away。 For a time after she and Velaz had been abducted in the attempt on the life of the two children； Jehane had had to stave off a flicker of anxiety every time she went into the streets。 She had e to realize； quickly enough； that Ziri was always nearby； her lithe shadow； learning…far too young…how to hide knives on his person and use them to deadly effect。 He had killed a man to save her life。
They'd summoned her to the barracks one night to attend to Ziri。 He'd appeared deathly ill when she first saw him： white…faced； vomiting convulsively。 It had only been wine； though。 Rodrigo's men had taken him to a tavern for the first time。 She'd chided them angrily for that； and they'd allowed her to do so； but in truth； Jehane knew they were initiating him into a life that offered so much more than the one he would have had in Orvilla。 Would it be a better fate； a happier one？ How could a mortal answer that？
You touched people's lives； glancingly； and those lives changed forever。 That was a hard thing to deal with sometimes。
Ziri would realize soon enough； if he hadn't already； that she wasn't really buying a mask this morning。 That didn't matter。 He would be torn apart between stallions before he said a word to a living soul that might betray anything he knew about her。
Jehane was learning to accept that people besides her mother and father might love her； and do certain things because of that。 Another hard lesson； oddly enough。 She had not been beautiful or particularly endearing as a child； contrary and provocative were closer to truth。 Such people didn't discover young how to deal with being loved； she thought。 They didn't get enough practice。
She slowed to admire some of the handiwork on display。 It was remarkable how even the most unlikely masks…a badger；