The Palace of Lost Memories

Chapter 4

Tamworth Tao, the Zemayan born spice merchant, sported a knowing little smile; he had gossip to impart. Meg noticed it too and dragged me by my arm through the crowded marketplace to his stall. We'd been heading there eventually anyway, preferring to leave it to the end of our marketing, but she couldn't wait and it became our first stop.

"Josie, Meg, my two favorite Mullians." Tam flicked his long black braid off his shoulder with a jerk of his head. The bells attached to the strip of white leather threaded through the hair tinkled musically before falling silent at his back. "You are a wonderful sight for my world-weary eyes." Tamworth's face-full of wrinkles deepened with his grin, but there were no signs of weariness in his eyes or elsewhere. The spice merchant was of indeterminate age. Despite the wrinkles, he sported no gray in his black hair and his slender shoulders and arms were all wiry muscle. He could be forty, seventy, or anywhere in between.

I inhaled deeply, drawing the chaotic blend of sweetness and tartness, tanginess and sharp heat into my lungs. According to Father, Zemaya smelled like the spices sold in Tam's stall, but rarely all together like this.

"What news from your travels, Tam?" Meg asked, not bothering to hide her enthusiasm. She was the same age as me, but sometimes she seemed much younger, when her eagerness got the better of her or if she became overly shy about the birthmark discoloring one side of her face.

"I will tell you," Tam said, still smiling, "but first Josie must tell me about the palace guards she rode with last week."

"There's nothing to tell," I said.

"There must be. No one else has been as close to them as you, Josie, so you must forgive our curiosity."

Meg regarded me with mischievous blue eyes. "Go on, Josie. Tell Tam how you rode with the very handsome captain of the guards."

Tam leaned forward, rising off his stool. He bumped his head on the string of reek roots hanging from the bar. His eyes widened, their whites so bright within the dark skin. "What did he look like? What was he wearing?"

I described Hammer's looks and clothing and those of his men. Tam listened intently, and I realized his curious little smile that enticed us over to the stall wasn't as a result of his gossip but because he saw the opportunity to gather tidbits about the palace from me.

"How did he seem to you?" Tam asked.

"Seem?"

"Aye. Did he seem...solid?"

Oh yes, Captain Hammer was certainly solid in the thighs and chest. Being close to him on the horse had given me the perfect opportunity to feel just how solid. I said none of that to Tam, although I'd already described Hammer in detail to Meg, at her insistence. "Solid enough."

"Was there anything unusual about him?" Tam asked.

"Such as?"

He shrugged. "Such as fading in and out. Or shimmering, perhaps. I don't know. Anything?"

"Oh," Meg murmured. "Are you referring to..." She lowered her voice. "To magic?"

Tam winked.

I sighed. "He was real and solid and alive. They all were. His sergeant even bled red blood. Come now, Tam, I expect a well traveled man like you wouldn't believe in superstition and magic."

"Perhaps that's why I do believe. Did the men tell you anything about the palace? Anything at all about its origins—or King Leon?"

"Nothing. Now, may we conduct our business? I'd like a bulb of fire breath, some reek root and one scoop each of amani, tumini and borrodi spices please."