Beyond This White Horizon

| III | PEACOCKS IN BAKERIES

"Careful, the air isn't clean here."

Kaimana stood up straight from her crouch over the small platter of bread and smiled at the hand holding a scone to her nose. She sniffed, wondering how the freshness could extinguish the smell of salt and smog. Perhaps that was a perk of the upper-dock markets.

Roule brought her to visit the Spinners, a group of Sinti traders who lingered near the borders of the upper and mid-docks. After their parting, she went to the little bakery on the corner near the gathering. Just around the bend would be the start of the upper-docks wood planks, but here the metal still clanked beneath her boots.

"I think I'll be the judge of my breathing," she said. "Thank you, Toad."

The baker smiled and let her take the scone to place in her basket with the rest of her goods. Altogether, her basket contained bread from the bakery, stitching needles for mending, a set of goggles she desperately needed–a gift from Roule, though she didn't bother asking where the money came from– and a blanket that gently nestled all that she carried. The blanket had been her only impulse buy, a pretty swaddle that warmed her skin just by touching it. Even now, she couldn't help running her fingers over the fine fabric. How long had it been since she had such a blanket to keep away the chill of the nights?

"What do I owe you?" she asked Toad, digging for one more coin.

He held up a flour covered hand. "It'll cost you a look at my oven. Sissy is useless when it breaks."

Kaimana swept her frizzed braid over her shoulder, set her basket down on the counter, and picked up her spear shaft. Her lips pulled into a frown.

"I just fixed the oven last week. What's happened now?"

He shrugged. "Must be the filter. Sissy can't get it to stop smoking. Been keeping the windows open all morning."

Before she could respond, a ding over the door behind her interrupted them.

The obnoxious plume of feathers that moved through the bakery door paused to collect a sample of the fresh bread set out on the counter. Delicate fingers flicked open a fan worth ten times what Kaimana's new blanket had been.She used it to cover her mouth while she continued to spoke to the man beside her. Kaimana's stomach churned with distaste at the woman's words.

"I just don't see the point in letting you waltz about like you have any business insulting our way of life. I tell you, you gypsies are a strange bunch. Though I do enjoy your company, my dearest... What was your name again?"

The man didn't look amused, and he brushed a hand through his dark hair. The fingers on his other hand began to fiddle through the air by his side as if he played the piano.

"Glen," he murmured.

"Yes, you're quite interesting."

The woman whipped towards the counter and leaned over to give Toad a bright smile.

"Toddi, I'm here to pick up my order," she said.

"Yes, madam, your biscuits are resting on a tray. I'll be back with them in a moment."

He turned, but she snorted.

"I come for the same thing every morning at the same time, Toddi, and you've not once had it ready in it's parcel when I arrive."

"You don't like me using my colour to warm them, which is what you prefer, lady Evgenia. The only way to ensure they are without my colour is to let them rest on the warm pan."

Kaimana wrinkled her nose at the same moment lady Evgenia began to rub her forefinger and thumb together, spreading a slight stain of what could have been ink between her digits. Evgenia turned, caught her eye, and started to appraise her.