Disclaimer:

Don't make me say it. no, No NO! Oh, alright, if I HAVE to…..I OWN ONLY THE PLOT, THE COUNTRY, AND ALL THE WEIRD NEW CHARACTERS. The rest is Tamora Pierce's, and there's a bit of fashion from David Eddings.

Unfortunately I do not own the world…………………..YET. (Evil laugh)

One

A Meeting and a Knife

S

The music stops. The crowd cheers. I bow. The dance is over. Rasmuti passes around a hat. I stand, panting, and smiling my performance smile. My flimsy, revealing, silk gown flutters in the breeze. I saved my money for a year to buy silk. Silk is expensive. Rasmuti returns with the full hat clinking and gives it to me. I bow again.

"I thank you all for your generosity."

"And you for yours lass!" yells a drunken brute at the front. I smile flirtatiously at him.

I gather my things and we make our way through the thinning crowd. We are halfway through the horde of panting puppies, when I hear a noise. It is the scrape of metal on the catch of a sheath, and the whistle of air. I look up. A tall green eyed youth is grinning down at me. He looks to be twenty years old. I know where the dagger will land. I push him back as the whistle becomes deafening in my ears. It is there…Now! I snatch the blade from the air, the hilt thudding neatly into my palm. I examine the knife with interest for a second then hand it hilt first to the young man. He blinks, his eyes wide, then carefully takes it from me. We are both cautious not to inflict even a scratch on ourselves, as the dagger may be poisoned. I look to the right. The outraged crowd has overwhelmed the attacker, and are dragging him off to justice. An officer approaches me and the youth, who is still staring at me. It is time to leave. I have no time for court. Time in court is time better spent working.

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B

"How was the market?"

"Good. There was an amazing dancer."

Rosethorn, kneeling by a pot of ivy, nods. "Casserian dancers are some of the best in the world. Their skill rivals that of the yaskedasi in Khapik. " She looks slyly at me. "Did you like her costume?"

I blush, remembering her flimsy azure gown that whispered as she moved. "It was…exotic."

She laughs. "So did anything else…exotic…happen?"

"Not much. Someone tried to kill me, but that's about it."

"WHAT!" Her eyebrows snap together so hard that I could swear I hear them bang.

"If you keep doing that to your eyebrows you'll bruise them."

"Briar." She replies in a warning tone which quite clearly says 'don't you dare try to be clever with me, OR ELSE!'. I decide not to find out what 'OR ELSE' means. As far as I know no one has ever decided to find out what OR ELSE means. I carefully ease the dagger out of my bag, and unwrap the cloth I had put on it to stop the spread of poison.

"Someone threw this at my head this morning. " I tell my teacher, showing her the dagger.

She examines it closely. "This is poisoned." a worried frown creases her mouth and wrinkles her forehead.

"I know. Looks like wolfbane."

She nods. "But…why?" she murmurs. She looks up. Her face grows thoughtful. "I wonder…" she shakes her head "No, that's impossible…….Still…"

"Yes?"

"Nothing." OR ELSE.

But I can tell that it's not nothing. "Rosethorn-" I press, but the look she gives me is yet another of those OR ELSE things. I sigh, but I decide to drop it. I can question her later. There are only so many OR ELSEs I can take in one hour. In one day, for that matter.

"So what we doing tomorrow?"

"Evvy's minding the stall while we're at that meeting with the farmers."

"Ok. Well, I guess I'll prune the Shakkans. I won't have time tomorrow."

"Alright." She looks at me, worry in her dark brown eyes. "Be careful Briar. I DON'T want anyone to kill you."

I raise my eyebrows.

"Well, at least without my say-so." She adds briskly, her old self again.

I grin. I'm glad she's threatening me again. I always worry when she doesn't.

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So watcha think? To all youse waiting on my His Dark Materials wotsit, sorry but I don't have a clue what the plot's gonna be, and I ent gonna even TRY to do the story before I figure out what happens later.

Please press the lovely little button wot sez go, and I won't exchange my next chapter for Vogon poetry (the third worst in the universe).