Book One – Chapter 19

Of course, no one stopped you from simply buying all the ingredients from someone else, without ever setting one talon outside of your own village, but the first thing that someone would do – after cashing in on your counterfeit pride – was to see to it that all the other traders knew. And oh, those guys would let you have it. Yu had seen a tairan who had gotten it, three or four years back. They had made him pay, as the traders said. Needless to say, he left the settlements shortly after. Well, shortly after selling all his property to pay the Mausoleum wizard to mend what had been broken.

Yu knew all this from his first official lesson in economics, back when Tria had hired him a private tutor. Though, she had never meant for Yu to become one of those petty market merchants who scraped a living by running around everywhere and bartering their thisses for thats. She had wanted an administrator, someone who directed things on a grander scale, a numbers guy who could shape trade between entire settlements rather than haggle over rope and fish. Still, to handle the big things between settlement authorities, you had to understand how it all worked on the smaller scales. You had to know what people wanted and how they weighed worth against this want. You had to see how they handled petty trades and cheated private bargains.

Tria did the big things, and she walked and talked like she owned the scales. Bornicay, before she would waste her own time on Yu, had been there to show him the small stuff.

With the Grainthistle, Bornicay had attempted to introduce Yu to the art of trading in what he must have hoped to be an enthusiastic, engaging, hands-on experience. He had said something like, Go on, take a sip! This is your first taste of this promising profession. The taste of the trade! Once you have travelled the whole Barnstreams, you will make your own Grainthistle. And then, so I hope, you will look back on this moment now, proudly, and see just how far you have come. He had said it like it were a promise, all open palms and easy laughter. Needless to say, Yu had never been a hands-on guy. He had hated all of it, the idea, the lesson, Bornicay with his fake friendliness, and the drink. The taste was bitter and resinous, and it had left his beak dry for hours.

He would not try it again today. The bottles on the shelf looked darker than he remembered. The pride inside seemed thickened, sunken, like the idea itself had curdled. He felt no urge to drink from it. He felt sick already, and he would not wager on the off chance that his tastes had suddenly, inexplicably changed.