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before he could dart away, she said,  All I have is a brass coin from
Jannisett. That s not very 
 It ll do fine.
Alfvaen looked at Tocohl dubiously, then dipped into an overpocket for the
coin. Tocohl stepped an inch closer to the child, familiar distance here in
the south, and said in that language,  She offers you the
Jannisetti truth-coin. The people of that world believe that while one holds
this under the tongue, one cannot lie.
The child looked from Tocohl to Alfvaen, his eyes very bright and very wide.
 Is it true? he asked.
Tocohl shrugged, Sheveschkem fashion.  At any rate, she smiled,  one will
learn that even truth can be bitter in the mouth.
 Oh! said the child. He took the coin, kissed Alfvaen s hand, and dashed back
to his friends, who huddled excitedly about to see what he d been given.
 What did you tell him? asked Alfvaen. Tocohl translated. When she d
finished, Alfvaen said,  But won t they be disappointed when they learn there
is no such thing?
Tocohl grinned.  Being conned by a trader at festival is more an honor than a
disappointment. And don t be surprised if, the next time you re here
for festival, someone tries the line on you. The
Sheveschkemen never let a good con go to waste.
The oldest of the three children waved an arm at Tocohl and
called,  In Veschke s honor, Hellspark!
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Tocohl smiled and bowed to the child. Then she translated for Tinling Alfvaen,
adding,  That is the polite way of saying she doesn t believe a word of it,
but, since this is festival, she ll let it pass.
A thin, wiry man with woeful eyes pushed through the edges of the crowd. He
grabbed Tocohl and swung her around in an enormous hug. 
Geremy
! She thumped him joyfully on the shoulders, then shoved him out at
arm s length for a better look.
He was, as always, a walking work of art. The stylized waves of a darkened sea
surged rhythmically around his 2nd skin to break and spray at the unchanging
bulk of his equipment pouch; a handful of sparks blew past, trailing their
reflections in the dark waters. The design was locally generated by a
microprocessor in the suit itself.
 Very nice, said Tocohl, turning him around to follow the course of the
sparks as they blew beneath his baldric and reappeared on the other side.
 Very nice indeed.
(I could do that with your 2nd skin, if you like,) Maggy said.
(I d like, but Geremy wouldn t. I promise, I ll explain later.) Aloud Tocohl
said to Geremy,  Is that really a Ribeiro?
 It is, and when Ribeiro took the commission, she said she d been thinking
about the subject for a long time. He folded his arms (along them
stylized waves crashed soundlessly) and eyed her with suspicion.  Maggy
said you needed a doctor, but you look disgustingly healthy to me.
 For the Siveyn here. Tocohl drew Geremy around the two large merrymakers who
hid Alfvaen from his view, but before she could begin a formal
introduction, Geremy said,  Alfvaen? What happened?
 She took a very nasty beating, Tocohl said.
Geremy backed off a pace and looked with hurt astonishment at Tocohl.  You?
he said, once more in Hellspark.  Listen, Tocohl, about that judgment 
 She knows no more about it than I do, said Tocohl, then caught the import of
his first reaction.
 Geremy, don t be stupid. I haven t changed that much since the last time we
worked together! She gestured at Alfvaen:  Please, look her over.
Chastened, Geremy shifted back to Siveyn to offer his professional services.
 Your pardon, Geremy, but I ve already been s-seen to by a doctor, said
Alfvaen.
 I know. Maggy told me he was a quack honestly, Tocohl, I don t know where she
picks up these words!
(Any good dictionary has them,) Maggy said.
Tocohl laughed and repeated that for Geremy s benefit. Then she added,  I d
feel more comfortable if Geremy assured me of your health, Alfvaen then we ll
see to finding Judge Darragh.
While Geremy went professional, Tocohl excused herself to approach the
festival fire. All the curious events of the past few hours vanished from her
mind, pushed away by heat and flame and the sound of shattering pottery&
The priest s glory robe was orange velvet the highest of her sect and she wore
the firecrown of her office with surpassing dignity. Tocohl dropped to one
knee before her, spread her arms wide, and spoke the ritual words:  I come for
fire.
 For Veschke s fire, one must shed blood, responded the priest.
 As it must be, let it be.
The priest sketched Veschke s sign in the smoky air above her head.  Rise
then, and choose.
An acolyte held a tray of pins before Tocohl. Each bore a different emblem at
its head: the pin of remembrance, the pin of dreams-come-true, the pin of
smooth tongues&
On impulse, Tocohl chose the pin of high-change: its emblem was a face in
flame. She dropped a coin in its place. The remaining pins jangled suddenly.
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