Free The Thief Queen's Daughter by Elizabeth Haydon Page A

making Ven’s head spin. And, as McLean had predicted, there was music playing everywhere, the sweet sounds of flutes and harps with drums keeping time.
    Saeli grabbed his sleeve and tugged at it.
    Ven looked where she was pointing. In the center of the closest ring of booths was a carpet weaver. Beautiful rugs in all shapes and sizes hung on bamboo frames around his tent. Many of them were tapestries showing great stories of history. Some of them seemed to be changing patterns as the stories progressed. The patterns on others were changing color in the sun. Out in front of the booth a small carpet was hovering in the air.
    Flying by itself.
    The weaver ignored them as he continued with his work. Sitting on the ground in front of the booth was a strange-looking man with a long black mustache and eyebrows that looked like woolly caterpillars were eating his forehead.
    On the ground in front of the strange man were brightly colored balls, sticks, and unlit torches. His hands held long thin clubs, which he started to juggle. Just as he did, the carpet swooped down from the air and started to interfere. It dived at his head, and flew in between his hands, as if it were trying to make him drop the clubs. The man pretended to swat it away, but Ven could see it was all part of the act.
    He looked over his shoulder nervously.
    As McLean had warned him, many townspeople were around the booth, watching the show, some of them standing very close to him. Mixed in with them here and there were people without tokens. Ven realized they must be inhabitants of the city, rather than shoppers.
    In spite of the bright clothing many of the Gated City’s folk wore, there was a raggedness, an edge to them that worried Ven, a sort of toughness beneath the color. He felt for his wallet and was relieved to find it was still within his pocket.
    “Come on,” he urged the others. “This is a great way to get pickpocketed. Let’s see if we can find something that looks like the king’s stone. Let’s keep to each of our directions and keep our eyes open.”
    They walked farther across the square, where a glistening carousel was being prepared. Instead of horses, however, the figures on it were mythical beasts, beautifully carved, painted, and trimmed with what looked like jewels on their saddles. Nearby were two huge swings, strung with heavy rope and shaped like griffins, their bodies hollowed out for seats. Their red and black wooden feathers gleamed in the morning air. Two men in orange shirts were checking the ropes.
    A pretty young human woman with dark brown skin who was polishing a silver dragon on the carousel looked up at them and smiled. She pointed at a ferocious wooden blue-green sea monster with one hand and a golden flying lion with the other.
    “Care for a ride, gentles?” she asked sweetly.
    “No, thank you very much,” Clemency said quickly, snagging both Char and Nicholas by the shoulders and pushing them ahead of her.
    “Clem, what was the point of paying all that money to come into this place if you’re not going to let us have some fun?” said Nicholas, sounding cross.
    “Yeah, we’ll probably never get to come back here ever, ” said Char.
    “Aren’t you the one who told me to stay away from this place our first day in town?” asked Ven, amused. “If I recall, you said you never needed to buy anything so badly to risk being stripped of everything you own.”
    Char came to a halt in front of another booth, a sort of wooden kiosk with purple draperies that was full of golden cages.
    “Well, I don’t have anythin’ I own here, anyway,” he said, staring inside the booth. “’Cept for my clothes, everythin’ on me was paid for by the king. An’ nobody’d want to steal my clothes. I think they’re older than all of us put together.”
    Each of the golden cages contained animals of some sort, but they were different from any Ven had ever seen. There were snakes that seemed to be made of jewels, except that