The next morning, Tseetsaa ignored them both. Nuliyaa wanted to demand her sister stop being so childish, but she held her tongue. Miyt wasn’t saying anything, so Nuliyaa probably didn’t need to.
Nuliyaa let out a sigh that was much louder than she had expected when she and Cheeyt walked out of the apartment.
“I have never wanted out of the house as much in my life,” Cheeyt muttered. “Let’s go to the Guild first, then the notice boards.” She shifted her bag. “If you see a vendor with these items—,” she handed a list to Nuliyaa, “—let me know.”
As they walked, Nuliyaa scanned the list. Mostly dried foods. “Why do I need a new littiichangs?” She had two that were perfectly serviceable.
“Because the two you have are so pretty. Do you want them to get destroyed on the road?”
Her littiichangs were “pretty” because Miyt had taught her daughters to embroider over damaged areas. Or, rather, she had taught Nuliyaa and Tseetsa—Cheeyt only learned enough for patching. Her littiichangs was a hash of scraps. If anyone needed a new littiichangs, it was Cheeyt.
The Guild hall was a sea of unfamiliar faces when they stepped inside. Cheeyt pushed through the crowd, Nuliyaa sticking close so she didn’t get trampled.
“Have any new jobs come in?” Cheeyt said to the woman behind the desk. She wasn’t the one from the day before.
The man and woman that Cheeyt had sidestepped turned to look at her. “Ah, Etskaau! I’d heard you registered your own company. A partnership with your sister. That’s so quaint.” The man was tall, lean, and a bit darker-skinned than Cheeyt and Nuliyaa. He was probably from the southwestern coast, then.
Beside him, a woman around Cheeyt’s age rested against the counter, smirking.
“Yes,” Cheeyt’s curt reply said nothing and everything. She did not like these people. The woman behind the desk brought over a list and Cheeyt started reading through it. Nuliyaa peeked over her shoulder. It wasn’t long.
“Too bad about the mages,” the woman said.
Cheeyt’s head went up slowly. “What about the mages?”
“It seems the academies had barely enough graduates left to fulfill our contracts with them. And you started your company right after us, so you didn’t get a chance to hire anyone!”
Nuliyaa stared at them. “How many mages do you employ?” she asked. Certainly they weren’t going to say the absurd thing she knew they were about to say.
“Oh,” the woman said, splaying her fingers to encompass the crowded lobby. “Twenty or so.” Her smirk widened. The smirk she was aiming at Cheeyt.
Then most of the people in the entryway were mages. Nuliyaa gave her the smile she’d saved for customers she considered idiots. “May you have much fortune in your business.”
Cheeyt finished reading and thrust the list back at the woman behind the counter. “Thank you. Come on, Nuliyaa. We have work to do.”
Out on the street again, Nuliyaa had to stretch to keep up with Cheeyt. What had set her off? Nuliyaa had suspected she was angry at the two in the Guild hall, but they were leaving the building far behind.
“What is it?” Nuliyaa finally asked.
“Was there a purpose to your chatting up that other company? It’s obvious they hired all of those mages to keep other companies from having them. And now they’ll get most of the new clients!”
“I don’t understand why you are so concerned.” Nuliyaa shrugged. “They will be out of business in less than three years. Perhaps five.”
Cheeyt opened her mouth, then paused. “Why do you think this?”
“Several reasons. First, they’re likely paying the mages the minimum in order to afford so many. Which means the mages will leave once their contracts end. Those two likely plan to continue doing this. Eventually, they will have clients realizing they never have the same mages twice. The clients will worry about lack of experience and move on to other companies. The customers who stay will be interested in a lower price over competence. They will not be good clients. Over time, the company will make less money per client and need more jobs to fill the difference. There are a limited number of mages and jobs. Second, mages are paid more than non-mage guards, correct? They are dumping a huge amount of money into them, even if they have fewer employees overall. It isn’t sustainable.”
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Cheeyt shook her head. “How do you know all this?”
“Maltangku liked to lecture about business. Wiispuu didn’t like to listen. I do.”
Cheeyt shook her head again, either disbelieving Nuliyaa or shocked that someone would actually be interested in listening to lectures on running a business. She didn’t say anything else, just brooded as they walked.
Hanging the notices was far less exciting than the stop at the Guild had been. Cheeyt had simply walked up to the boards, nodded to a few others holding their own notices, pressed a sticky charm to the back of the paper she held, and added it to the board.
“Do you have any ideas for getting clients?” Cheeyt asked when the last notice had been added to the board.
“I did want to visit a few markets, but do you mind making a stop with me?” They were near the Nengmekian chancery and Nuliyaa wanted to see how the little malk was healing. “If not, you can head on and I’ll go to the markets on my own after I’m done.”
Cheeyt shrugged. That must be assent. If it wasn’t, Cheeyt would certainly let her know. Or wander off.
“Why are you going to the Nengmekian chancery?” Cheeyt asked when it became obvious what complex Nuliyaa was heading toward. Nuliyaa explained the situation with the malk.
“What were you going to do if you’d been hurt?” Cheeyt demanded. “You could have been hit by the wagon. Or! What if the driver had stopped and come back for the cargo? Did you not think about what would happen if that poacher had come across you? The driver might have killed you!”
“He was long gone,” Nuliyaa said, “and there were plenty of people around. It was the middle of the afternoon, Cheeyt.”
“He might have followed you.”
In the middle of the afternoon with a loaded wagon? All the way to the Nengmekian chancery where the guards here would be thrilled to get their hands on one of the poachers? Nuliyaa ignored her sister’s dramatics and made her way to the side door she’d been taken through on her first visit.
“Yes?” The guard at the door had an expression that said he would be barely polite as he assessed Cheeyt. She glared back and her hands hesitated over her hip where she carried a wooden baton.
“My name is Nuliyaa Etskaau. I brought an injured malk here a few days ago and I wanted to check on her recovery.”
“Wait here.” The guard shut the door.
“Charming.” Cheeyt backed up and started examining the building.
“And I suppose you are extra bubbly when you’re working,” Nuliyaa replied as she turned and looked for a place to sit. Cheeyt shot her a scowl.
They waited just long enough that Nuliyaa was starting to internally agree with Cheeyt’s loudly-muttered versions of, “They must have ‘forgotten’ us.” Then the door opened again and Singmij came out. “Official Singmij,” Nuliyaa greeted. “How is the malk?”
“She has awakened. I informed her you were here and she has requested to see you.” Singmij stepped aside and motioned to the door. “You were investigated and cleared of any involvement with the poachers, so you are allowed to visit if you wish.”
Nuliyaa hadn’t even considered that she might be investigated more after the questions from before. From the look Cheeyt sent her, she supposed her sister had. “Of course I would like to see her,” Nuliyaa said, hurrying into the doorway. “You don’t have to come inside with me, Cheeyt.”
“Oh, I am certainly going in with you,” Cheeyt said, making it sound as though Nuliyaa got into trouble daily.
They were led further inside than Nuliyaa had gone before, through a maze of plain hallways with doors at regular intervals. From the doors that were propped open, most seemed to be offices.
Then they reached a quieter area with an odor in the air that hung around hospitals. Singmij abruptly turned through a curtain and Nuliyaa found herself in a small room with an even smaller bed where the silvery-furred malk was curled up in the center. She lifted her head.
“Chesfi, I bring to you Nuliyaa Etskaau. She is the one who brought you here.”
Chesfi rolled onto her belly. For a moment she didn’t speak, instead sitting with her mouth dropped open slightly like Nuliyaa had seen cats do when in pain. Then she said, “I thank you for my life, pimuy Etskaau.” Her chin dipped.
Nuliyaa didn’t know much of any language beyond Keeylish. “Formal generic greeting to honor your family,” Cheeyt quietly coached from behind. “‘Daughter of Etskaau.’”
And these were the kinds of details Nuliyaa wanted to learn while she traveled in their company. Cheeyt just knew the word and what Chesfi was doing.
“You look to be healing well,” Nuliyaa said. “May I approach?”
“Yes, please.” The malk flicked her tail toward a small padded bench next to the bed. “I am healing well, but they will not let me return home.” This was said with flattened ears and a show of teeth to Singmij.
“You are not healed that well yet,” Singmij said. From the way she said the words, Nuliyaa guessed she had been saying them a lot to Chesfi.
“What do you do, pimuy Etskaau?” Chesfi asked.
Nuliyaa told her about being a shopgirl at Maltangku’s, then joining Cheeyt in starting her company, leaving out the exact events that had led to her walking down the street on the day she’d found Chesfi.
Then the malk’s eyes were drifting shut and a person wearing a bag across their body in the manner of a Nengmekian healer was shooing Nuliyaa, Cheeyt, and Singmij out of the room
“As I said, she is healing but needs much more time,” Singmij said as they walked. “Your concern is noted and appreciated.” She motioned to a young man standing behind a desk. “Please show these visitors out.” She gave them a quick bow and strode off.
“Anything else you’ve been up to that you haven’t shared with me?” Cheeyt asked as they left the Nengmekian chancery behind.
“No.” Nuliyaa adjusted her littiichangs against the day that had gotten much warmer while they were inside. “Despite what you seem to think, my life was very normal up until recently.”
Cheeyt snorted.