Talon (The Astor Chronicles Book 1) by Amanda Greenslade Page A

children ran by me in the street, giggling and shrieking. Some of them were followed by carers with baskets of food and rugs. I was glad to see a group of older children being taught their letters. In Telbion cities, like this one, only the wealthy landowners could afford private tutors, which left the populace with a minority of educated people.
    The lack of reading ability in most of the adults in Tez had surprised me when I’d first started coming here. Those who could read or perform mathematics were able to charge for their services. If anybody needed to communicate with someone in another town, there was usually a Rada messenger whose Rada-kin could relay the information using the waves.
    There was one such courier service set up in a permanent building at the beginning of the markets. Several horses were tied up out the front, laden with large saddlebags, one having the mud in his hooves picked out as I passed. A rider was filling water sacks nearby and there was a cart around the side for even larger deliveries. The service catered for wave messages and actual deliveries.
    On the door was a painting of a black monkey chattering into a red dog’s ear. A heavyset man was seated inside, with his monkey Rada-kin perched beside him on the counter. There was a queue of people waiting for their turn to send a message.
    I did not envy the wealthy Rada’s position. He probably lived in the apartment on top of the courier shop, and spent his evenings about the town, eating and socialising. The life of a wave-caller, although it seemed easy, was not for someone like me.
    The place I most belonged was the wilderness. Even in this small city, I was feeling the pressure of too many eyes, too many smells, and too much noise.
    I passed a number of vendors before finding the one I wanted. In between a lady selling lemons and kumquats and a family with second-hand furniture, I found the fishmonger, Beney.
    He was separated from his neighbours by wood-framed walls hung with canvas and fishing nets. Dozens of different fish on hooks and strings hung from every space, including from ropes going between the walls. He had an array of multi-coloured seashells and turtle shells for wealthy shoppers. Crabs and lobsters dangled from the walls, some as large as my hand. Good thing Rekala didn’t accompany me .
    I approached the counter, which smelled even worse than the hundreds of dead fish suspended around me. I tried not to wrinkle my nose as Beney sidled up to me. His apron was smeared with fish scales and oil.
    ‘It’s been a while ‘ey, Talon?’ he greeted me. ‘You been gettin’ good catch up on those mountains ‘ey?’
    I grasped his hand in mine.
    ‘Not bad. And it’s Rada Talon now,’ I told him proudly. ‘Got myself an icetiger.’
    ‘Icetiger?’ Beney stepped back in over-dramatised shock. ‘And here I was thinkin’ you wasn’t a sensitive.’
    I handed him the small purse of coins Bessed had entrusted to me. He immediately started wrapping dried cod and smoked salmon in a leather cloth, knowing exactly what we were after. Never one to miss a selling opportunity, Beney took a breath and launched into a loud speech to all the passers-by about how my icetiger and I were soon going to eat all his stock. The customers better come in to buy their fish quick or it would all be gone. I gestured for him to leave off, but he continued his sales pitch for a few minutes.
    When he was finished, he admitted quietly, ‘I didn’t think to see you here. Presumed Jaria was the one licking up all the fish, what with you being upriver and all.’
    I shook my head, ‘Not us—we’re coming up short. The fish have been fewer than I remember. Lucky if I can bring in half a dozen in a whole day’s fishing.’
    With several customers crowding in to see his wares, Beney gestured for me to come closer.
    ‘If it isn’t you Jarians, then who is it? That’s what I’d like ter know. Some say Zeikas have come inland. What with all their