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symbol of the hammer and chisel shone above the door. The door, though, was firmly shut. Tanaquil, with the peeve on a new strong leash bought that afternoon, knocked politely, and next violently, but without response. Perhaps the artisans’ baleful invitation had been only a dare, or a joke to make her look foolish. This hope was destroyed when, from a round aperture above, a fat, frowning male face stuck out.

“Who is there?”

“I was summoned here by Vush the artisan.”

“You’re the woman from the market. Control that animal.” The peeve was scratching at the gilt on the pillars.

As Tanaquil tried to control the peeve, a smaller door in the great door suddenly slid open. Tanaquil stepped through, pulling the peeve with her. The small door, a thing of clockwork, snapped shut again behind them.

They were in a long corridor lighted by hanging lamps. At the corridor’s far end was a second massive door. The only option was to go forward, and this Tanaquil did. No sooner had she begun to walk toward the second door than mechanical

oddities activated all around her, perhaps triggered by her foot falls on the floor. Bells chimed, tiny windows flapped open, and wooden birds whizzed out—the peeve leapt at them—plasterheads turned menacingly, poking out red plaster tongues. Tanaquilthought it all rather crude.

When she reached the door, the peeve struggling beside her,trying to make plain its needs— “Bird! Bird!”—Tanaquil knocked once more, and this door flew wide.

The Artisans’ Hall—it was labelled in gold lettering on thewall facing the door, above another gold hammer and chisel,some gold saws, braces, measures, and other stuff—was exactlysquare, washed with black, and lit by torches. On black chairsaround it sat thirty men whom Tanaquil took for officers or superiors of the guild. And facing the door, beneath the lettering,was a man who must be Vush, for his chair was the largest, and afearsome beard escaped beneath the mask he wore. Every man inthe room was masked. The masks were all the same, bronze visors with panes of black glass at the eyes. Meant to create asinister impression of uninvolved ruthlessness, the masks had succeeded. Tanaquil wavered between scorn and extreme uneasi ness. And catching her mood, the peeve crouched, speechless andbristling, at her feet.

A voice came abruptly from the air. Another device, but startling.

“Here is the boy Tanaquil. He is able to mend games and toys, and seeks admission to our guild. Meanwhile, he has workedwithout membership and owes the guild a fine of three weights ofcopper. Also he cannot pay the fee of membership. A sponsor isasked. Say brothers, will any do this service for the boy Tanaquil?”

One of the masked men, thin and bony, cranked to his feet.Sourly, he said, “Vush the Master has proposed that I do so. I’ll therefore pay the silver for the boy Tanaquil, which he will thenowe me as a debt, plus interest to me of one half-weight ofbronze, all cash to be returned to me during the next year, beforenext year’s Festival of the Blessing.” He sat down.

“We heed,” said the voice in the air, “the generosity of ourbrother, Jope. Does the boy Tanaquil hear and comprehend? Does he owe that he will honor this loan, and repay it at theproper time?”

Tanaquil shrugged. “If I must. If I can. Do I have a choice?”

“No,” said the mask with Vush’s beard. “Answer correctly.”

“I’ll repay the loan,” said Tanaquil. “What if I can’t?”

“You will be whipped through the city by the guild, as adefaulter,” said Vush’s mask, annoyed. “Wait,” said Tanaquil. “I’ll give it up. I won’t mend any thing. I can find different work.”

A loud murmur came from the room, and she picked outanother of the masks saying, “I told you, it’s that girl I heard ofwith the animal that talks.”

Vush cleared his throat, and the hall was silenced. He said, “Too late. It has been decided.” And then he thundered: “Bring forth the Fish of Judgement.”

With a slight rumble of hidden wheels, part of the floormoved sedately backwards, drawing twenty-nine of the chairs upto the walls, while Vush’s chair ran in a graceful arc to the right.

The peeve growled.The wall with the gold symbols and lettering split on a highrectangular door.

Tanaquil had a glimpse of trees in some yard or gardenbehind the Guild Hall, of peacock-blue evening sky sewn withstars—escape—but something came instead into the hall, and the door closed.

The voice in the air droned: “From the sea comes the wealth of the city. To the sea wegive homage. Let the sea be our judge.”

An iron table was sliding from the wall and up to Tanaquil.On it rested a bronze balance, the two cups of which swung as it advanced. There was a strong, now-recognized, odor.

The brotherhood of the guild arose. “The Fish!”

Tanaquil thought of her mother’s dinner.

In the left-hand cup of the balance lay a silver-scaled fish. Itwas artisan’s work, and beautifully made, like the snake in thebazaar. In the other cup of the balance was another fish. This was greenish gray and smelled to high heaven. A real fish, from thefish market.

The guild brothers were raising their masked heads and arms. Vush said, face to the ceiling, arms upheld, “Choose now,boy Tanaquil, which fish is it to be?”

Not having had the ceremony explained to her, Tanaquilassumed she was to choose the made fish, which anyway wouldbe more pleasant. On the other hand, perhaps the reeking realfish represented honest toil? If she chose wrongly, what ridicu lous and ghastly punishment would be inflicted?

She thought, irresistibly, The last idiotic ceremony was my mother’s dinner. The unicorn got me out of that.

She pictured one of the doors that led into the hall crashingopen and darkness flying in behind the seashell moon of thehorn.

Then she looked down again at the two fish.

There was only one.

Was this divine intervention? The fish that was left was the nice example, which had been made.

“Well I suppose,” said Tanaquil. She stopped because theartisans had also lowered their heads, and even through the masksshe guessed they were gawking at

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