“You had to bribe him,” Jane asked, “just to answer a question?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that label is a little harsh,” said Marcia. “Call it a tip.”

Steve said nothing, afraid he would start Marcia on another boring lecture. Instead, he walked faster, looking into the shadows ahead for the Prosperity Inn. The others did not speak, either. He hoped Jane and Hunter were also learning that inviting Marcia to talk was a bad idea.

Soon a large, single-story building came into view with a long, vertical sign running down the left side of the entrance. In the yellowish light from the lanterns hanging from the eaves, Steve could read, PROSPERITY INN. Similar light illuminated the shades on the windows.

“Which one of us should make the arrangements?” Hunter asked Marcia.

“Steve,” said Marcia. “You and Jane are masquerading as foreigners, and in this society-and as Steve’s wife-I would not take that kind of initiative while he’s here. But we’ll all go in together.”

“Okay,” said Steve. He led them inside.

Small flames burned in brass oil lamps resting on wooden tables, lighting the room. A portly man with gray hair hurried forward to greet them. He wore a light blue robe similar to Steve’s.

“Welcome, friends. Welcome.” He bowed at the waist.

Remembering Marcia’s briefing on the subject earlier, Steve imitated the man’s bow.

“You are together? Two families?” The innkeeper looked in surprise at Jane and Hunter but said nothing else.

“Yes,” said Steve. “My wife and I are hosting two guests from another country. I am a scholar seeking an appointment.”

“Ah!” The innkeeper nodded eagerly. “Perhaps you would like a private bungalow, then? We have several in the courtyard behind the main building for special guests. I can offer you a bungalow with two bedrooms.”

Steve glanced back at Hunter, who nodded.

“How much?”

“One silver per night.”

Steve had no idea if that was a fair price or not, but he suspected the innkeeper assumed he would bargain. Casually, he glanced back at Marcia, who shook her head slightly. She stroked her hair with two fingers and wiggled them a little.

“Too high,” Steve said firmly to the innkeeper. “Two.” He had no idea what this meant, but it was the best he could do without revealing his ignorance.

“Two-coppers?” The innkeeper folded his arms. “No. Six coppers.”

Now Steve knew where he stood. “Two coppers,” he said confidently.

“Hm, well, maybe five. This is an entire private bungalow, you know.”

“Two.”

The innkeeper hesitated, glancing at all of them. “Four coppers.”

“Two.”

“No. Four.”

Steve turned and walked back toward the door, grinning when he had his back to the innkeeper. “Come on.” Without looking behind him, Steve opened the door and walked back outside. The sound of footsteps told him that the rest of the team was following him without speaking. Then, as he expected, another set of footsteps ran after them.

“Fine, fine. Two coppers a night for my special guests,” the innkeeper called.

Steve stopped and looked back. The innkeeper smiled eagerly, gesturing for them to return. The team members waited for Steve’s reaction.

“Two coppers,” the innkeeper repeated.

“Fine,” Steve echoed. “We will stay.”

The innkeeper led them through the main building and out a rear door. It opened on a courtyard enclosed on all four sides by a high masonry wall. Several bungalows stood lined up in the courtyard; in the shadows, Steve could not see how many. Carrying a small brass oil lamp, the innkeeper led them to the first bungalow. He lit the hanging lamps over the door and then two more small brass lamps inside.

Steve glanced around inside. It was clean and nicely furnished. The tables and chairs were made of plain but highly polished wood, intricately carved in patterns with tight curls. The innkeeper led them to both bedrooms; the heavy bed frames were made of the same kind of wood, and quilted cotton comforters covered them. A small fireplace, which they would not need, warmed the bungalow in winter.

“It is adequate.” Steve tried to sound unenthusiastic, to maintain his bargaining position in the future.

Hunter paid the innkeeper without speaking.

The innkeeper walked backward out of the door, bowing to them repeatedly, and closed it behind him.