Her stomach rumbled. She probably ought to get something to eat. She slipped off the cot bed and stretched before opening the door.

Upon opening the door, she was surprised to see a small bridge leading to the next room. The flat and narrow bridge crossed over a small man-made stream. Tali stepped out onto the bridge. To her left was the street, while to her right was a small garden that was encircled by the rest of the house. The house was made of several small buildings connected via bridges. The garden in the middle provided a nice, central area with a gazebo in the center.

Based on what Tali could see, the entire house was comprised of eight rooms in a three-by-three grid surrounding the gazebo. The result was luxurious and eye-catching. A wrap-around porch surrounded each room so you didn't have to pass through rooms. The bridges were all covered, giving the residents protection from the elements.

Tali had no idea which room was which, so she just went to the room immediately in front of her. She knocked on the door, suddenly feeling self-conscious. When nobody answered, she headed for the gazebo, too unnerved to knock on any more doors.

The gazebo was surrounded by a miniature moat about a foot wide. It broke off in eight directions, one for each bridge along the outside. The little streams not only provided something for the bridges to cross over, but they also watered the garden and added to the aesthetic. Ferns and bright flowers of honeysuckle pink, coral rose, chartreuse, and teal were laid out in careful arrangements throughout the garden. Her fingers itched once again to immortalize the beauty she was seeing on paper.

"Do you like it?" Yamal asked, coming down a bridge opposite her. 

"Very much," Tali said. "It's beautiful. I would love to paint it."

"You're an artist?" Yamal looked pleasantly surprised.

"Yes. It's my passion." She bit her lip and looked away. She couldn't help feeling like it was her fault she was in such a mess.

She shook her head, then remembered why she had left the room in the first place. "Can I get something to eat? I'm famished."

"Right! Sorry." Yamal took her hand in his, leading her to the building he had come from.

Tali felt a bit flustered at his familiarity. His large, calloused hand completely enveloped hers with warmth.

"This is the kitchen," he said, sliding the door open. The small room was simplistic but cozy. The entire room centered around a table sunk into the floor, with pillows on the floor and a pit underneath it for people's legs. Counters lined the walls around the room, with wood-burning stoves built into two of the counters.

A little lady under five feet tall scurried around the kitchen gathering various ingredients and tossing them together. She used a stepping stool to reach the large wok on top of the stove, maneuvering the wok with great skill. It looked like she was making a stir fry using fruits instead of vegetables.

"Tali, this is our cook, Mira," Yamal said. "Mira, this is the guest I was telling you about. She hasn't had breakfast yet."

"I figured that's why you brought her here," Mira said in a light tone. She flipped the wok so the chopped fruits flew into the air and back into the pan. "This will be ready in just a bit. You can sit down while you wait."

Still holding her hand, Yamal led Tali over to the table. He held her hand to support her while she stepped down into the pit and sat on the ledge, only letting go when he was sure she was settled.

"Thank you. That's very nice of you," Tali said as he settled in beside her.

He looked surprised. "Isn't it common courtesy? Especially in your condition."

"Is it?" Tali asked. "I'm not familiar with your customs."

"I see." He leaned one arm on the table so he could look at her better. "Kanali mentioned that you fell into the river. What were you running away from?"

Tali sighed and looked away. "My cousin and I were captured by a merchant who wanted to sell us as slaves."

Yamal was quiet for a minute. "Isn't that illegal?"

Tali turned to look at him. "I wondered why he told the gate guard that I was his niece."

Yamal frowned. "Why didn't you ask the guard for help?"

She shook her head. "I didn't know who I could trust. Plus I had gone without food and was really weak."

He looked disgusted. "That's just wrong." He shook his head. "So you jumped into the river to get away?"

Tali chuckled. "No, something spooked the horse and I got thrown from the cart. I just seized the opportunity to run." She choked up and almost couldn't continue. "And I left Ethan behind."

"Ethan is your cousin?" Yamal asked after a moment.

She nodded. "Well, he's my second cousin, but we've known each other since we were kids."

"Second cousin?" he asked. "Do you refer to your cousins by their order of birth?"

She smiled and shook her head. "No, it just means someone who shares great-grandparents."

"Oh," he said. "Interesting. Here all relatives are cousins."

Mira set a bowl of fruit stir fry down in front of Tali, with what looked like a single chopstick as the only utensil. "Here you go," she said. "Would you like some, Yamal?" She wiped her hands on her tunic.

"Just a little, thanks."

"Thank you," Tali added.

"Not to worry," Mira replied. She went back to dish up Yamal's portion. 

Tali picked up the lone chopstick. "Um, isn't there supposed to be another one?"

"Oh, here." Yamal took it from her. "You use it like this." He skewered several pieces of fruit like a kebab. He handed it back to her. 

"That's simpler than I thought." Tali took the skewer and bit off a piece. She chewed slowly as the juice burst from the steaming fruit, filling her mouth with warm citrus. It reminded her of the taste of grilled pineapple.

Mira set a smaller bowl in front of Yamal. He skewered a few pieces and bit off three at once. They ate in silence, savoring the flavor of the fruit. When he finished, Yamal placed the skewer across the top of the bowl. He wiped the excess juice from his lips and licked his fingers. 

"Can you tell me the name of the merchant who captured you?" he asked. "Maybe we can find him."

Tali frowned. "I don't actually know his name. Everyone called him 'Chief'. I know the names of a few other traders, though."

"And they all knew of his plans to sell you?"

"Yes." Tali nodded. "There were five of them when we were captured, and more than twenty total."

Yamal rubbed at his beard. "Can you describe them to me?"

"Even better," Tali said. "Give me paper and something to draw with and I'll sketch them for you."

He brightened. "That's right, you're an artist. Why didn't I think of that?"