“I’m pretty sure we haven’t been in this part of the city before,” Dain said, looking around with interest. On either side, the streets were lined with an unbroken face of row houses, four floors tall but with the lowest halfway underground as was common in Etria over the past century in the effort to maximize density; now and then the wall was pierced by an archway leading to what must be back gardens, but often that archway was too narrow to allow any large vehicle through, nothing larger than a narrow donkey-cart. In this area it was heavily dominated by red brick, with decorative touches of grey stone, reminding her of the Vixen, and they were in moderately good condition although showing their age. Corners had shops and services, the sorts of things busy hardworking locals would need. Streetcar stops still had stone benches shaded by a tree or two, though, and the streets were tolerably clean.

A city that contracted with several companies to travel around and pick up different sorts of waste from buildings and street bins, all in distinctively coloured-patterned-and-logoed containers, and to keep the streets swept struck Fliss as a lovely idea for keeping everything clean. So many people lived so close together, and many of them worked long hours; reducing the drudgery of disposal could only help. All the better when it meant that the various sorts of waste could be put to further use, since Etria generated more than any place Fliss had yet seen.

Fliss, adjusting the length of her strides without thought to keep up with her companions, inclined her head. “It is a pleasant area. We are not so far from Corvan and Jenna’s house, or from the Old Bridge free clinic, but it seems that cities are often two different places, seen from major routes and seen from behind as locals do. I think I would never have found this without Nikki.”

Dain chuckled. “Etria is as absolutely Nikki’s home environment as the ocean to a dolphin or the edge of a farm village to a fox. Every resource is identified and mapped out and is available at will.”

“That seems a fair description,” Fliss agreed. “I mentioned enjoying a similar game on my travels, and Nikki brought me here the next evening they played. Thirdday evenings are perhaps not ideal for you...”

“We’re only at the Gauntlet every second Thirdday,” Keri said. “We can work around that.”

“Others have less convenient job schedules,” Fliss said. “That is why there is no commitment. It is there for those who are free and wish to play or cheer, and if not this week, perhaps next. I do not expect much free time for any of us until Robin and Gabriel find us a new performer, but it is a good way to be social with new people and to have fun and work off some restless energy, yeah?”

“That’s why we’re here,” Dain said cheerfully.

“Tessa does not feel excluded?”

“We live together and play music together but once in a while a little time away from each other is a good thing. And knowing we were going out, she arranged to get together with someone she met at our last gig.”

“It’s not like we care if they get noisy,” Keri said in amusement. “And Tessa’s a singer, she gets pretty loud when she’s feeling good. She knows better than to care if we overhear, and our landlady seems more amused than upset. But sometimes she brings someone home who’s more self-conscious. And we’d really rather she was on home ground where she’s more in control, just for safety.”

“That seems a fair arrangement,” Fliss agreed. Tessa had admirers, and for good reason. Her voice was remarkable, deeper than most women but nonetheless no one questioned, versatile and controlled, able to captivate an audience equally with an energetic drinking song, a tragic ballad, or an erotic musical flirtation. While Insomnia switched around on instruments, all three able to play several, Tessa was the one who sang.

In the heeled boots she liked to wear, she was barely a hand’s width shorter than Fliss. She had much more impressive curves, attributable more to clever Etrian pharmacy than nature or clothing, and she dressed most often to show that off. She enhanced the natural red in her dark hair with henna, and kept it as long as possible, well down her back, highlighting it with clips and ornaments that drew the eye.

There was plenty of grounds for someone to be attracted to Tessa. And if she chose to take an occasional admirer to bed, Fliss hoped she enjoyed herself and protected herself. The constant ebb and flow of people from all corners of the world introduced threats more subtle than a knife and harder to spot, though fortunately Etria’s latex trade and public health service had found a solution for that.

They came around a corner, which at ground level housed an apothecary and signs indicated that there were offices above for an accountant, a physician, a photographer, a midwife, a sex worker, and a solicitor. Ahead, the green open space of the playing field became visible.

It was simply an open rectangle of flat grassy ground bordered by streets and ringed by trees to shade the backless benches around the edges that served both spectators and passersby. The locals maintained it, kept the grass short and picked up stray trash and debris from the trees, and the city left it alone. Inevitably, knowing about these weekly games, mobile vendors of food and drink were drifting into the area.

There were well over a dozen people there already, something like two thirds of them male. All were in clothes light in weight and light in colour, cool and easy to move in, though the lowering sun made vigorous outdoor activity safer. Keri had taken Fliss’ advice and dressed accordingly, though Fliss thought she’d only ever seen Keri previously in clothes more like Dain’s, dark trousers of the double-woven cotton locally called denim and a variety of jewel-coloured tops that tied or laced or bared skin, especially arms.

On the other hand, the closest Keri had available was faded khaki-coloured denim trousers that had been cropped above her knees and a green-and-brown halter under a cream-coloured shirt open up the front—possibly Tessa’s, considering that it was very loose on her. But it would do.

Fliss had no idea precisely what the relationship between Keri and Dain was, and felt no need to ask. They clearly came from a similar ethnic origin, of moderate height for their respective sexes and both with a sort of compact and athletic build, Keri’s with more curve; both were always tanned, but the tone beneath suggested a temperate homeland to Fliss. Dain’s hair brushed his shoulders, a thick loose mane of brown with strong golden highlights; Keri’s, ash-blonde, was cropped short to fall mostly to one side and dyed with several dark stripes. They were frequently together and Fliss had never seen them argue, only disagree amicably; she was quite certain that some articles of clothing travelled back and forth.

They clearly found joy and strength in that bond, whatever it was, and only that mattered; the details were between them and of no interest.

“Haven’t seen you lately, Fliss,” she was greeted by the oldest person present, a woman with cropped-short white hair, steadying herself with a cane but still in excellent condition.

“Which will continue, I fear,” Fliss said. “If one person’s path leads elsewhere, those who remain must fill in that space until another path leads to joining. But life goes on and we all need to have fun, yeah? These are my friends Keri and Dain. Keri is restless and wishes to learn to play. This is Magali. She is queen of this game and this field.”

“I’m no one’s royalty, m’girl,” the old woman snorted, as several of those nearby laughed and nodded, including a couple who had just joined them and missed the beginning. More would keep wandering in, possibly well after the game started. Good as she was at remembering people, too many circulated in and out, and there was more game than conversation; she could recognize many but knew only a few names, only sporadic information about them outside the playing field.

“No one would ever challenge you as the one who makes the rules,” one of the men said.

“Oh, I know that. I’m just not royalty. Met a few back in the day. Useless bunch.” Magali gaze focused on Keri. “Always room for another player. Did Fliss explain the rules?”

“The ball goes between the markers at the other end,” Keri said. “No using your hands unless you’re the one on guard between the markers for your team. No violence.”

“We won’t hurt you,” one man chuckled. He was a handspan taller than Keri and broader of shoulder—Fliss thought he worked in one of the iron foundries, out in the Steelwater District.

“That is not,” Dain muttered under his breath, “what I’m worried about.” Fliss barely heard it, and no one else could have.

“That’ll do for the rules,” Magali said briskly. “You brought a friend, Fliss.” She picked up a bag from the basket beside her on the bench and tossed to to her; Fliss caught it. “You pick one team and your friend is your first. Deo, we’ve missed you. You pick the other team, and it’s your turn.” She tossed a similar bag to one of the men.

“Another outsider?” sighed a man who had arrived to catch the tail of that. “Do we really need more?”

“Anyone friendly is welcome,” Magali said.

“You’re just jealous because Fliss kicks harder than you do,” the foundry worker said.

“And with better aim,” one of the women, barely out of her teens, teased. “Pick me, Fliss, we’ll show them.”

There were a few individuals who objected to the inclusion of those from outside this district and perhaps its neighbours. Some of the cultures that made up Etria’s mosaic had beliefs about gender and sports, or epicene individuals in any context, and those could at times be hostile. Despite that, Fliss felt comfortable here without watching her back, and was sure Keri was safe.

The bags held coloured armbands, one set made from fabric with wide yellow and narrow dark stripes, the other a dull red check—what had been available, Fliss assumed, and they did well enough. She distributed her yellow ones in turn with some thought, prioritizing those she knew were most friendly to her and most open to introducing new players to the game, but trying for a mixture of skills at defence and offence as well.

Magali said nothing, but Fliss saw small unconscious nods, traces of a smile.

“Well chosen,” Magali said, when they’d finished and she collected the bags. “I’ll distribute anyone else who arrives alternately between you.” She scooped the ball out of the basket, and balanced it on one hand while she made her way to the centre of the field.

“Best to watch us play and swap in once you’ve seen how it goes,” the young woman said to Keri, who nodded.

“That makes sense.”

Keri and Dain settled themselves on the grass, level with the benches; Fliss left her white-and-gold striped bag and her sandals with them before stepping out onto the field barefoot. Most of the players, in fact, were barefoot. Sandals were hopeless and few kinds of footwear offered much traction on the grass. One learned quickly to kick with the side of the foot.

Keri, she noticed, slipped off her near-white overshirt and left it with the rest of their things. That bared the black tattoos on her upper arms, fading out as they travelled down towards her elbows: a scattering of ring-shaped spots that reminded Fliss strongly of the coat of great cats from her homeland.

Ball games turned up in nearly every culture she’d travelled through. Rules varied, but she found it easy to apply what she’d learned from earlier versions to wherever she currently was. She was not the master that Magali had been in her prime, but she could hold her own, tracking the locations and directions of the ball and the other players and which armband they wore.

It was a good way to stop thinking about other things for a while.

Still, she made sure to step out of play before long and let Keri take her spot, wondering how this would go. She knew Keri was strong with fast reflexes, and had the coordination to play piano and guitar and multiple types of drums and almost certainly other instruments as well that were less currently popular, but how would any of that apply to a ball game?

Well, it amused Magali to no end, and a couple of the players, especially two of the younger women who were sometimes included less than they should have been.

It amused some other players rather less, and they were not all on the other team.

Keri was very good at following the motion of the ball, and it didn’t take her long to figure out how to use even small openings to steal it. The problem was, once she had it, she was reluctant to let it out of her control.

Dain, at one point, drew Keri aside for a low-voiced conversation in that language they shared and Fliss had never come across before, and for a while after that Keri got better about passing the ball, but it didn’t last.

Magali finally suggested that they try having Keri guard the goal, which worked better: she pounced on it the instant it came in reach. Occasionally a bit too quickly.

Despite that, the other team made the winning point first—not against Keri—and Magali called the game.

“Impressive for your first time,” she told Keri, laughing. “You certainly kept a few on their toes. The enthusiasm is wonderful to see. Maybe could be a bit better on the teamwork and the patience, though.”

“Teamwork’s not a problem when we’re playing music with our partner,” Dain said, handing Keri and Fliss both their respective bags and footwear. “This was a lot of motion in immediate proximity, a lot to keep track of, and I think it was just too much.”

“You’re still fun to play with,” the young woman who had welcomed Keri originally chortled. “Come back when you can.”

“I might do that,” Keri said.

Fliss rummaged in her bag, and produced a wooden carving, as long as her outstretched hand. The wood was rich and golden and fine-grained, and had been shaped into a woman in the middle of a running kick, in loose-fitting trousers to mid-calf and a top with short sleeves, her hair tied back in a high tail. She presented it to Magali on her palm.

“For you. I can think of no one better to own this one than its inspiration, yeah?”

Magali took it and turned it over in her hands, her fingers stroking the delicate contours of hair and clothing, ball and grass. “This must have taken you... I don’t even know how many hours.”

“I don’t count. I make them because there are shapes in the wood and bringing them out is a way to pass time that I find pleasant and calming. There is more to distract me now than there was at times when I was travelling, but I still enjoy the creation. And the gifting. Please?”

She had another at home, a great maned cat from her homeland; she didn’t consider it one of her best pieces, since it had been an early one, from when she’d focused too much on finishing and not enough on the process itself. Since Jenna had bought Olwen a book of exotic animals from around the world, and almost certainly that would include the cat in question, she was contemplating giving it to Olwen as part of her gift. It probably wouldn’t have any negative consequences, but it would be good to have it in appreciative hands. She planned to ask Lane at the next opportunity, just to be sure.

“Thank you.”

“You are very welcome.”

“It won’t get you special treatment next time you drop by.”

Fliss laughed. “I know. I would be disappointed in you if it did.” She slung her bag in place and bent down to tie her sandals. Bare feet were comfortable, but the streets of Etria sometimes had dangers that a layer of thick leather could prevent.

With all due farewells, Fliss and Keri and Dain left, back in the direction of the brighter streets where there were streetcar stops.

“Well, that was better than it could have been,” Dain said philosophically. “I really wasn’t at all sure that an attempt at team sports would work. It’s not really something I expected to come naturally to you.”

“Too much at once,” Keri said. “And instinct kept wanting me to just claim the ball and keep it from getting away. But not so bad. I bet I could get better at controlling that instinct with some practice. It was fun.”

“That’s a victory, at least. But maybe next time you get restless, it would be better to ask Nikki to take you on one of her runs around the city core. The kind that involve rooftops and the tops of walls and the gods only know what else instead of streets and sidewalks like a normal person.”

“That could also be fun,” Keri conceded. “And it might make less trouble for Fliss.”

“You have made no trouble for me,” Fliss said mildly.

“No one’s going to blame you for my behaviour?”

“I think it is unlikely to be much of an issue. There may be an individual or two who will grumble, but there always are and it will be a change from grumbling that I am from a different part of the city or I am epicene or I am an entertainer rather than working in some more productive calling or, once, that I am too tall and should not be permitted to play because I have an unfair advantage.”

“Seriously?” Dain snorted.

“I fear so. Most are accepting, and follow Magali’s belief that such games should bring people of all kinds together on equal terms in good will. There will be no trouble.”

“That’s a relief,” Keri said. “I’d feel really bad if it did. But Dain might be right and maybe I should ask Nikki about going for a run. It’s probably safer. Mmm... but maybe I’ll give this another try one of these days. Thanks for taking us there.”

“You are very welcome, of course. I do not expect to be back soon, since time is in limited supply, but I will let you know when I do, although you do not need my presence.”

“Yeah, time’s going to get more valuable all the time,” Dain said with a sigh. “Let’s hope Robin and Gabriel find someone soon, and it doesn’t take long for them to integrate, and we can all relax back into free time being occasional instead of downright rare.”

“Agreed,” Fliss said, her thoughts on Robin, who would not complain, Fliss knew, no matter how much of her life was swallowed by her responsibilities. Life needed to go back to its comfortable previous rhythms. But then, nothing ever stayed the same forever. Periods of greater stress could be endured, more easily with the support of friends, and with luck, the calmer waters on the other side would be pleasant ones.