Jagdish and the crew prepared a feast and several bottles of whisky and rum for Gwyneth’s farewell. Neither she nor Bunty indulged in the free liquor though. As a result, when the time came to disembark, they were the only ones aboard not hungover. Bunty preferred keeping his distance from strangers. However, when Jagdish came in for a hug, he couldn’t push the jolly Sikh man away.

A pang of guilt tugged at Bunty’s heart as he felt the two stolen Cores press against his rubs. He hoped his vest provided sufficient padding to keep Jagdish from feeling them. Bunty told himself that he didn’t have any other option. He hadn’t stolen the two Cores for himself. Gwyneth needed to get as far as possible from the DeLawneys.

Meanwhile, Bunty needed to get word to Baba. Besides, Jagdish had earned almost ten times as much thanks to Gwyneth’s presence on board. He owed the vessel’s captain his life, but Jagdish had taken advantage of their desperation.

No matter what justification Bunty used, the force squeezing his chest got stronger as he bid the vessel and its crew goodbye. He couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if he asked Jagdish for the Cores instead of stealing them. Considering how generous he had been, Bunty believed he would’ve walked away with more than two of the marshy spheres. They couldn’t afford to take risks, though. Once they were off the vessel, Jagdish barked at his crew to unload the cargo. Ashish followed the pair for a while, carrying the gathered hides and bones on his augmented shoulder, but they lost each other in the crowd.

Whenever the vessel stopped at a port, Bunty and Gwyneth had sat at the bough and watched the locals. As they ventured further from the floor’s main hub, fewer people wore the Montagu crest or colours. Once Climbers had built homes and settled in the villages, they appeared to live ordinary lives as if Gaia’s Ark was no different from the outside world. The number of children running around surprised Bunty the most. Almost every child he spotted had spirit tattoos on their bare arms. He didn’t quite understand how it worked for humans born within the tower and hadn’t encountered any literature that explained how it worked for them.

“Where to first?” Gwyneth asked. They had refrained from making plans on the vessel to avoid eavesdroppers. Bunty had caught one of the younger crewmen peeping at them when they were alone. He wasn’t sure whether Jagdish had sent him down to spy on them, or the teenager was hoping to catch the pair in an amorous act. “I say we invest in a pair of cloaks first.”

Bunty nodded, watching the locals. They wore light, sleeveless clothing to deal with the heat and humidity. However, most of them wore dull-coloured cloaks as well. The fabric appeared to be the same as whatever their shirts and trousers were made of. Bunty guessed it was so they could continue working despite the weather. The literature said it often rained on the sixth floor and storms weren’t a rarity either. He guessed the locals didn’t let the weather slow them down.

The settlement turned out to be much bigger than it appeared from the water. It didn’t just extend along the water’s edge but into the mountain behind it as well. The market stretched along one of the sheltered streets. Orange lamps hung in a criss-cross pattern along the road, and the locals conducted their business in the warming light. A string instrument’s flowed from the one eatery they passed but was soon drowned out by vendors calling out to people passing by.

Even though Gwyneth claimed to hate fish, the local stalls’ aroma had her drooling as much as Bunty. They had limited funds, though, and couldn’t afford to waste any of it. It wasn’t just a matter of buying garments, but they didn’t know what to expect when dealing with the gate’s guards. Things could potentially become difficult on the other side of the doorway too. So, the pair ventured deeper into the markets keeping their eyes peeled for modestly priced textile merchants. One found the couple before they ventured far.

“How are you so far the hub without grisskin clothes?” The man asked, stepping in Bunty’s way. It wasn’t out of the norm for vendors to find customers on the street in New Calcutta. Bunty expected to venture further into the marketplace before getting body-blocked, though. Worst of all, the vendor was much too loud for the pair’s liking. The volume wasn’t much higher than the other vendors’, and fortunately, didn’t draw many sets of eyes. “Your shirts and vests are horrid for the climate. It’s going to trap moisture in and let the rain out.” The vendor invited himself to rub Bunty’s collar between his fingers. “It’s good fabric, don’t get me wrong, but not what you want to be wearing in this interval at all. Come to my store. My prices are the best. I promise.”

Bunty stepped out of the man’s unwelcome touch. His hands darted to the pocket that housed his money. It probably was the norm here, but in New Calcutta when a stranger got so handsy, it meant his crew were practising sleight of hand tricks. Alexander had gotten himself pickpocketed in such a fashion several years ago. The vendor backed off, holding his hands up in the air.

“I’m sorry, friend,” he said. “I forget you Climbers aren’t used to our friendly ways. Stealing is meaningless here, you see. Everything is in abundance, and there is nowhere for thieves to go but into the wild. It’s not safe out there with a well-trained party, so you’re safe.”

“We’re looking for a pair of decent cloaks,” Gwyneth said. “We’re done with the sixth floor and moving onto the next.”

“Strange. Ordinary Climbers don’t venture this far.” The vendor narrowed his eyes looking them up and down.

“We were hoping to bag a decent Core for my spirit,” Bunty quickly added. “We ended up sailing further than we would’ve liked. I didn’t find anything worthwhile, though.”

The man sighed. “That’s expected. The Montagu patrols don’t leave the beasts alone long enough to hunt and nurture their Cores.” He waved towards his stall, urging the pair to follow. “You’ll want something to last you through floors seven and eight, then. The ninth is too hot to wear much clothing at all, and my wares won’t do you much good in the tenth’s cold.”

Bunty wasn’t sure what to think of the man’s directness. Gwyneth’s expression suggested that she didn’t either. It was near impossible to tell whether the garment merchant was genuine, or a ploy to get more sales. The stall in question extended into a building carved from stone. It extended from the floor, all way to the humanmade cave’s flat ceiling. Bunty only recognised one of the materials on display: sandile hide. The craftsman had fashioned it into ridged armour pieces, ranging from breastplates to greaves. None of that interested Bunty. He made a beeline towards the mannequin adorned in local garments and cloaks.

“Finest stitching around,” the merchant declared. “My wife’s got a needle spirit, you see. We were lucky enough to upgrade it with a century-old stone spider’s Core. She does all her needlework with the thread, and it doesn’t break easily. We’ve got a variety of fabrics in a large selection of dies. All of them are treated to keep the rain and sea out but won’t trap the sweat in either. A cool Climber is a happy Climber. I like to say. If none of the designs here appeals to you, we can look into custom designs, of course. They cost extra—“

“We’re not fussed about colour or design,” Bunty said, cutting the man off. He walked past the brightly coloured garments on display towards the folded darker ones in the black. “Our funds are limited, and we’d prefer something that doesn’t stand out.”

Gwyneth nodded. “Our spirits let us hunt at night when there isn’t a lot of competition around,” she added. “So, we’d prefer garments that help us blend in better.”

“How about black?” The man inquired, reaching for a roll of jet-black cloth.

“No.” Bunty’s answer made his shoulder droop. “As we said, we’re on a budget. Black dye is much too expensive for something that’ll only last us until the ninth floor.”

“Most Climbers spend years moving between the sixth and eight trying to find the perfect Core,” the vendor said. “The terrain and the beasts on the ninth and tenth don’t make them the easiest grounds to traverse. At the end of the day, you get what you pay for.”

“Are you trying to rip off my friends, Hamza?” Bunty and Gwyneth’s backs stiffened on hearing the new voice. It was Ashish, Jagdish’s former first mate. They had last seen the man a little over an hour ago, and he had already unloaded his wares and changed into a new set of clothing. “They’re good people and dear to Jagdish. Are you sure you want to play your usual games?”

The man sighed, looking between Ashish and Bunty. “Why did you have to come back? We’ve concluded business, haven’t we?”

“I came back to see about a commission,” Ashish said. “If you’re going to treat my friends unfairly, I’ll take my business elsewhere.”

After some thought, Bunty decided to stay out of it. Hamza and Ashish appeared to know one another. They exchanged banter for a couple of minutes, throwing playful insults at one another. Their conversation helped Bunty get a good sense of in-tower rates for crafted goods. They were much cheaper than what was available in Climber’s Market. Bunty would’ve happily paid the outside rates. It turned out that was precisely what Hamza was pushing for.

In the end, Hamza agreed to sell a pair of dark green cloaks for one pound each. It was a lot less than what they would’ve paid outside. He had bought the materials directly from Climbers without the Montagus getting the opportunity to tax them. Hamza’s wife worked as the seamstress and tanner. No New Calcuttan merchant wasn’t taking a cut either. As a result, he still walked away from the sale with a tidy profit. Bunty and Gwyneth changed into their new cloaks before leaving the store.