Sofia felt shaken. She was unable to talk or even think. Thankfully, the three women at her table were doing the talking for her.

"Masterful! They really are the best of the best."

"I admit, it was quite good. But I still prefer -."

"Oh, don't even say it. Not now!"

"I'm sorry, but I prefer more modern pieces. Sometimes I wonder what the Talareduh has to do with our lives?"

"It has everything to do with them. It is eternal."

"Not really..."

"I adore that they are doing the Talareduh the old way. I get so nostalgic for the olden days."

"Nostalgic? You weren't even born then. Not for hundreds of years!"

"I know. I just imagine -, I think it must have been a better time."

"You only want what you cannot have."

"Pff."

Wada turned away. She made as if she was observing something that was happening on the stage. There was an awkward silence, made more poignant by the busy talk around them. The presentation had been a big success. There was a relaxed and inspired atmosphere as if everybody was feeling good and optimistic about their lives and themselves.

Before Sofia could make apologies and venture away from the table, the three women turned towards her, all at the same time as if on cue. They looked at her expectantly.

"So," Maringa said.

"What do you think about it?" Wada added.

Even Neyne seemed curious. Apparently, Sofia was supposed to decide who of them was right.

"I -," she started, but couldn't think of the right word. Liked it? How unsatisfying. Loved it? How trite. And there was no critique coming to her mind, nothing smart or biting that she could throw them, and watch what they would make of it. She felt as if she had been sucked into another world. Not just Nihon, no place that could be reached on foot. Another realm, open for all, yet belonging only to her.

"It was magical," she said. "Beautiful."

"Yes," Wada agreed. "It was. The young say it best."

Maringa snorted but didn't contradict her.

"When is the next part coming on?" Sofia asked timidly because she figured that it would be strange if she were to ask what was happening next, even though she was dying to find out. It seemed like she was supposed to know. Everybody in Nihon seemed to know. Again, she thought about Orì. Maybe she would tell her. When she found her.

"It's tomorrow," Neyne said. "Are you going?"

Sofia shrugged. She wanted to go but, of course, that wasn't why she had come to Nihon. She remembered her plan to find out something about her new surroundings.

"I have to get back to school," she said, her heart beating hard at the lie. It was dangerous. One wrong word would be enough to betray her, and she had no idea what would happen then.

Neyne made big eyes, and the others seemed impressed as well. Sofia thought, oh no, what did I say?

"You're going to the School," Maringa said, whistling appreciatively.

"Well, that certainly explains things," Wada said.

Sofia didn't know what this was supposed to explain. She feigned an annoyed expression, the way Orì did when she talked about school - as if it was something that was beneath her, and she couldn't be bothered about it.

"I think, I took a wrong turn somewhere," she said. "It's the first time I am travelling alone."

"Your parents let you do that?" Wada said. "During these times?"

"My parents are dead," Sofia said. It seemed the easiest explanation. And possibly the truth. "And my aunt and uncle think I am a burden."

She thought that she should look sad as she said this, but the three women appeared quite unmoved by her sorry fate, so she didn't.

"Ah, well," Neyne said as if she had told them what her favorite color was. "You're a bit off-path, I think. But if you continue further into the country, you might be able to catch a carriage."

"I've always wondered about the School," Maringa said.

"It is really boring," Sofia said. "I hate it."

She felt her face turn hot and red at the lie. Even now, she was still seething with envy at the mere thought of the school.

"Children!" Wada expressed with disdain. "Always so ungrateful."

Sofia reddened even more, but before she could protest, Wada's head shot around, and Maringa and Neyne did the same.

The man with the horn, the orator of the theater, had approached their table. He was still wearing his long cape, only it wasn't red anymore, but shimmered in a startling green-blue color, bouncing in the air as if he had freshly donned it.

"It was wonderful!" Wada cooed. "You were wonderful!"

The other two chimed in with their praises, any criticism from before evaporating in the presence of the artist. The orator bowed his head in studied gratitude.

"It is all Mica," he said. "I just show up."

He gestured towards the woman with the headdress who was being showered with compliments near the stage. The stage was already half dismantled, only there was nobody doing the dismantling. It just seemed to collapse onto itself, not violently or suddenly, but slowly, part by part. Sofia craned her neck to see if anybody was hidden behind it, but she couldn't see anybody.

Maringa boomed with laughter at the orator's modest response.

"Humility is not a good color on you."

He grinned at her, not contradicting her. It appeared to Sofia that they knew each other, but there was a distance between them as if they were not quite officially acknowledging their acquaintance.

"We all do what we are best at, don't we?" he said and winked at them.

At this, the women protested, half in play, half in earnest.

"And yet," he said, turning towards Sofia. "I see you have already made a new friend."

"We only took her in because the room was so crowded," Neyne said defensively.

"A child, travelling alone." The orator's voice took on a tone that both scolding and mocking.

"She's on her way to the School," Maringa said. Meaningful glances were exchanged, and the orator looked Sofia over. It must have been for the fourth or fifth time that day that he did so. Sofia looked away uncomfortable.

"So, did you like the performance?" he asked her, adding a false kindness to his voice as if he was merely being polite.

Sofia nodded wordlessly, unable to squeeze out words.

"She enjoyed it very much," Neyne said in her stead.

"Well, thank you," the orator said, again, the complete professional. Then he grinned at Sofia. "Don't forget to check your pockets."

He turned away to another round of protests from the women.

"What a cheeky fellow," Wada said when he was out of earshot.

"As if we've ever harmed a soul," Maringa added.

"We don't do permanent damage, at least," Neyne said. "Unlike others."

The three women sighed.

Sofia didn't understand anything that was going on anymore. Suddenly, she felt very warm. The room was cramped and there was no fresh air. She longed to get out, to breathe, but she didn't know what to expect outside. It had been dark for a few hours. The play had taken a long time, even though it had felt like it had been over in a wink. Sofia had a feeling that, if she went out into the dark, she would never find her way back.

Also, she was afraid of the dragon.

"But then, Kaido was right," Neyne said thoughtfully. "It is time to get to work."

The other two nodded heavily. They stretched their arms and massaged their fingers as if they were athletes, readying themselves for a tournament.

"Don't you go anywhere," Wada said to Sofia. "We'll be back soon, and it would be a pity to lose this lovely table. The night is still young."

Before Sofia could object, they had gotten up with more fluid movements than she had expected. They spread out into the room like water. Before Sofia knew what was happening, they had vanished into the crowd, and Sofia couldn't make out any one of them anymore, no matter how much she tried.

It was as if they had never been there.

Only now did Sofia realize how much to the edge of the room she was sitting. The wall was directly behind her. From this corner, every nook and cranny of the inn was visible. And still, she didn't notice when the orator sat down next to her again.

"I really meant it," he said with a sly laugh. "You should check your pockets."

Sofia looked at him suspiciously. The horn on his forehead was merely a bump, now. As he saw her examining it, it suddenly grew back into its previous shape.

"I'm tired," he said as if that was enough of an explanation. "The Shadow Theater really takes it out of me."

"Why should I check my pockets?" Sofia asked.

He tilted his head as if it was an invitation to just do it.

Sofia stuck her hands into her pockets. At first, she was too confused to know what she should be looking for. Anyway, her pockets were empty. Then it hit her.

The stone was missing.

She turned around, feeling helpless. Wada, Maringa and Neyne were nowhere to be seen, and the obsidian was the only object of any worth in her possession. Even though she had not known this before this afternoon, she now felt as if she had lost everything.

The orator chuckled. "Professional pickpockets. The first friends any stranger makes. Let it be a lesson to you." He enjoyed Sofia's panicked expression for a little while longer, then he held up his hand and opened it as if performing a magic trick. In his palm, he was holding the obsidian.

Sofia snapped it back before he could pull his hand away again.

"You took it!" she said.

She didn't want to believe that the three nice women who had taken her in would steal from her, but inside, she knew that he was right.

"From them, yes," he said. "I am not so bad at picking pockets myself. A handy skill sometimes, but I don't recommend it as a career choice."

"You know them," Sofia said accusingly.

"Theater people know all kinds of scoundrels. There's a mutual admiration between us, I'd say."

"Why would you admire a thief?"

"Because a really skilled thief will make you believe that they are anything but a thief. As a storyteller, I cannot help but feel a certain appreciation. With me, everybody knows that I am not telling the truth, even if I can sometimes make them forget it. For a little while, at least."

"And why does the thief admire you?"

"Opportunity. We draw the herds for them to strike. Unwillingly, of course." He smiled. "You ask good questions. But you are not very cautious."

Sofia didn't reply. She knew he was right. Somehow, she felt like everything he said was true, and it was very unsettling. She scanned the room for the fastest way to get away, but she would draw too much attention.

"My name is Kaido," he continued. "Some friends and flatterers say it is short for kaleidoscope because I take in everything I see and witness, and pour it into my performances. But my parents ensure me it is merely an old family name that is reused every second generation, like an old garment or piece of furniture that gets passed down."

He stretched out his legs as if he was settling comfortably into their conversation. The horn on his forehead vanished, and he rubbed the skin with a little sound of pain.

"So, what is your name?" he asked, wincing as he made the horn reappear.

Sofia stared at him, as is she had forgotten it. Then she remembered.

"Sofia."

Kaido grinned, baring a set of sharp, pointy teeth.

"An unusual name for an unusual girl."

He leaned forward, and for a moment, the noises around them moved farther away. The people blurred into a faceless mass.

"So, Sofia, tell me," he said. "How did you manage to sneak into Nihon without anybody noticing?"