The moon is full that night, its light illuminating the tree branches and making pale, dancing ghosts of the leaves. Orien ignores it, sitting huddled in her bed-nest, remembering. "If you can provide more rare items," her uncle had said, "I am confident of an excellent price." But Tiero had said he'd never seen any treasure. And Knawan Ysenna thought the rumours were probably made up or exaggerated. Orien broods over the puzzle and listens to her uncle and Sabi going about their night-time routines. When the house is completely silent, Orien scrambles from the nest and dons her trousers and long-sleeved undershirt, then pulls on a light wrap-blouse over the top. She feels somewhat underclothed without anything over her trousers, but nobody should be seeing her anyway. It should be fine. She pulls on one of her lighter wraps to cover her head, and opens the window to let herself out into the moonlit night.