![]() ![]() ![]() It was the center of the jurda trade, surrounded by fields of the little orange flowers that people chewed by the bushel. Mal and I had come to Cofton to find work that would finance our trip west. Everything tasted like ashes to me lately. The shopkeeper had claimed they were a Zemeni delicacy, but I had my doubts. The calf and collard pies were stuffed into my satchel and giving off a very peculiar smell. Mal and I met every day after work to walk back to the boardinghouse together, but today I'd gotten completely turned around when I'd detoured to buy our dinner. I checked the little map I'd drawn for myself and retraced my steps. Soon we would go farther, deep into the wilds of the Zemeni frontier. ![]() The town lay inland, west of the Novyi Zem coast, miles from the harbor where we'd landed. T WO WEEKS WE'D been in Cofton, and I was still getting lost. ![]()
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