"Go on," she invites, in unfamiliarly-accented English with a small amused smile.

"Let's say someone had plans for when they got here. An in with an enclave, some favors, enough training not to get killed. But - not really enough to guarantee anything. And let's say... there was an upset. He's quick enough to change his plans, but not quite sure yet if it's a stumbling block or an opportunity. He's on his own, but he's not hitched to an ill-omened star. You know?"

"And let's say he had enough time to get some resources pulled together, but without the people he was supposed to know, he doesn't know how best to leverage them."

"This is all to say... how would you use three bottles of vodka and a box of assorted powdered drink mixes?"

"Very hypothetical indeed, this question of yours. In this hypothetical scenario, I suppose I would have several options. Do I want to become known as the person with the supply of alcohol, and carefully ration it out in small individual sales over the course of the year? Do I want to sell it all at once to someone much richer than I for whatever they can afford to immediately spare? Do I want to hide it away and think of a use for it later when I understand the situation better? Some of these plans may be easier than others, of course."

"I think I understand the situation well enough - at least well enough to know I don't want my main resource stowed. That said... hi, I'm David, David Kassel. You seem to know your ass from a hole in the ground, and you look like you kill things, and this has been a transparent attempt to inform you that I have a trade good and enough of a brain to make a new plan when the old one falls through."

"Ghyslaine Royer," she says, with a gesture not unlike a curtsey. "A pleasure to meet you. I don't presently want to buy any alcohol, although who knows, I may change my mind as the weeks wear on. But perhaps we could be friends anyway, since you have advertised yourself so charmingly."

"I'm happy to hear it, the direct approach works sometimes after all. And the nice thing about having a trade good is that eventually I may have different trade goods. For which I traded the first. I'd ask where you're from, by the way, with your very charming accent, but I imagine if you wanted me to have that information I'd know it - so I'll just register some curiosity for the record."

"It's a secret! I'm very mysterious."

"Aren't you just. Do you have an equally mysterious affinity? Mine's shields - but they have to hurt something. Little more mana-intensive, but worth it."

"Oh, don't you go giving these things away, now I'm obliged to give in return. If you must know, I'm a hunter." She taps her knife, hanging at her side in its engraved leather sheath. "I expect I'll be making weapons, but my true strength lies in using them."

"But if I hadn't obliged you, we'd never know how serendipitous our affinities were. The free exchange of information mediates gains from trade yet again."

"Touché," she says, laughing and holding a mock-wounded hand to her heart.

"How do people get to know each other when neither can share meaningful information about themselves without giving offense," David wonders. "We could trade trivialities... or, now I think of it, we could trade information that's not about ourselves? Perhaps that'd be less fraught."

"Well, let's see, which of us is best served to dispense advice on which subjects? I'll bet I've killed more mals than you have, that can be my area of expertise."

"I suspect you're right, if you think so. And... I suspect I know more than you about the political scene. Just a touch."

"Impres me with your acumen, then."

He gestures surreptitiously to New York. - minus Sanderson? That's interesting. "That's New York. They're big. They're all brawn, but brawn will get you far. Don't fuck with them. Notably they have Orion Lake, who is by all accounts a mal hunter like you. Very, very good at it, too. He's got a reputation."

He gestures to London. "London. Old. Some of them think they're nice, but mostly they're just divorced from the consequences of their actions."

Paris. "Paris hates everyone."

Beijing. "By all accounts Beijing is a rising star. People have been saying that for seventy years, but it hasn't quite stopped being true yet."

"I will have to ask Orion Lake if he'd like to go hunting with me sometime. Or would that be too forward of me? It's so hard to judge these things. Anyway, unless you would like advice on how to kill things with a knife, I suppose I ought to trade you a quick spell or two—what are your languages? I can offer instruction most readily in French, but if you don't have French there are others. English, even, if I must stoop so low."

"I have French. English spells always are a bit of a stoop."

"In that case, how would you like a quick little revealer of hidden things? I'll give you the phrases in the opposite order so I don't accidentally cast it; it's useless in a crowd like this. Much better for less noisy situations."

"Sounds almost better than fair. But I've got more enclaves to tell you about, so I suppose it'll work out."

"Yes, that's what I was thinking. So it's—" and she recites a charming little rhyming couplet, in a slightly peculiar rhythm, "only backwards, of course. For best results you want to be standing still and paying attention already. And, as I said, the more there is going on around you the less helpful it'll be; in a room like this, I'm sure it would tell me there are lots of lovely secrets and surprises in sight, but be too overwhelmed to direct me regarding their natures or locations. Now do tell me more about your enclave politics."

He gets into it. Dubai has an appalling survival rate. Manchester used to be one of the greats and they still think they are but who are they kidding. Chicago...

"Well, Chicago's not that relevant anymore. I suppose I can give you a rundown of the upperclassmen but they're not likely to bother anyone while they're scrabbling to get through graduation."

"Yes, I caught wind that something unfortunate had happened, but no one seemed to have any details."

"No one did. The enclave... isn't there anymore. I tried the doors and they went where they were supposed to instead. And the freshmen never showed up, so."

"I see. That is unfortunate. My condolences, if appropriate."

He shrugs. "Didn't lose much. Certainly not as much as some."

"No friends in the vanished sanctuary?"

"What's a friend, really?"

"Someone you trade spells and hunt mals with?"

"No, then. Lost a lot of people who thought I'd carry their things for them and take their maintenance shifts. But no friends."

"Well. All the more opportunity to make some real ones here, then."