In which the bakery goes forward.
I had forgotten that we already knew of a character called “Our Lady of Benevolence” until I was re-reading the earlier bakery stories in preparation for this new one. (Well, actually, the authors’ foreword gave it away, but if not for that it would have been re-reading “Fortune’s Favors” that did it.)
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In which Mar Tyn goes for a walk.
Ah, so that’s what happened to Mar Tyn’s mentor.
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In which Mar Tyn wishes to help his friends.
I like Serana’s “we will treat it as it deserves”. Such a polite and gracious way to say they intend to have nothing to do with it.
Serana and Don Eyr have experienced the dangers of a bad “protector”, and the limitations of even a good one, and it’s understandable that they prefer to rely on their own resources.
That little discourse on the nature of Luck is interesting. I wonder if Seignur Veeoni has ever had an opportunity to speak to the Lucks about their work.
In which Mar Tyn receives a warning.
I wonder if it’s actually possible for a Luck’s gift to break like that, or if it’s just a superstition. I can see how people who rely for success on a Luck might get to worrying about the possibility of it going wrong.
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In which Mar Tyn asks an unaccustomed question.
It seems a bit late in proceedings to be introducing a whole new category of probability-workers, but I suppose that if there are only a few of them and they keep to themselves, and their gifts only affect their immediate vicinity — and the Healers and dramliz choose to have nothing to do with them — one can understand why we haven’t heard of them or seen them at work before now.
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In which Mar Tyn rests.
Since I remember Don Eyr and Fireyn, I am less surprised than Mar Tyn about finding a safe place in the midst of Low Port. It will be interesting to see what he makes of it, and vice versa.
Fireyn was cagey about her past in “Degrees of Separation”, so this is the first time we’ve heard of ‘the Betrayed’.
In which the luck moves roughly around Mar Tyn eys’Ornstahl.
We have seen one of the gambling Hells of Solcintra Low Port, and a luck-for-hire, before, in “The Beggar King”.
The detail about the Luck being provided with “as much cold tea as you can stomach” is specific enough that it has to mean something. I presume that the idea is camoflage; unless closely inspected, a glass of cold tea would look much like the glasses everyone else is carrying, while being less likely to impair the drinker’s wits at a time when he needs them to stay sharp.
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