Three elders, all of them men, come in and sit next to Hattusilis, Marwan's brother-in-law and, I presume, the village chief. On his hands glisten twenty silver rings, two on each finger, including two on each thumb. The old woman herds Aturdokht and Balqis behind the carpet which separates the front room from the rest of the house. She tries to lure Pareesa, but my fairy general sits, defiantly, next to me and Utbah.
Hattusilis' wife bustles out to offer us bread and water. She gapes at me, owl-eyed, as I pull off the blanket covering my wings, but she has enough courtesy, or maybe it's just fear, to not pat my feathers as though I'm a dog. Her husband growls what I can only imagine are unkind words to feed me when he, himself, sits safely on the opposite side of the fire.
The woman's h
