My earlobes itched.

  It was worth it, since every step made my new rainbow chainmail earrings swing and jingle, and now and then the neckce chimed in. I didn’t need my felid sensitivity to find the weight and sound oddly satisfying.

  I absolutely loved the red tunic Aryennos had found for centaur-me; it flowed and draped beautifully without restricting motion in the least.

  We’d decided against the custom harness. It just didn’t seem worth it, when I was hoping to be home soon. I admitted it only with some regret, though, since I’d already tried the white harness and I was impressed. It fit so comfortably I could almost forget it was there, a strap across my horse chest and one behind my front legs, snug but not binding, and a few optional but pretty straps that draped across my hind end without any practical function, but that quilted pad covered enough to make it a good pce for a human to sit—we’d tested it. I’d transferred only a few things to the matching saddlebags, just my medical kit boxes in one side and, just in case we were wrong about what had happened, the mini-tents and some of the other things we’d bought yesterday in the other, leaving everything else in my yellow and blue backpack at the inn. Serru had given me enough coin left from selling stuff yesterday that I’d be able to buy a snack or a drink if I wanted to, so I hadn’t even brought my water gourd or anything to eat.

  Right now, Aryennos was in the library, happily surrounded by books and fellow bookworms, digging up whatever he could about newcomers. I hoped he’d come up with something useful, both for my own purposes and because it would make him feel like he’d contributed something that neither Serru nor I could.

  Serru had been convinced to invite Terenei out for lunch, at least. Apparently the shop was owned by his alchemist grandfather, and Terenei often covered to allow him to work in peace in the back, but time off was easily arranged.

  Which left me at loose ends.

  I could have stayed at our inn, but that sounded boring even in my retively-calm centaur form. I could switch to felid and make some potions out of whatever remained in my bag, but I could do that any time, and I didn’t want to risk being in that form at all within the city without a friend at hand, just in case.

  So, in my gorgeous red tunic and my chainmail jewellery and white harness, I ventured out to wander around Coppersands by myself and people-watch.

  For a pce with something like twenty-five thousand people, many of them presumably at work or school, it was certainly a highly-active pce. Not crowded, just busy.

  I wasn’t the only centaur, which was a relief, although it did seem to be an extreme minority. There were plenty of cervids around, though, and I thought I saw an individual or two that didn’t quite look like a cervid but was too small to be a centaur. Maybe there was a third simir species around, not horse or deer but something else.

  Felids were also a significant presence, although a smaller one than I’d seen in the vilges in the Forest. That might have a lot to do with whether individuals could tolerate the environment rather than how many were in the region.

  A lot of the popution reminded me of the magenta-skinned pilot at the ferry. I couldn’t even begin to guess at a gender for any of them, with tall androgynous builds leaning towards streamlined. Skin and hair both came in an incredible range of hues in every shade from very dark to very pale, though trending towards darker and stronger colours. Hair was often worn very long but style varied widely, with a tendency towards multiple decorated braids. Designs that looked like tattoos were common, and quite visible since virtually all wore only a wrapped sarong-like garment and assorted accessories, topless and barefoot.

  Possibly those were the aquians that Serru and Aryennos had mentioned; I made a mental note to ask ter. If the name meant they liked water, that seemed pusible for what I was seeing.

  There were a lot of the local version of humans: ears varied between rounded or somewhat pointed, skin more or less in the colour spectrum I was used to and mingled indiscriminately with zero regard for how dark or light, hair ignoring all rules and as diverse as build and height and everything else.

  Occasionally I glimpsed someone completely different. One had scales in a muted green-and-yellow pattern with spshes of startling red; I was sure I’d seen others like that on the Grassnds, but I’d been struggling so much to acclimatize that I hadn’t really thought about it. One had green skin and leafy green hair, and was wearing rough brown fabric, carrying a staff that had blooming flowers at the top. A pair of huge humanoids were something like the height of a centaur or even more, dressed all in faux leather and a lot of shiny metal in what I found myself thinking of as natural tones. No one else seemed to think anything of the presence of any of them, and for all I knew, any or all might be permanent long-time residents of Coppersands or travelling through or anything between.

  All in all, it made a gorgeously bright and impossibly diverse rainbow on every street, all intermingled with cats and dogs; there was less poultry roaming around free on the streets, though I did see some in pens attached to houses, but goats and small donkeys and even rge Newfoundnd-like dogs in many colours drew small carts, and rger donkeys and horses drew the occasional bigger heavier wagons.

  Observation also suggested strongly that gender rules were not what I was used to. Styles varied greatly. As with the skirts in the felid clothing shop, I couldn’t really justify calling items on people with more strongly masculine builds ‘kilts’ when they were far too varied for that term and when I’d without hesitation just say ‘dress’ or ‘skirt’ if it turned up on any other build, and I just wasn’t that hypocritical. Colours were all over the spectrum and didn’t appear to be linked at all to gender or age. Frequently they were strong and vivid, often solids or gradients, but decorative touches around edges were common, and I saw some geometric patterns and occasional rge blocky prints.

  I saw cosmetics in use, anything from so subtle I wasn’t quite sure up through 1980s music video creativity, jewellery and scarves in countless styles, and barely-imaginable accessories of other kinds.

  What I didn’t see was anything I could link to any clear rules about who wore what. If there was anything of the sort, it was something not visible, and I doubted that anything like religion or wealth was a factor. Don’t get me wrong, I could probably have plotted it all on a graph and identified some general tendencies, but that was all they’d be. Just leanings. Statistical probabilities. The central part of a bell curve with gradual slopes, with plenty of room on either side.

  Serru had told me that her current favourite outfit had been determined first by the practicalities of life on the road, and any other aspects were chosen because they pleased her. As near as I could tell, that was more or less the standard approach.

  Public dispys of affection were, clearly, quite socially acceptable. I saw people in every possible combination of genders and species sharing hugs, trading kisses, holding hands, generally being in close contact with each other. A human toddler hugged the waist of the cervid who was carrying it, while an adult human woman walked beside them, having a conversation with the cervid; one of those androgynous colourful folks snuggled close on a bench next to a young human man so they could share what looked to me a lot like an ice cream cone. A trio and a pair, each group a mix of human and felid, met each other with gd cries and a lot of physical contact.

  The people here were friendly and not shy at all about showing it.

  All of this was consistent with what I’d seen elsewhere, but I hadn’t had much opportunity for unhurried and undistracted observation, just glimpses in vilges while intent on one goal or another.

  It was very, very easy to fantasize about staying here, living here, being free to just be. No prejudice or bigotry. No boxing up parts of myself because they conflicted with the job that mattered more to me than anything. Just a wildly diverse popution who would almost certainly appreciate the services of a paramedic. Or a healer. Or an alchemist. Or whatever happened to me at the next Quincunx site.

  If it weren’t for the people at home that I loved...

  But there were people at home that I loved. I had to do my best to get back to them.

  The sound of gss breaking was unmistakable, and I pivoted to look in that direction.

  I barely even registered that, on a tavern patio, someone had bumped into a server and the tter had dropped a tray that had obviously been heavily-loaded.

  The noise spooked a dog nearby, which bolted blindly, underneath the feet of a donkey pulling a small cart carrying baskets of several kinds of fruit.

  Already unsettled by the crash, the donkey bolted.

  An adolescent felid with patches of orange tabby stripes and patches of soft grey and a lot of white scrambled to get out of the donkey’s path, but three of the baskets on the cart, destabilized by the sudden motion, fell off, and one nded squarely on the young felid.

  My mind ran through an assessment as rapidly as my body ran towards the accident. Other hands helped clear the baskets and fruit out of the way; I dropped awkwardly to one front knee, the other foreleg spayed out to the side and braced, so I could ftten a hand on the young felid’s chest to hold her down until I could evaluate. It was not a graceful position, and getting up would take a bit of an effort. I didn’t care.

  “I’m a paramedic,” I said. “Give me a minute.”

  The people around us actually backed off, allowing me to focus on the most important thing. This wasn’t the moment to be astonished by that, just grateful.

  “Hi,” I said to the young cat. “You’re going to be all right. Just y still and let me see how badly you’re hurt, okay?”

  She made a soft mewling sound, and raised her hands to cover her ears, eyes closed tightly. The tension in her body made it quiver under my hand.

  She was smaller than my felid form, but maybe it would work?

  I groped hastily in my bag and yanked out the weighted bnket, since it came into reach first, and draped it over her. She burrowed under it, pulling it over her head.

  With her calmer, the trembling tightness at least not getting any worse and her breathing starting to slow even if her heartrate wasn’t, I pulled up my interface and looked for my new Diagnosis spell.

  It literally gave me a readout, hovering in front of me: bruises, mostly, with a few shallow scrapes her fluffy fur hadn’t entirely prevented, a bump on her head that I figured was from the road, and a twist in one hip. No spinal damage. Heart was still fast but nothing in her vitals that worried me—everything showed green and solidly within the safe range.

  I grabbed the first bystander who came into reach and handed them one of the mini-tents. “Set that up. Nearby, somewhere safe.” I figured odds were good that anyone in this world would know how to do that.

  Meanwhile, I scooped her up into my arms, still wrapped in the bnket, and heaved myself back up to all four feet. Carefully, I lowered her onto the nearest grassy yard, out of the street. She had curled herself into a tight ball, entirely hidden under the bnket.

  Well, that was fair enough. Even if she’d been able to process her environment under normal conditions, the shock could certainly have tipped the scales.

  Fortunately, I didn’t need to make her come out or try to persuade her to drink anything. I just gestured my interface back into sight, doubled the mana on Quickheal just to make sure I got everything, and fttened a hand against her shoulder through the soft drapy bnket.

  “The tent’s ready,” someone said quietly from behind me. Well, as close to behind as anyone was going to get with a centaur.

  “Thank you.”

  “And someone’s gone to get her father.”

  “Even better.” I let my hands fall, and gnced around for the location of the tent. Bright diagonal stripes of pink and yellow that verged on neon, it was on the next front yard down. It seemed unlikely that the owner of the shop would object. I scooped up the calico felid again and moved her to the tent, hoping that the motion wasn’t just escating the problem.

  When I drew back the bnket enough for her to see the tent waiting for her, she scrambled free and dove inside it.

  She made no move to close it, which was interesting. She just curled up into a ball again on her side, with her back to the entrance. I offered the weighted ragdoll cat the felid shopkeeper had suggested. It was half her size, but she pulled it into the middle of her furry balled-up self. I tucked the bnket over her again.

  This didn’t look the same as the meltdown I’d had, more like one of Grace’s cats getting spooked and looking for a sheltered safe pce. Under the bed, say. Or in a mini-tent.

  “Does anyone know her?” I asked, keeping the bulk of my body across the mouth of the tent protectively. Until her father got there, keeping her safe was my job.

  “She lives next street over with her father.” That was the same voice. It turned out to belong to a man with grey in his red hair, and I don’t mean orange or ginger, I mean raspberry. “Behind his shop. Is she hurt?”

  “Not badly.” Quickheal had had a chance to start. I did Diagnosis again, and established to my satisfaction that it was working well. Even her heart was settling back towards a more reasonable speed. “And she’ll be back to normal in no time. As far as the injuries, at least.”

  “I’ve only ever seen her have one other bad moment, and that was years ago, but this was a freak accident that would upset anyone. Ah, here’s her father. Irami’s all right, Rialo. At least if something bad just had to happen, there was a paramedic with fast reflexes at hand to help.”

  The mostly-orange felid who skidded to a halt in front of me had his white ears halfway fttened and his bi-coloured tail partly fluffed. “Is she hurt?”

  “Very small injuries,” I said. “She did bang her head but not all that badly, and she came down wrong on one leg and twisted her hip a little. Otherwise, just some bruises. I just used fairly strong Quickheal magic on her, and everything is fixing itself up quickly. She got frightened, understandably, but she’s calming down now.” I stepped out of the way so he could reach the little calico.

  He dropped immediately to his knees—felids did have knees, after all, even if they were up a little higher—in the mouth of the tent. “Irami? I’m here, kitten, are you all right?” Honestly, he sounded like any other anxious parent I’d ever heard.

  Interesting that she lived with her father, when male cats usually didn’t have a major role in raising kittens. Her mother couldn’t be dead. Well, not really my business.

  “I don’t think I’m really needed any more,” I said, retreating a few steps further.

  The red-haired man shrugged. “I’m gd you were here just now, though. I don’t think anyone else even realized what was wrong until after you were already moving, and the best anyone in reach could have done was find a bnket and a Quickheal and hope she wasn’t hurt too badly while finding one of her parents or one of our local healers. So, on behalf of those of us who live and work in this part of town and know Irami and her family and would not like to see her harmed, thank you. New to Coppersands?”

  “Travelling through with friends. I’m gd I was here to help.” Even if she hadn’t been in any danger of death or devastating long-term effects, I’d at least been able to save her some pain and fear, and that was good enough.

  “Can I ask where you’re staying? Once Rialo calms down and can think of anything other than Irami, I think he’s going to want to thank you properly. Likely her mother will, too, once she hears about this.” He grinned. “Rather than us asking all over the city for anyone who’s seen a centaur paramedic...”

  I returned the smile. “We’ll be at the Golden Seashell for one more night. I think we’re pnning to leave early tomorrow, st I heard.” I’d made a point of noting the name, figuring the odds were high I’d be asking for directions back to it.

  “I’ll pass that on. Any supplies you need before you leave, you and your friends should come back to this neighbourhood. Everyone’ll know you helped and you’ll get better deals than you’d believe. Irami’s oldest sister and mother have some of the finest small household metal wares you’ll ever see anywhere, even in a school town, and I guarantee they’ll be grateful. You’ll want the sign with a teapot that has a pawprint on it, one street from the wharf and across from the public garden, her mother’s name’s Nelek.”

  “I’ll tell my friends that.” I wasn’t sure what else we might need, but Serru had spent a lot already, so I’d quite like a practical way to get the rest at a bargain. “I should get back to them.”

  He nodded. “Have a great day.”

  I didn’t actually have to get back in any hurry. Neither of my friends would be done yet. At least it gave me a graceful way to leave.

  It wasn’t a life-threatening crisis, but it still felt good that I could combine old skills and new resources and help a little girl who had, literally, been in the wrong pce at the wrong time.

  In a city where a human had thanked a centaur for helping a felid and no one had thought twice about any of that.