Anja was winning with a card she had mistaken for another card.
She had put it down with complete confidence. Jem had objected. Neri had looked at the table, looked at Anja and begun laughing so hard she could not explain the rule. Iven, who had only just arrived, stood in the doorway holding a bowl and waited to learn whether he was about to be asked to repair something.
“Don’t let him help,” Jem said.
“I don’t know what happened.”
“Good. Keep it that way.”
Anja studied the card. It showed a little black tower with three windows, the ink worn almost away at the corners.
“I thought it was the mill.”
“The mill has sails.”
