“Watch closely,” Polo said to Hunter.

Marcia slowly wrote a straight, horizontal line. Below it, she wrote two, the bottom one longer than the other. Then she wrote a character with three horizontal lines.

“Even I recognize those,” Polo said with a smile. “The numbers one, two, and three.”

Steve saw that the character for “four” was more complex; it was a rectangle with two squiggles inside.

Marcia wrote ten characters in all. Then she dipped the brush in the water pan, rinsed it, and laid it carefully across the ink bowl. With a slight bow, she stepped back out of the way.

“The characters have great beauty,” said Polo. “I believe she has simply written from one to ten.”

Hunter nodded, leaning over the paper. “This paper accepts the ink very well. It must be much cheaper than parchment. Is it widely used?”

“Yes.” Polo picked up a large porcelain bowl of water. A flat, narrow piece of metal with a point on one end floated on top of it. “Hold this in your hand.”

Hunter took it.

“Now turn the bowl so that the arrow points a different direction.”

Hunter did so.

“Watch.”

Steve saw that the arrow, bobbing slightly, slowly turned to point north. He suppressed a smile. At first, he hadn’t recognized it as a compass.

“What is the significance of this needle?” Hunter asked politely.

Steve knew very well Hunter was still acting out his role. Beside him, Marcia turned away to hide her own smile of amusement. Not laughing at Polo had become a major challenge for both of them.

“It always points north,” said Polo. “As travelers who have crossed uncountable miles, you and I know how helpful it could be.”

“Yes, I see.” Hunter gently laid down the bowl.

“You told my servant that you arrived recently in Khanbaliq. These wonders are all new to you?”

“They exist only here, do they not?” Hunter looked around at the other items on the long tables. “No one in Europe has ever seen them.”

“That is true,” said Marco. “I hope to bring some of them back to Venice someday.”

Hunter nodded noncommittally.

“How can I help you?” Polo asked. “Do you need introductions here in the city, perhaps for your business?”

“I seek another foreigner, who goes by the nickname MC 5. He is a European, short and slight in stature.”

“What is his trade?”

Steve tensed, wondering what Hunter would say.

“We believe he is seeking a post with the government,” said Hunter.

“Ah, a civil servant.” Polo nodded. “Has he been in Khanbaliq long?”

“No,” said Hunter. “A few days at most, but maybe even less.”

“I see.” Polo turned to his servant in the doorway and spoke in heavily accented Chinese. “See to it.”

The servant bowed quickly and hurried away.

Polo picked up a large porcelain bottle and pulled out the cork stopper. “Of all the wonders in the khan’s empire, this is the most spectacular.” He poured some gray powder out of the bottle into a small stone dish.

Steve looked at Marcia, puzzled. “What did he mean when he told his servant to ‘see to it,’ about MC 5?” he whispered in Chinese.

“I think the head servant will probably order some of the others to go to the palace or ask their other contacts in the city,” said Marcia.

The servant returned to the doorway. Polo pointed to the gray powder. The servant bowed, then left again.

Steve looked back at the substance in the dish. He was fairly sure it was gunpowder. When he glanced at Marcia, she shrugged almost imperceptibly.

Without speaking, Polo cut a short piece of string from a roll with a small knife. Then he rolled the string in the powder until it was gray. He pulled it out so that the string overhung the edge of the dish and then laid it down.

The servant returned with a burning candle in a brass holder. Polo took it from him. Then the servant returned to the doorway again.

“Watch carefully,” said Polo.

Steve suppressed a smile and caught Marcia’s eye. She, too, was fighting a laugh. Hunter, of course, looked as though he had no idea what was about to happen.

Polo lit the fuse. It fizzed, sparked, and crackled. The line of fire quickly moved into the dish, where the remaining powder burned as well. Marco set the candle down on the table and stepped back.

When the gunpowder had burned down, the servant came back into the room. He leaned over the table to open a window, then picked up a small fan. As Polo moved out of his way, he waved the smoke toward the open window.

“Your companions are amused because this is old and familiar to them,” said Polo pleasantly. “But you must understand the power of this substance. When tightly packed in a container, it explodes with great force. When a hole for the release of the fire and smoke is provided, it can make the container fly up into the air.” He looked at Hunter for his reaction.

“Indeed?” Hunter said cautiously.

“A container of this type can send fire many times farther than a burning arrow,” Marco said grimly.

Hunter simply nodded.

Steve realized that Hunter did not want to enter a discussion about the potential of gunpowder. Anything he said could alter what Polo would later write in his memoirs. None of them dared react very much.

“I, too, was shocked by the idea,” said Polo. “But you will get used to seeing many wonders here in this empire if you stay long. Come. Let us return to the sitting room.”