Temeraire had seen Cinna's work before, of course: it was very difficult not to, when it seemed sometimes that half the foreigners on the turtle wore something of his design. But they were all so very different, originating as they did from dozens of different worlds, and different times. He found, as he landed outside the shop with a rustle of wings, that he had very little idea of what to expect.

He paused for a moment, eyeing the door--would it accommodate him?--and settled, in the end, for rapping a careful claw against the glass.