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Door shivered. “I’m so stupid,” she muttered. “I should have known. Three of us. I should never have come straight here.”
    Hunter’s head was moving from side to side. She had noted the position of each of the friars and each of the crossbows; she had calculated the odds of getting Door over the side of the bridge first unharmed, then with only minor injuries, and lastly with major injury to herself, but only minor injury to Door. She was now recalculating. “And what would you have done differently if you _had_ known?” she asked.
    “I wouldn’t have brought _him_ here, for a start,” said Door. “I’d have found the marquis.”
    Hunter put her head on one side. “You trust him?” she asked, directly, and Door knew she was talking of de Carabas, not Richard.
    “Yes,” said Door. “I more or less trust him.”Other Basketball Shoes,Top Basketball Shoes, Best Basketball Shoes 2011
    _Door had been five years old for just two days. The market was being held in the Gardens at Kew on that day, and her father had taken her with him, as a birthday treat. It was her first market. They were in the butterfly house, surrounded by brightly colored wings, iridescent weightless things that entranced and fascinated her, when her father crouched down beside her. “Door?” he said. “Turn around slowly, and look over there.”_