Flint stomped back into the shop and slammed the door, inadvertently cutting off the welcome breeze that had eased the midsummer heat. He'd doffed his usual tunic in the heat, and wore only a lightweight pair of parchment-colored breeches and a loose shirt, the color of a robin's egg, gathered in the front and back and left untucked.

"That blankety mule," the dwarf groused. "I've made four different latches for her stall, and she's outsmarted every one."

"She adores you, Flint. Love conquers all, you know," Tanis commented, hiding a smile.

"My mother used to say, 'Love and a penny will get you a crusty bun with cheese at the Saturday market,' " Flint remarked, his concentration back on the drawing.

Tanis was opening his mouth to comment on Flint's sketches when he snapped it shut again. -He gazed at the dwarf in befuddlement. "So?" he finally asked.

"So?" the dwarf echoed, raising one bushy brow.

"So what does that mean?" the half-elf demanded.

"Reorx only knows," Flint said, seating himself at the table and taking up the charcoal again. "It was just something my mother said."

"Ah."

Flint twirled the drawings around so Tanis could see them. "Which do you prefer?"

Tanis pointed to the intertwined leaves. That one, but it's too plain."

The dwarf pondered the sketch. "That's what I thought. The problem is, I can't figure whether to do the medallion in metal or wood."

Tanis looked questioning at the dwarf.

"It seems," Flint explained, "as though wood would be a good medium-to show the elves' connection to nature. But a carved wooden medal will look like one of those birch disks the children use for play coins." Flint turned the sketches back toward himself. "Not exactly an image to celebrate the coming of age of the Speaker's heir."

"How about steel?" Tanis asked.

Flint thought, his voice far away, musing. "There's that. It's a precious metal, but everything comes across cold and heartless in steel. Take your mother's pendant." Tanis touched the hilt of the sword he still insisted on carrying everywhere with him. "It's beautiful, but it's… distant somehow. Beautiful-and full of meaning for you, her son-but it's not warm."

As the half-elf watched, the dwarf rested his forehead on his hands. "I don't have that much time left," he complained. "The Kentommen is coming up in two weeks, and I've yet to take my sketches to the Speaker for approval."

When Tanis didn't say anything, the dwarf rubbed his eyes one last time, rose, and crossed the dwelling to an oak sideboard that held a huge trencher of raspberries. There he used a wooden scoop to fill two pottery bowls with berries.

"Another gift from Eld Ailea?" Tanis asked ingenuously. "Like that shirt you're decked out in today?"

Flint glanced suspiciously at Tanis. "Exactly what is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing." Tanis held up his hands in mock-surrender.

The dwarf pointed the scoop at the half-elf. "Ailea has become a good friend. And I might add that you yourself have spent a fair amount of time with her in the past few weeks, lad."

Tanis plucked a berry from one bowl and ate it. "Do you want me to get some cream to pour over these?" Flint cooled his provisions, including milk and cream, by sealing them in ceramic jugs and lowering the containers into a spring in his back yard.

The dwarf spooned a generous portion of raspberries into his mouth, closed his eyes, and chewed slowly, murmuring, "Wonderful, just the way they are." Then his blue-gray eyes flew open, and he glared at the half-elf. "And anyway, I pay Ailea with toys. These are not gifts." He lifted the bowl and took it back to the table to examine his drawings.

Tanis decided it was time for a change of subject. "If you can't decide between wood and steel, why not mix them?" His voice was muffled with berries.

Flint nodded, not paying much attention. Then he turned to Tanis. "What was that you said?" he demanded.

"Why not mix…"

But Flint had already pulled out another sheet of parchment and was sketching away furiously. He mumbled to himself, but Tanis couldn't catch the words. The half-elf sighed. It was just as well; with the day's stultifying heat, Tanis was ready for a nap anyway. Five minutes later, the half-elf was curled up on Flint's cot, sound asleep.

The dwarf worked on.

It was early afternoon when Flint finally raised his head from the page. "Look at these, lad. I need your opinion." He looked over at Tanis, but the half-elf barely stirred. "Well!" Flint gazed again at his design, then rolled the sheet into a cylinder, leaving the others on the table, and departed, closing the door quietly.

Thirty minutes later, Flint had unrolled the paper on the Speaker's marble-topped table in the Tower. Solostaran leaned over to examine the dwarf's suggestion.

"I've decided to mix gold, silver, steel, antler, red coral, and malachite," the dwarf said excitedly. "And aspen wood."

The sketch showed a medallion about the size of a child's fist. The medal depicted a woodland scene, with an aspen in the foreground and a path leading back through spruce trees to a hill. Above the hill were two moons. "I'll make the medal by sandwiching a back plate of steel with a fore plate of gold. Into the gold fore plate I'll cut out the figures-the trees, the moons, the path."

Solostaran nodded. It was a clever plan. "What of the coral and malachite?" he asked. "Where do they fit in?"

"I'll inlay the piece," Flint explained. "Once I've sandwiched the two plates together, I'll fill in the outline of the trees-green malachite for the leaves and branches and brown antler for the trunk. The path will be of antler and steel. One moon, Lunitari, will be of red coral. The other, Solinari, will be formed of silver."

But the Speaker looked dubious. "It's beautiful, but it's so elaborate. Are you sure you can fashion this in two weeks?"

Flint winked, and dipped a handful of dried figs and glazed almonds from the silver bowl on the desk. The bowl always seemed to be full whenever the dwarf arrived, but Flint never paused to consider the significance of that; he merely congratulated himself on his good fortune in having a friend whose taste in snacks mirrored his own. 'The hard part is the thinking," the dwarf said. "The rest comes easily.

"Is the design all right?" Hint waited confidently, knowing the Speaker would be pleased but wanting to hear him say it.

"It's perfect." Solostaran said.

A smile split the dwarf's face. "Good. Then I'll get working right away." He reached for his drawing.

Solostaran's voice stopped him. "Master Fireforge. Flint."

The dwarf looked at his friend.

"What are people saying in the aftermath of Lord Xenoth's death?" the Speaker asked quietly.

Flint's hand remained suspended above the parchment. Then he slowly rolled up the sketch. "Well, you know I don't have much business with many of the courtiers now." Especially since he'd taken Tanis's side after the tylor hunt, he might have added.

"What are the common folk saying, then?"

Flint tied a string around the rolled paper and exhaled slowly. "Lord Xenoth wasn't much liked by many people, especially those he considered… lower-class," he said carefully. "But many elves also approved of his views about keeping Qualinesti apart from the rest of Krynn." He decided to plunge on ahead. 'Those same elves don't approve of my being here, and they're not overly fond of allowing half-elves to live in the city, either."

'There are fanatics on every issue," Solostaran murmured. "The question is, how prevalent are they?"

"That I don't know, sir."

Solostaran smiled wanly. "Call me 'Speaker,' " he said. "Remember when I told you that, the day you arrived in Qualinost?"