"It seems crazy. How do they move their cargo if they don't know where they're going to be docking?"

"That's how they've done it for hundreds of years," she replied. "I don't know the specifics of how they transport cargo, but they must have some kind of system."

Tarrin peeked out of the shoulder bag to see them approach Dayise. They had cleared the ring of anchored ships and were moving into the harbor. He noticed that there were no sea fortresses, no naval defenses in place to defend the island city from shipborne attack. Then again, who would dare attack? The sheer number of ships coming and going, all of which would probably join in the defense of the important city, meant that an attacker would have to fight an armada of various ships to gain access to the islands. Kern directed the ship into the middle of the rows of stone quays, until he pulled up to an open slip at the end of one of the larger piers. It was painted red-Tomas must own the berth-and men were on hand to accept ropes thrown from the ship so it could be pulled in and secured.

It only took about twenty minutes to go from the Wikuni frigate to being tied to the dock. Once the ship was stable, the gangplank was lowered, and Kern approached them from the steering deck. "Here ye be, Mistress Dolanna," he told her in his gravelly voice. "I hope ye have a good journey."

"Your aid was indispensible, Captain Kern," she replied with a gentle smile, letting him take her hand. "We thank you, both for your aid and for your discretion."

"Tell Kern to expect a new cat sometime in the next couple of days," Tarrin told Keritanima in the manner of the Cat.

"Uh, Kern, Tarrin says to expect a new cat in the next couple of days. If that makes any sense."

"Aye, it makes perfect sense," he replied. "He said he'd be teachin' a cat that looks like him how to act, so I can use it to bluff anyone who knows about him."

"Clever," Keritanima said appreciatively.

"Good journey to ye, Dolanna," Kern said. "I got repairs to oversee."

"May the winds ever favor you, Kern," Dolanna replied. "Alright, my friends, let us find an inn, then I will attempt to locate Renoit. Keritanima, help me hide your Vendari companions behind Illusions."

Dayise's streets were wide, and there was a curious lack of horses that were common in Suld. The place smelled of people and fish, rotting fish, and the wastes associated with both of them. But the sea breeeze blew in from the ocean, cleansing it of much of the miasma that hung over Suld. Tarrin peeked out of the shoulder bag and watched people go by, people dressed in every imaginable style and manner. Suld was a port city, but Dayise was a port first and a city second. What caught his attention was that ever third person was Wikuni. The Wikuni almost owned Dayise, it seemed, for there were a tremendous amount of them walking the city streets. Azakar led their group along the streets, following Dolanna's quietly relayed directions. None of the Wikuni gave Keritanima or Miranda even a second look. After all, Keritanima looked totally different from what she did now, and the Vendari bodyguards that always accompanied her were absent. Nobody would believe that the fox-Wikuni was the High Princess.

"Get down, Tarrin," Miranda said under her breath.

Tarrin hunkered down a bit so he couldn't be seen, but kept looking about intently. The architecture of the city was modest, most of the buildings being made of a grayish stone with white streaks in it, probably quarried from the islands themselves. Most buildings were directly against the street, making the place feel more like a hallway than a thoroughfare. Most of the buildings were inns or taverns, but that was a function of their location. So close to the docks, they were in an area that catered either to cargo or to the men that crewed the ships. Because sailors were a very rowdy bunch, most of the buildings showed some minor damage, and bits of broken glass and the occasional splinter or tankard shard could be found near the walls of the buildings. The run-down appearance of the area told them that the owners weren't all that worried about appearances anyway. There were very few horses, and the ones that were there were all pulling carts. There were some litter-carriers, hauling about this or that rich person, even a coach or two. But almost everyone was on foot, and most of them had the look of seafarers. There were a surprising number of women about, obviously citizens who looked after the businesses that catered to the very many travellers and sailors that frequented the city, but a good number of them were wearing the revealing dresses and had the general appearances of prostitutes. For such a group, there was no doubt that there were a good number of brothels in the city. That didn't count the freelancer hard currency girls. It was a Shacean city, and his father had told him often than Shaceans didn't look down on prostitution. It was a job, just like any other, and it wasn't a bad thing for a woman to be a prostitute. There was a great deal of money to be made in the trade, if the woman had the right body and face. Shaceans were a rather liberal sort when it came to that kind of thing, a facet of their general happy-go-lucky and free-wheeling culture. But not every woman was wearing a dress with her breasts hanging out of it, and those women disappeared as they moved further and further from the docks. Some were wearing very well-made dresses and jewelry, markers of either well-to-do husbands or good business practices, but most were dressed in simple garb that marked them as workers or servants. Most of the rich-looking women were escorted by armed men who kept an eye on the other pedestrians, trained bodyguards not unlike Binter and Sisska.

Dolanna's directions took them to a slightly better part of the city, a neighborhood where the paint was a bit fresher and the streets not as populated by salt-smelling men. A residential area, where the citizens lived and the better or more refined inns and taverns could be found. She pointed Azakar to an inn called the Dancing Swan. "That is where we will go," she told him. "I have stayed here before."

"Looks common," Keritanima said, sniffing slightly.

"It appears common, Kaylin," Dolanna said, using Keritanima's assumed name. "But you will not find a more interesting innkeeper."

"Really," she drawled as Azakar opened the door.

The interior was clean, well maintained, and elegantly decorated. Art hung on the walls, and a young, handsome boy sat in the corner playing a curious wooden instrument with strings that he held under his chin. The sound of the instrument was haunting, and it was quite lovely. The place smelled of humans and alcohol, but the most sumptuous smells of roasting beef, pork, and goose wafted from a door in the back. A huge chaba wood bar, deeply burnished so the red hue of the wood shined, dominated the back wall of the inn, and the floor was peppered with a great many circular tables, all with padded chairs pushed underneath them. There were a surprising number of patrons, filling the tables, as well-dressed serving maids moved between them with grace and poise. A large man stood behind the bar, serving drinks, but it was not to him that Dolanna looked. She looked to a man dressed in a white silk shirt with a brown vest, a man that looked young and vibrant, with dark hair and handsome looks. He had a slightly narrow face and looked light-boned and slender, but the warm smile on his face seemed to brighten the room.

"Snazzy," Miranda said, looking around.

"Elegant," Keritanima agreed.

Dolanna walked up to the table and lowered her veil, which made the man's face light in recognition. "Madame Dolanna!" he said with a slightly twanged voice, a Torian accent. "So good of you to visit with me again! I didn't know that you had your eyes on marriage, or I would have suited you," he said with a sly wink.