"I'm sorry," Magiere said. "But you should have told me.

"You were too young, and why burden you more? You'd enough to deal with as a child."

"What was this lord's name?" Leesil asked.

Bieja shook her head. "That was a long time ago, and we weren't worthy of such information. We just called him 'my lord. "

"Was it Massing?" Leesil pressed.

Wynn straightened, recognizing this one word. Magiere felt as if she'd been struck in the face and turned on Leesil.

"It had to be said," he whispered in apology.

"Perhaps others heard it," Bieja said, pondering the name for a moment. "I can't remember."

"Who is the current lord?" Leesil asked. "Maybe there are still records or some other mention to be found at the keep."

"No lord," Bieja answered. "I guess the Antes couldn't find anyone willing. Our zupan, Cadell, was appointed as overseer. He and his wife are at the keep now. Cadell is a good man, at least. You can go speak with him tomorrow."

Magiere barely heard her aunt's response. Each time she sought plain and direct answers, the truth, like all else in her life, became muddied.

"Enough for tonight," Leesil said. "Your aunt is right. We can go to the keep tomorrow."

Wynn had been trying to follow the exchange, and Magiere assumed she'd probably understood some of it. The sage sat up straight, on the point of speaking, then appeared to change her mind. She slid off her chair to the floor and began whispering to Chap. The dog looked at her and pawed at the sage's pack. Wynn pulled out the Elvish talking hide, and the two of them went to sit in the corner by the spinning wheel.

"What in the world are those two doing?" Bieja asked.

Magiere sighed. "A long story."

"The long ones are the only ones worth telling," Bieja responded, and her attention turned once again to Leesil. "And I've a few questions of my own."

The older woman got up to pull a tin kettle from beside the fire. She poured tea into unglazed clay cups for the three of them, and Leesil started to fidget.

"Well, it's sort of… We have this…" he began.

Bieja clunked the kettle down and snatched up the side of Leesil's long hair, exposing one oblong ear.

"Hey!" was all Leesil got out.

"I knew you were wrong somehow!" Bieja shouted. "What do you think you're doing with my niece, you imp?"

She lunged to the shelves and grabbed an old notched carving knife. Leesil sprang to his feet, both hands going up his opposing sleeves, reaching for his stilettos.

"You may have charmed her wits, but I see you clear. " Bieja said. "I know of changelings. I know a forest spirit, right enough."

"What?" Leesil sputtered. "I'm not-hold off a breath!"

Before Magiere could grab Leesil or try for her aunt, Leesil's surprise and reluctance undid them both. Instead of drawing steel on Magiere's only relative, Leesil back-pedaled. The bench caught behind his legs, toppled, and Magiere tumbled over backward to the hut's floor.

"Auntie-no!" she shouted, and kicked the bench out from under her legs.

Bieja rounded the table, closing on Leesil, who scooted backward across the floor as fast as he could. She stomped on his outstretched leg, pinning one of his feet.

"And you aren't taking her into your zunu world," she snapped, "like some lost maid in the woods!"

"Magiere!" Leesil yelped.

He sounded more pathetic than she'd ever heard before, but it was Wynn who scrambled across the floor on all fours, waving her hands up in front of Bieja.

"No, not… bad… friend," was all Wynn could get out.

Bieja shoved her off with little effort. "Get your addled wits out of my way, girl. He's charmed you, too."

The delay was enough for Magiere to regain her feet and grab Bieja's wrist.

"Auntie, stop it! He's not some lecherous spirit trying to drag me off. He's just an elf."

"I am not," Leesil snapped, pulling up his stomped foot and holding it with both hands. "My mother was."

"Bog swill!" Bieja spat. "No such thing as elves-that's just foreigners' tall tales. No such creature has ever been seen hereabouts."

"Oh, deceitful deities," Leesil muttered.

Chap let out a yawn from the corner, where he still sat throughout the ruckus. Wynn whispered harshly at the dog in Elvish. Magiere wasn't certain what the sage had said, but Chap looked away, dropping his head.

"You're a big help," Leesil said to the dog.

Chap huffed and lay down on the floor.

The irony of Bieja's exclamation hadn't escaped Magiere. She wanted to pour out the whole story to her aunt, who still loved her without question, who had held off a village elder with a sword and assaulted the evil forest spirit trying to beguile her niece.

But she couldn't speak of everything.

Not that she and Leesil had spent late summer and early fall hunting vampires of myth and superstition. Not that she was descended from these same Noble Dead who preyed upon the living. And certainly not mat for years she'd made a living-and even sent home part of the coin-from swindling villagers out of their savings using their own fears against them.

"Leesil and I own a tavern… but mat came later," she said. "And elves are flesh and blood, though few have seen them. Leesil's mother was one of the few who've lived among humans. For the rest, I don't know where to start."

Bieja eyed Leesil, clearly uncertain if her niece was of her own mind. "How did you meet this here… elf?"

"I'm not an elf," Leesil muttered.

"He tried to pick my pocket," Magiere said without thinking, and her aunt glared at Leesil with malicious intent.

"That's not what happened," Leesil blurted. "Well… sort of."

Magiere sighed and carefully lifted the knife from her aunt's grip. Some things had to be explained, if not all.

Chapter 4

L eesil awoke the next morning to a chilly room. The fire had died in the night, and mere was a chill in his stomach, as well. Today, they visited the keep where Magiere's mother had died.

Magiere woke beside him on the dirt floor and pulled back their blanket. Her stoic front couldn't hide the dread in her eyes. The sooner they finished with this, the sooner he could take her from this place.

She remained silent through their light breakfast, and this bothered Leesil as never before. Perhaps because mere were so many unanswered questions concerning Magiere's past or even questions he couldn't yet imagine. However, now that Aunt Bieja was certain he wasn't going to spirit off her niece, she sat and chatted with him, explaining all she could of local affairs. The zupan tending the keep and fief wouldn't be available until midafternoon. Still but a commoner himself, he had his own lands and household to tend, so he preferred dealing with fief matters in the early afternoon, and left any audiences for late in the day.

"Fief matters?" Leesil asked. "What exactly does he do?"

Bieja smiled. "We're more fortunate than most clanships.

Cadell handles the accounting himself and checks to see how the villages in each zupanesta in the fief are faring. There are five villages alone for our clan's zupanesta. If disaster strikes any village, and they cannot pay all their taxes, he faces the collectors of the Antes house himself."

Leesil's fondness for Aunt Bieja grew steadily, although she could be a little daunting at times. Strong and sensible, she was knowledgeable in spite of a lifetime of superstitions. After the previous night's misunderstanding, it was plain that lightning tempers coupled with protective natures ran in this family's women.

"Well, if we can't visit the keep until later," he said, "what can we do around here? By necessity, I've gotten handy at mending roofs and old furniture."

"I understood some of that," Wynn said, clearing bowls from the table. "If we have the morning free, I would like to wash out some clothes. Magiere?"