"Don't be alarmed."

Darkness seemed to follow the figure as he stepped forward into the doorway, then the shadows drained away, or perhaps he'd just shifted forward into the reach of the candles' light.

"How did you get up here?" she demanded, wondering why Chap hadn't alerted them to an intruder.

The man was about forty years old, of medium height and build. His peppered-brown hair lay carefully combed back. Perfect white patches at both temples framed even features that were striking rather than handsome. There was a slight widening bump at the bridge of his nose. His clothes were hidden beneath a floor-length, mahogany cloak. Only the rounded points of well-made boots were visible. He did not appear to be armed, but there was no way to tell what might be hidden beneath that cloak. His hands were clasped in front of his chest, and she noticed the top half of the little finger on his left hand was missing.

"Answer up!" Leesil snapped. He was now on his feet and had somehow produced a second blade in his other hand.

The man stared for a moment at Magiere's falchion, as if studying it, then he looked her over with as much concentration. His eyes stopped to rest on her amulets. She wanted him to stop looking at her and quickly tucked the amulets inside the dress, out of sight. While shoving them beneath her bodice, she noticed the topaz stone seemed brighter than normal, but she turned her attention back to the stranger. He gave no notice at all to Leesil.

"My name is Welstiel Massing. But you're the one, aren't you? The one who kills vampires?"

Magiere couldn't think of a response. The man spoke so blatantly, without any pretense, as if it was a common thing to ask a stranger.

"We don't know what you're babbling about," Leesil answered. "But we aren't open to customers yet. I suggest you come back tomorrow."

Again this Welstiel Massing acted as if no one had spoken, his attention centered on Magiere.

"You are not what I expected, but you're the one."

"I don't do that anymore," Magiere answered.

Something about this stranger frightened her-as much as anything ever frightened her. She wanted nothing to do with any aspect of her own past, and his presence disturbed the recently gained balance of her new life.

"I doubt you can avoid it here," Welstiel said. "I just came to warn you."

"Get out," she said coldly, losing her patience, "or I'll throw you out."

Welstiel backed up, not in fear, but as if he were a creature with impeccable manners. "Forgive me. I simply thought to warn you."

"Well, now you have," Leesil spoke up, "and I'll show you the front door." He moved forward.

For a moment it appeared this night visitor was not going to move. Then his eyes rolled casually toward Leesil. He turned and headed down the hallway as if leaving was his own idea.

Both Leesil and Magiere were caught in their own surprise for a moment, and then Leesil bolted out the door to "escort" Welstiel Massing down the stairs. Magiere followed in time to see her partner standing at the top of the stairs, wide-eyed. She heard the tavern's door downstairs close. Leesil looked back at Magiere with an expression on his face as if he'd come in on the tail end of a bizarre conversation that he couldn't quite figure out.

"He's rather quick for an older man," Leesil said quietly, then added, "I'll be back." And he scrambled down the stairs out of sight.

Magiere returned to her room and sank down onto her bed. Whatever this visitor had come for, she would not be dragged back into the old game-not for money, not for anything.

Leesil appeared again in the doorway. "Chap, Caleb, and Beth-rae are all asleep in the kitchen. I told you she was feeding him too much."

"I'll speak with her in the morning." Magiere nodded, glad to focus on tasks at hand again, anything to distract her. "But wasn't the front door locked?"

"I'm not sure. I just assumed so. Caleb and Beth-rae don't seem the types to leave the place wide open." He was about to leave again, but stopped, turning to Magiere with serious intent on his face. "Don't let that lunatic bother you. We'll keep him out of the tavern. We don't have to do business with anyone we don't want to."

Magiere laid her falchion back down, watching candlelight reflect off the shining blade.

"That's not necessary. I think he's harmless, but he's out on his ear if he starts talking about vampires again."

"How do these people find us?"

She looked at him with a little annoyance. They'd spent years spreading every possible rumor across the countryside about her, just so people could find her.

"Yes, right," Leesil added. "Stupid question."

She shook her head. "We'll try to open for business as soon as possible."

"Have you come up with a name?"

"I thought you'd do that when you painted the sign."

"How about "The Blood Pie Inn'?"

"You're not funny."

He laughed and stepped out, closing the door behind himself.

Chapter Six

Two evenings later, a somewhat refurbished tavern named "The Sea Lion" opened shortly before dusk. Leesil had never lived close to the ocean before, and watching a herd of sea lions swim along the cresting waves heading north had sparked inspiration for a name that suggested location and strength. At first he hadn't even known what to call the creatures he saw, until he asked one of the sailors down at the docks. Magiere knew she possessed little imagination with words, but Leesil usually expressed enough words and imagination for both of them.

Most of their patrons were sailors far from home, or unmarried dockworkers. A few young couples showed up as well. There were also two middle-aged women shopkeepers claiming to love Beth-rae's fish chowder, who came trundling in behind the main crowd. After eating, the pair took eager interest in the new attraction of Leesil's faro table and sat chatting comfortably with the nearby sailors as Leesil flipped the cards.

Ironically, the old caretakers, especially Beth-rae, seemed like gifts from the heavens. Before arriving in Miiska, Magiere had never really given thought to serving food, but now realized her shortsightedness. Everyone who sat about talking and drinking and playing cards ordered something to eat, sooner or later. They came for the food almost as much as the ale. One pair of dark-skinned dock-workers even ordered spiced tea. Magiere discovered she didn't have any such thing in stock, but when she told the two men, they looked at her as if a house special they'd ordered for years had suddenly disappeared from their favorite place. She ran upstairs and blended something from her leftover travel rations, then handed it off to Beth-rae to brew as an "on-the-house" replacement until she could purchase the proper blend. Other than this one free offering, the money was coming in. It was not a fortune, and it might take weeks or more to make as much as she and Leesil had taken from a village or two, but it was certainly a more comfortable way to make a living. Caleb had helped establish the price of served goods, based on what the previous owner had charged, and that was as good a place to start as any.

Magiere returned to her favored post behind the bar and watched as Caleb served out drinks and delivered orders of delectables from Beth-rae's kitchen. She leaned back against an ale keg on the rear counter and relaxed just a little, feeling clean and comfortable. Beth-rae had washed out her old black breeches the night before, and Magiere wore them now, along with a loose white shirt and unbuttoned russet vest she'd picked up at the open market. She wore her amulets tucked inside the shirt, as was her custom. In spite of the many life changes of late, the dress Aunt Bieja had given her simply didn't feel right, so she'd decided to stick with habit in her attire.