Teesha nodded, her face intense. Ratboy could just glimpse her smooth, white stomach through the rip in her red gown.

"Yes, Rashed," she said. "If we kill her friends first and then destroy her, will you take us away from here? We can rebuild someplace else?"

His voice softened, and he stepped over to stand behind her petite form. "Of course. We can't stay in Miiska."

"One on one is the only way," Ratboy put in. "Less chance of being seen."

"All right then," Teesha said, almost happily. "I will take the blacksmith… no, Edwan, don't be concerned. He lives in solitude. I will sing him to sweet sleep before he even knows what's happening."

"I'll take the half-elf," Ratboy said in resignation. "I can use the dog to lure him off by himself. Although to deal with the dog, I may have to use something vile and mortal like a crossbow." He smiled. "Or maybe an ax."

"You're both certain?" Rashed asked. "I know they're just mortals, but don't try anything unless you can each draw the blacksmith and half-elf off by themselves."

"Don't be so protective," Teesha answered. "I know how to control a mortal."

That much was true, Ratboy mused. She knew how to control immortals as well.

Rashed wanted the hunter's blood tonight, but Ratboy could tell this new plan made sense.

"Decided then," the tall undead said, more to himself than anyone. "Her friends die now, and we'll track her down tomorrow. Then we'll be free to go."

Edwan watched this entire exchange in silence, but his form was exuding a cold that even bothered Ratboy-who never felt the cold.

"And what will you be doing while the two of them are out murdering this hunter's followers?" the ghost asked Rashed.

Rashed stepped back in calm determination. The sea wind blew against his torn tunic. "There's only one hole in the belly of that ship. Otherwise, it's intact. I'm going to try to repair it and push it off the ground."

At first, Magiere found the thought of serving customers at The Sea Lion that night to be absurd. She could not believe Leesil had made a public announcement that they would be open for business.

Caleb quickly put together a simple mutton soup, and Leesil bought bread from Karlin's bakeshop. They tried to lay the convalescing Chap on Leesil's bed and close the bedroom door, but he whined and pawed at the door so much that Magiere relented and brought him back downstairs. All his wounds were nearly healed, but he still moved slowly and carefully. As long as he lay quietly by the fire and pretended to keep watch, he could stay in the common room with everyone else.

Once people began arriving to drink ale and talk, her spirits lifted slightly. Leesil's instincts were correct yet again. The inn was transformed into a place of life, food, and chatter. She'd spent too much time with death lately.

Her clientele was slightly altered. Fewer dockworkers came, but more shopkeepers and market-dwellers walked through the door and shouted greetings. Of course, she could always count on a variety of sailors. Several fishermen's wives made a fuss over Leesil's face, and he in turn soaked up the attention like a dry sea sponge.

Magiere poured tankards of ale and goblets of wine, the new glass goblets purchased as a gift by some of the local folk. Leesil helped Caleb serve soup until the supper crowd was sated, and then he started up a loud faro game. Too loud for her tastes, perhaps, but half the room alternated in and out of players' positions, the other half shouting or cursing at the luck of the cards.

Something in the air felt almost like a harvest celebration. Although Magiere could not take part, an expected-but not entirely unwanted-feeling of satisfaction began pushing away the guilt and horror she'd experienced earlier when Geoffry and Aria tried to pay her. Miiska was her home now. Intentionally or not, she and Leesil had actually done something to protect it.

This thought forced her gaze from the ale cask to the only person in the room not celebrating: Brenden.

He'd stayed all day on the pretense of helping get the tavern set up, but she had a feeling he simply didn't want to go home. Now he sat alone, drinking, occasionally smiling and nodding when someone else spoke to him. But the moment he was left in solitude again, she saw a deep sadness settle back over him. He was clean now, wearing a long-sleeved white shirt and brown breeches. Without his blacksmith's leather, he looked more vulnerable somehow. Magiere wanted to comfort him, but she didn't know how.

She herself was wearing the tight-laced, dark blue dress Aunt Bieja had given her so many years ago. As Leesil had pointed out that morning, her usual clothes were ruined beyond repair. She ordered a new set from Baltzar, a local tailor, but for now, the dress would have to do. Besides, the sight of it made Leesil smile. She owed him that much at least, and tried to return his pleased glances. Still, when she looked at him, the half-memory of his pale skin and bleeding arm would rush back to her.

The door opened again. Karlin the baker, Geoffry, and Aria all swept in with a chorus of "hellos" and laughter. Both young people went to watch the faro table, and Karlin practically danced over to the bar.

"You look lovely," he said, smiling.

"So do you," she joked.

"Pour me an enormous tankard of ale. I rarely drink, but tonight is different."

"And why is that?" she asked, wondering if she wanted to broach the subject at all.

"You know good and well. Our town is safe. The streets are safe. Our children are safe. I think I'll drink till dawn."

Much as Magiere's thoughts still wandered to dark places, the jolly baker's mood was infectious.

"I'm going to need a steady supply of bread if you can manage," she said. "At least for a while."

He nodded, his plump face glowing.

"I have a better idea. Aria's father is the local cobbler. He does a good business, but there are five children in the family, and they can only assist him so much. The girl's a fine cook. I thought you might want to employ her now that… well, now that Beth-rae is gone."

Magiere realized that one of the things she liked about Karlin was his ability to discuss the truth without ever seeming crude or unfeeling.

"Is she interested?"

"Yes, we spoke of such an arrangement on the way over."

Magiere nodded. "I'll speak with her later." She paused and tried to seem lighthearted. "Why don't you go visit with Brenden? I see he's sitting alone."

Karlin picked up his tankard. "I'll just do that."

And so the night went on.

The townsfolk of Miiska stayed late. Magiere had not spoken to Caleb of any matters beyond business. She felt shame that Beth-rae's body had been taken from the kitchen and buried at some point during the past two days, but she didn't know where or when. She would have to ask later, when a proper moment allowed. She would take Leesil, and they would pay their final respects. He needed to do this as much or more than she did. And she would see to it that flowers were placed regularly at the grave.

Little Rose was sitting by Chap near the fire. She appeared wide awake, wearing her usual muslin dress. Her long, blond curls hung in an uncombed mess. Magiere didn't have the heart to send her up to bed.

Sometime, past the heart of the night, when only a few patrons remained, Leesil stood up and announced it was time to close. His actions surprised her slightly, but she agreed and helped him to good-naturedly usher the last celebrators out-all except Brenden.

"What a night," the half-elf exclaimed as he closed the door. "I'm ready to drop."

The huge common room felt empty and too quiet now. Magiere heard the fire crackling, and she turned to see Rose lying asleep on the braid rug beside Chap, the dog with his nose pushed warmly into the back of the child's neck. She almost went to wake her, then thought better of it. Let the child rest there. Leesil could carry her upstairs later.