"Oh, no. I have a lovely three-story home in the city. For anyone interested in real society, I think Bela is the only place to live."

He nodded politely.

"Your eyes-so unusual," she said. "Where are you from?"

"I don't know." He hesitated, then added, "My mother was elven."

"An elf?" she replied with interest. "Ah, but I think your father was human, yes? You're half-elven?"

"Yes," he answered flatly. "I'm a half-blood."

"Oh, I didn't mean that. It's just… I've heard elves live a very long time. That their life force is much stronger than humans. Is that true?"

For the first time, he smiled. "Where'd you hear such a thing?"

She laughed, but it was forced, as if she were embarrassed by her own bluntness. "If all half-elves look like you, I should be glad to meet more of them."

The second those words left her mouth, Leesil tensed in his chair.

"Well, thank you," he said. "But if you're a wealthy man's daughter or wife looking for a unique diversion, I don't think I'm your man."

He stood up, took his goblet, walked toward the game room, and didn't bother looking back to see her expression.

The game room was hectic, but it didn't take long to find a seat at an empty table. He settled to sip his wine and watch the faro game.

Another flash of lavender caught his eye. Sapphire had followed him.

He began to stand, but she stopped him with a delicate hand on his shoulder. Before he could blink, she pressed him back into his chair and settled sleekly into his lap.

"I just wanted to know you better." Sapphire said Looking down at him, she made a show of stretching her torso upright as she brushed her hair back.

Now it was his turn to stare at her-or whatever ample features hung right before his eyes.

Magiere sat on the bed's edge, ignoring the bowl of mutton stew on the bedside table. Chap shoved his nose into her hand, and she petted his head a few times, but her thoughts were elsewhere.

"Was I too hard on him?" she said.

Chap sat down with a low whine, eyes intent.

"Just when I think he's improving, he gets drunk and loses our money, and then he's too cowardly to admit it." Throwing up her hands in disgust, she looked at Chap, wishing he could speak. "You make more sense than he does."

Chap trotted to the door, scratched at it, and looked back at her.

"You have to go out… now?"

He woofed once, tail swishing.

"Fine," she muttered. "It's not like I have anything better to do."

Taking Chap out to do his after-meal business was now Magiere's high point for the day. It wasn't enough that they'd gotten nowhere with their search. Now Leesil was playing some idiotic gallant, offering up his… blood… as if she'd ever again let that happen. What was the fool thinking? Out of habit more than need, she snatched up her falchion, preparing to strap it on as she opened the door. Before she could finish, Chap bolted out and down the stairs.

"Chap, stop," she shouted, rushing after the hound, but he quickly left her behind.

Loud exclamations came from below in the common room, followed by a raucous clatter and a string of curses in a high-pitched voice.

When Magiere descended, she looked about for the dog. The common room was empty, except for one old man still smoking by the front door, who now stared wide-eyed toward the bar. She followed the gaze, noticed the curtained doorway behind the bar that most likely led to the kitchen, and her eyes narrowed.

"Chap, you glutton!"

She headed for the kitchen, intending to chase the hound down, but then slid to a stop.

Sticking out along the floor from the bar's end was a small booted foot with an overturned tankard stuck on the toe. Magiere peeked around the corner.

There sat-or rather sprawled-young Vatz, an overturned bowl in his lap and a pile of scraps, garbage, and leavings all over him and the floor. He looked up at Magiere with an egg-boiling heat in his little face.

"Oh, Vatz… no," she said. "I'll get him out of the kitchen. And I promise, when I'm done with that mongrel, this will never happen again."

She was about to step over him when he growled, "No!"

Vatz looked down at the mess of himself and back up to Magiere. Mouth open, he heaved a couple of exasperated gasps in place of whatever words he couldn't get out, and then stabbed a finger toward the inn's front door.

Magiere frowned and then cringed. Vatz must have been on his way out with the garbage when Chap had bolted through.

"I see," she said, reaching down to help the boy up. "He… he must have really needed out."

Vatz swatted her hands aside, letting out an incomprehensible series of grunts and exclamations, and then violently waved her off toward the door.

"Yes, well, again, I'm sorry about this," Magiere stammered, and twisted about, muttering under her breath, "Chap, you're going to be pig's slop when I'm done with you."

Strapping on her falchion, Magiere opened the door and stepped outside.

There sat Chap in the middle of the street, staring at her, wide-eyed and ears perked.

"You!" Magiere snapped, lunging at the hound to snatch him by the scruff.

Chap darted away up the street, turned about, and sat down to look at her again. Magiere glared at him, dumbfounded.

"The alley-that way!" She pointed around the side of the inn. "Now get. And you'd better hope I don't leave you out all night."

Chap's tail slowly swept the cobblestones. He barked twice at her, wheeled about for two more hops up the street, and sat to stare at her again.

"What is wrong with you?" It took Magiere a puzzled moment to realize what the hound was up to. "No! No Leesil. Now get."

She pointed toward the alley again. Chap was immediately up on all fours, barking continuously, hopping about and turning circles.

"Quiet. Stop that." She took two steps toward him, but Chap again spun farther up the road. "I'm not going after your sot of a master. Now quiet." With that she threw up her hands in disgust and turned to go back inside. "You can stay out here the rest of the night."

When she reached for the door's latch, her fingertips barely touched it as a strange tingle ran up her spine.

Leesil? She held an image of him in mind, seated at his faro table, watching her behind the Sea Lion's bar as if she weren't aware of him.

Magiere looked back over her shoulder, as if expecting to see him. There was no one there but Chap.

Had she been too hard on Leesil? He was an irresponsible dolt, and had no idea what he was really saying this evening. But was it asking too much to let him have his way just a little? It hadn't been that long since they'd left the game, and, in his own way, he was doing his best-wasn't he? It hadn't been his idea to quit and settle, and she certainly hadn't given him much choice.

Magiere's hand hung near the door latch. She looked back at Chap waiting in the street.

"Stay," she said, and pushed the door open.

Inside, Milous was helping Vatz clean up. He gave her a disgusted glower.

"Did my partner tell you where he was going?" Magiere asked.

"He wanted someplace special," the stout innkeeper answered. "So I told him to go to the Rowanwood. Any coachman in the city can take you there."

Magiere sighed. Leave it to Leesil to choose someplace they couldn't afford.

"Thank you," she said, and stepped back out.

Chap now sat so close behind it startled Magiere.

"I told you to stay." She stepped into the street with the hound pacing beside her. "You get more like your master every day. I'd better find him, before he cheats his way into a cell at Chetnik's barracks."

She walked up the street until spotting a passing coach. Hailing it, she gave the coachman her destination while Chap climbed in and stretched across one of the seats. The ride wasn't long, and soon the coach came to a halt as the driver called out "The Rowanwood!" Magiere paid him and looked up with mounting apprehension at the elegant inn.