your desire, then you must not only defend yourselves, you must help us carry out an attack that will finish this once and for all. I have a plan, but it's useless until I know there are enough people here with the courage to help me carry it out. I need to know first if you'll help yourselves."
He couldn't imagine what Magiere was thinking, as he was hardly playing the role of her drunken partner these days and now sounded more like some world-weary military commander.
"I'll help," Karlin said instantly.
"Me too," said Geoffry.
But the rest of the crowd spoke in low voices to each other or just muttered in discomfort. Whatever their expectations for this meeting, being asked to battle vampires wasn't on the list.
Leesil did not expect to win them easily, and he was about to speak again when the door to the common room burst open. The man who stumbled through it looked vaguely familiar, and then Leesil realized it was one of the guards who'd arrested Brenden that very first night the blacksmith came to the tavern to question Ellinwood. In fact, it was the guard who had tied Brenden's hands behind his back. He was panting hysterically, and his eyes were wild.
"Darien, what's wrong?" a young fisherwife asked, jumping to her feet and running to him.
"Korina's dead," he breathed. "I stood watch all night at the guard house. When I got home, I found her outside our window… Her throat's torn open."
He stopped talking and began to sob without sound.
"Who's Korina?" Leesil asked, even though the question hardly mattered.
"His wife," Karlin said flatly. "They'd only been married since winter."
Gripping the table before him, Leesil somehow managed to stand.
"These creatures are growing bolder. Magiere and I can't do this alone."
Several dockworkers crowded in around Karlin. Not pleased but resigned, one of them said, "Tell us what to do."
* * *
Sometime before sunset, Magiere stood in the street outside of The Velvet Rose, hesitant to go inside. She would rather have fought Rashed ten times than ask Welstiel for help again, but too many people depended on her now.
The lovely brocade curtains and white shutters seemed a travesty now. This pretty facade seemed to reinforce the notion that Miiska was safe and no unnatural beasts dug tunnels beneath it or fed on its people at night.
No one who lived here would think of helping her destroy vampires, much less admit the truth… except for Welstiel. But how much help was he? She'd grown tired of his cryptic advice by their second meeting. She needed specific information regarding the weaknesses of her enemies. Perhaps she never expected Leesil to win help from the common folk of Miiska. Though not exactly eloquent, his words were powerful and direct and convincing. He'd almost made her believe that part about him serving a warlord.
"Well, he's done it now," she said aloud to herself.
Back at The Sea Lion, he was overseeing preparations for an attack. Such work was his domain, although she had no idea how he managed to stay on his feet. Her task was more personal, more private. She required more information about herself and about finding an effective method to destroy Rashed.
In addition, she needed more help than a few untrained shopkeepers and laborers could offer, and sitting at a desk just inside the door of The Velvet Rose was someone she'd like on her side.
Loni, the handsome elven proprietor, raised his head as she entered and stunned her with an expression of relief.
"Magiere," he said instantly as if she were an acquaintance. "Master Welstiel is expecting you. Please come this way."
She stopped. "He's expecting me?"
"Yes, yes, he's asked about your arrival several times," he answered in near annoyance, as if any delay was too much. "Please follow me."
When he stood up, she noticed he was about the same height and build as her. He wore a plain, but well-made, white cotton shirt and a thick pair of black breeches. He seemed most eager to assist her and bring her down to Welstiel. Since he was being so obliging, a thought occurred.
"Loni, may I borrow some clothes?" she asked tiredly. "If you wish, I'll pay for them."
There was no time for a tailor, and she couldn't fight Rashed in this dress. Expecting Loni to give her a befuddled stare, she silently thanked him as he merely glanced up and down at her tattered clothing in comprehension.
"Of course," he said. "I'll have them ready before you leave."
He knew what was happening,