in a narrow and long triangular face. The man's skin was a darker tan than Leesil's, but with a perfect complexion akin to his mother's. Standing with Karlin was a full-blooded elf.

Magiere had mentioned Loni, so Leesil knew one of his mother's people lived in Miiska, but he'd never felt the need to seek out this person. His own mother never saw fit to teach him anything of her people, even their language. The elves were reclusive, not generally mixing with the other races, which itself made Leesil's own heritage an oddity.

Since Loni ran the Velvet Rose, Miiska's most expensive inn, he had little call to visit a common folk's tavern like the Sea Lion. So why was he here, and with Karlin of all people? Leesil held his place, halfway to his faro table, where sailors nearby eyed the cards. He watched Karlin lean over the bar's end to catch Magiere's attention.

Magiere hurried down the bar's backside with a slight smile. The baker spoke briefly, perhaps discussing the tedious tax issue, and Leesil felt suddenly annoyed. Why did so many people dwell on such things? It would be handled soon enough.

Loni, the elf, tapped Karlin on the shoulder and, with a serious look, tilted his head toward Magiere. Karlin reached into his vest, withdrew a piece of rolled parchment, and handed it to her. She frowned in confusion, then unrolled it and began reading.

Magiere's mild moment of happiness melted from her pale features.

Brows knitted in puzzlement, and then her eyes widened. When she lifted her gaze to Karlin, the clench of her jaw was plain to Leesil from across the room. The elf spoke, and Magiere threw the parchment at his chest as she began shouting. Several patrons at the bar shifted away toward the kitchen side as Leesil quickly pushed his way back across the crowded room.

He couldn't make out what she said, but he did catch "bastard," and some Stravinan term that sounded worse. Chap had somehow wormed through the room and beaten Leesil to the bar. The dog growled at Karlin and Loni— mostly at the elf, for Chap was as fond of the baker as anyone else living at the Sea Lion. Background noise began to fade as more and more people turned their heads toward Magiere's raised voice. Leesil planted one hand on the bar, vaulted to the backside, and caught her arm.

"Quiet, you dragon," he whispered playfully. "You're frightening the peasants."

Her pale skin was flushed, and the glare she returned made him think better of any further jest. She moved back from Karlin and Loni, and closer to him.

"Leesil, get them out of here… or I'll do it my way!"

Leesil abandoned any further thought of disarming the situation through humor, and slipped around Magiere between her and the end of the bar.

"Into the kitchen," he said softly, and then looked over his shoulder. "Karlin, you come now."

Leesil steered Magiere down the bar toward the kitchen's curtained doorway. He was thankful she didn't resist. She did, however, pull away from him and nearly rip the curtains off their rod as she swatted them aside on her way through. Leesil hurried after her.

"What's wrong?" he asked. He pulled a stool to the kitchen table and literally pushed her down to sit on it. When he did, he felt her shoulders shaking with tension. "This can't be about back taxes?"

The curtain pulled aside and Karlin entered, followed by Loni. The baker looked stricken and shamed, a troubling contrast to his cheerful nature. The elf stared at all of them, attentive and watchful but otherwise expressionless.

"You could just say no, Magiere," Loni said. "This drama is unnecessary."

"Get out," she answered with enough hatred that Leesil balked at her tone.

"And then what, send the offer back?" Loni tossed the parchment on the table in front of her. "You know this money could rebuild the old warehouse, this time to be operated as community property. More merchants working the coastal route would once again stop here. Commerce would flourish instead of wither. Dockworkers could earn a decent wage, forcing Master Poyesk and his like to pay well or close up. Outlying farmers and local crafters could collectively wholesale their goods once again."

"What is going on?" Leesil demanded, lost amid the argument.

Karlin stood in helpless silence.

"I can't believe you'd ask this of me," Magiere whispered.

Her gaze locked on Loni. She wrapped one hand on the table's edge, as if bracing for a lunge, her whole body tensed.

Leesil quickly stepped into