slip a stiletto into his palm. Now that she knew where and how he'd learned such things, the movement sent a chill up her spine. He got up, cracked the door, and then opened it all the way.

Standing in the hall was the gray-robed young woman who'd addressed Leesil in the corridor of the council hall. She was small, with a long brown braid hanging forward across her shoulder.

"Excuse me for this early intrusion," she said. She had a soft, almost guttural accent to her voice that Magiere couldn't place. "My master sent me to speak with you."

"Who are you?" Magiere asked.

"I am Wynn Hygeorht, apprentice in the Guild of Sage-craft under Domin Tilswith, my teacher and head of our branch here. We reside in the old guard barracks of the inner ring. The domin was playing Hounds and Foxes with Councilman Lanjov last night when word of the disturbance at the Rowanwood reached them."

"Well, that was quick," Leesil mumbled, and he stepped back to allow her in. "Thought we might at least make it through breakfast before anyone caught up with us. So who brought word? The city guard?"

"Yes," she answered. Her attention was diverted by Chap's sleeping form. When she saw the water bowl and rag, her expression became instantly concerned. "Is your dog ill?"

"A thump on the head, but he'll be all right," Leesil said.

"I might be able to help. We have medicines of many types at the guild."

She knelt down next to the bed, eyeing Chap curiously, and then put her hand out. Leesil was about to stop her, when Chap opened his eyes, lifted his muzzle, and lapped her fingers once before settling himself again. Wynn took her hand back with a smile.

"He appears well enough," she said. Her brow wrinkled slightly as her smile faded, and she stood up to face Leesil again. "The day in the council hall, when I… spoke to you…"

She appeared embarrassed and briefly dropped her eyes before returning her gaze to Leesil's tan face.

Magiere felt a sudden flare of ire again. How many strange women were going to fawn over Leesil before they got out of this cursed city?

"I was surprised that you do not speak Elvish," Wynn said. "One of your parents was of that race, yes?"

"I was never taught," he answered flatly.

Again Wynn appeared embarrassed, and then confused.

"I see. I was only commenting on how beautiful your dog was and wondering what breed, as I have never seen his like before."

Leesil merely shrugged. "My mother gave him to me when I was boy and he was just a pup."

"You mother, she was your elvish parent?" Wynn asked.

"Yes." Leesil leaned down and stroked Chap's back. "He's probably just a mutt of some kind. We mixed-breeds tend to be the smartest."

Chap rolled his head at Leesil's touch, shifting for comfort on the bed.

"There was this loon of a man in Miiksa," Leesil added, "who called him a majay-hi."

Wynn's head tilted. "Majay-hi?" she asked, the word smoother and more rolling than Leesil's pronunciation.

"Yes, that sounds about right."

"Perhaps a colloquial reference or a regional nickname for the breed." She shook her head in what appeared to be quaint amusement. "In the Elvish dialect that I know, it might mean something like ‘fay hound' or ‘hound of the elementals,' though I have never seen his kind before. He seems a very amiable creature."

"You don't have to hunt with him," Magiere said under her breath. "Now, what was Lanjov's reaction to what he heard?"

The barest hint of disapproval surfaced on Wynn's face as she looked at Magiere.

"Councilman Lanjov was quite upset. He seems to think the creature that killed his daughter is to be found among the common folk and cannot understand why you keep plaguing respected members of society."

Magiere rose and sighed. "Did he mention dismissing us?"

"I do not recall this," Wynn answered. "But my domin was interested in the event. A woman dressed in silk"—she faltered, and swallowed hard—"speared a house guard through the throat with only her fingers. And your dog was reported as turning savage toward the woman and frightening the patrons. Then all of you pursued her into the back alley."

Magiere grew more uncertain as to what this young woman wanted.

"Do you believe in undeads?" she asked.

"I've read of such," Wynn answered politely, "though only in my homeland's legends. Having heard Councilman Lanjov's story, I looked into what little I could find of this land's folklore, though we have yet to begin setting up a proper library and