"And burned with acid or fire!" echoed the second. "Horrible way to die! Some bastard must pay with hands or head!"

"A good woman cut down in her prime!" came yet another voice. "One of our own venerable elders, beloved by everyone!"

"Belay that bilge!" Thinking fast, Adira couldn't decide whether to name Johan or not. Even pursuing him was dangerous, for strangers might condemn his enemies by association, and Adira hadn't yet gauged the town's loyalties. Buzzard's Bay verged on the Northern Realms, so the populace must know of Johan. The locals might loathe the tyrant or else encourage his southward conquest. Northerners had served in Johan's doomed army, and Adira had been instrumental in destroying them.

Now three begrudging loudmouths shifted position behind the crowd while trying to rouse it. Adira's anger evaporated as she smelled a trap. Why stir up trouble, unless…

"Round 'em up, Fedelm!" called a disguised voice. "Lock 'em up! We'll help corral 'em!"

"Thump "em!" urged someone unseen. "Bash their heads in! Make 'em pay for hurting Hebe!"

Adira's Circle of Seven had closed ranks around the table.

With a hand on his belted boarding axe, Virgil growled, "No one's locking me up!"

"Hush, you guppy!" snapped Adira. "Sheriff, let's step outside, free of these hecklers. We're plain innocent, but we can-What's this muck?"

Fluff like dandelion seeds floated above the crowd. People wrinkled noses, and a few sneezed as the thistledown bobbed in the air. Someone laughed.

Then came growls.

"It's not fit," carped a man who'd hitherto kept silent. "Strangers creeping into town and killing our folk!"

"Drive 'em out!" said a fishwife. "Whip 'em out of town!"

"A pox on all foreigners!" rasped a dwarf. "They don't belong in Buzzard's Bay!"

Adira and her Circle turned just as ugly and vulgar. Virgil shouted into a man's face while Simone shrilled blistering curses. Heath curdled his nose at being called "stinking baby-stealing elf-kin" by a fisherman. Peregrine tugged on her helmet only to have it slapped off. Sister Wilemina was grabbed by a braid.

The storm broke. Yelling "For Yerkoy!" Murdoch drew his broadsword and punched a man aside the head. Wilemina whipcracked her knuckles into a woman's nose. The knee-high Whistledove, fearful of being trodden, scaled a post like a monkey but was knocked off by a hurled beer mug. Simone the Siren snarled and flung mugs off the table, full or not, one, two, three. The air grew thick with flying furniture, mugs, weapons, fists, and a few people.

Adira Strongheart fought more fiercely than anyone. Gargling epithets, the pirate queen tilted on one leg like a stork and rammed her boot into the sheriff's fat gut. The man whooshed and collapsed like a punctured bladder, but his deputies waded in to swing leaded clubs at Adira. She snatched behind her back to grab her matched daggers but clutched them pommels down with the blades laid along her forearms. Quick as a cobra, she jumped at one deputy, landing inside his defenses, and hammered a dagger pommel between his eyes. Stunned and blinded, the man reeled backward, until someone jostled him into Adira. Tangled, she couldn't strike the other deputy, so instead she caught and propped the drooping deputy just as the second deputy swung. With a fearsome crunch, he walloped his companion's head. Adira leaned around the staggered man and shot out her right arm. A silver pommel bashed the deputy's jaw and clacked his teeth shut.

Yet despite her magically induced battle fury and so much noise it was impossible to think, Adira knew she'd been tricked somehow. These locals were not real enemies. Swearing, ducking to avoid flailing fists and knives, she shouted in her hurricane-besting bawl, "Seveners! Don't kill-uhh!- don't kill anyone! We're all bewitched!"

"What?" Furious but fuddled, Virgil knew enough to drop his fighting axe lest he split a skull. A blond bruiser with a doubly braided beard charged. The scruffy pirate snatched both braids and pulled as he raised his knee. Knee smashed nose, so blood gushed. Splashed with crimson, Virgil let go the squawling man and sought another victim. He found two who swung meaty fists and only dodged one. The other fist bowled him clean over a table, so he clattered amid fallen benches.

Lieutenant Peregrine had been trained to disperse crowds of surly citizens without doing harm, but since some of these bayfolk were kin, a family fight meant no holds barred. Mobbed from all sides, the officer hopped and caught a beam overhead, then drove both boots into faces. Landing in a cleared pocket, Peregrine rammed her thumbs into throats and eyes. Tipping a table, she tried to drag together a makeshift shield for Adira's crew to gather behind.

With everyone mad as wild bulls, Wilemina found her braids grabbed again and again, once so hard her neck popped with a white-hot jolt. Vowing to shave her head at first opportunity, the Calerian archer jabbed viciously with her ornate horn-and-ivory bow. She rammed a crotch and a brisket, got her hair free, then jolted the armpit of a grasping man. Braids whipping, she sought her companions and spotted Heath dodging and jabbing. Backing, she bumped rumps with the part-elf.

"Wait! It's Wilemina! I hope Adira has a plan to get us loose of these cretins!"

Heath grunted, too busy to answer.

Heeding Adira's orders, Simone whacked coastal heads with the battered cup guard of her cutlass. Two dull-witted barbarians bulled into her belly. The pirate was rammed rearward until her spine smacked the bar. Aching, with her kidneys crushed, pinned by a mountain of muscle, Simone hammered both hands on the duo to no effect. An iron-hard hand caught her wrist and cutlass and bent both cruelly against the bar to break or dislocate her arm. Cursing through gritted teeth, helpless, Simone gave up and relaxed, momentarily confusing her attacker, who fell back a hair. Instantly Simone jackknifed her knees into the air. Squirming a lopsided somersault, she skittered across the bar and tumbled behind it, wrenching her arm loose but losing her cutlass. Still, she was free. Seizing a keg slopping with ale, she hoisted it overhead, sousing herself with beer, then smashed the keg into staves and hoops over two blocky heads.

Jedit Ojanen saved Whistledove's life by brushing half a dozen coasters aside and scooping the brownie from the floor where she was in danger of being crushed under churning feet. The feisty fighter had tears of rage in her big eyes and her rapier out ready to sting. Jedit took it away and stuck it into a ceiling beam like a needle.

Above the noise, while flicking aside fists and daggers,

Jedit said, "Adira desires we not kill. Do you know why we fight at all?"

"Eh? Let me go! I want to hurt the bigfoots!"

Whistledove leaned from Jedit's arms and snagged a woman's ear to bite it. Jedit jostled her loose.

Whistledove panted, "What's wrong with you?"

Jedit asked himself the same question, not realizing he was immune to the prejudice-invoking charm blown about the room by Johan's hired agent. In fact, the tiger-man was the only being in the room not outraged. With wry bemusement he watched humans shout and mill and brawl, unsure if this was normal behavior. He decided to ask Adira for guidance, so flipped the brownie across his shoulders like a sheep, then waded through the mob.

A double drumming pricked Jedit's ears. The two centaurs galloped headlong down the room, heads ducked below the beams and heedless that they trampled fallen coasters. The dark-furred horse-men bore bruises and gashes from their scrap with the tiger not twelve hours past. Whether they were ensorcelled by the prejudice charm or just hung over didn't matter much, for they raced at Jedit with murder rimming their round black eyes. Weapons jingled from their harnesses, but they rushed with giant, four-fingered hands outstretched as if to tear the tiger between them like a chicken.