The back door of the Eel opened and Tycho Arisaenn stepped out, a repulsively smug look on his face. He saw Lander and smiled. "New job, Lander? It suits you."

The sound of Tycho's voice brought a chorus of happy squeals from Brin's pigs. The ones already in the sty ran across to greet him. Lander turned around just in time to see more come tumbling out of the covered shelter, woken from their afternoon nap. Suddenly they were pouring across the sty in a fat wave of swine-flesh. Lander yelped and scrambled out of their way.

His wheelbarrow wasn't so lucky. The hindquarters of one scrambling pig banged into it, setting it swaying. A second impact knocked it over and dung went spilling across the ground. Lander ground his teeth together, too angry even to curse. Tycho broke off his fond greeting of the pigs that swarmed around him to look up and smile again. "Sorry," he apologized. There wasn't a trace of sincerity in his voice. "You know how they are around me."

Tycho had sung to the pigs once. Once. It had been eerie to watch them all standing around and listening to the bard like some audience at a fancy concert. Now they acted as if he were their best friend whenever he came around. Fortunately, Lander wasn't the only one who found Tycho as annoying as an infestation of fleas. Black Scratch snorted and trumpeted loudly, trotting across the sty with his bristles up and his tail stiff. The other pigs scattered before their true king. Lander scowled at Tycho as he righted the wheelbarrow and grabbed the spade again. "I'd like to see you give that one a serenade some time," he snarled with a nod at the boar.

"Lander," said Brin, "just clean that mess up." The halfling leaped down from the table and came across to Tycho. "You're late."

"I was held up. I ran into trouble with Mard Dan-takain-not over the delivery!" he added hastily. He pulled a tin tube tied with green cord out of his coat. "I'm going to have to work out a new way to meet with Jacer-ryl, though." Brin just shrugged as he took the tube.

"That's your problem, Tycho. You move between dockside and hightown easily enough, but there are other people who can do the same. Just don't let me down; tell me I need to replace you before I find out from someone else." He turned and started back to the table. "You can collect at the bar as usual on the way out. Four gold. I don't like late deliveries."

Lander flashed a grin at Tycho as the bard's face twisted. Tycho caught the grin and scowled at him. "Keep shoveling, Lander," he hissed. Lander flicked a bit of manure at him. Tycho dodged it neatly and took a few steps farther into the sty. "Brin," he said, "I was wondering if you could do me a favor."

"I don't do favors," Brin replied, tugging on the cord around the tube. "They cost too much." He turned around and looked up. "Ton asked me for a favor once. I think you knew him. Shame about him and Ardo, isn't it?"

Lander was pleased to see Tycho stiffen. The curly-haired man managed to keep his voice level, though. "It's not about coin. It will only take a bit of your time-a little storytelling, really."

"You're the storyteller here." Brin dropped the cord to the mucky floor of the sty and pulled out the cork that sealed the tube. "Why do you want me to tell you a story? " His fingers dipped into the tube and drew out a piece of silk.

"Not me," said Tycho as Brin flicked back the folds of silk. "There's-"

The silence that fell between the halfling and the bard was solid like a wall. Both seemed frozen, staring down at the silk in Brin's hand. Lander dropped his spade and crossed the sty with two long steps to look as well.

Lying on the silk were half a dozen pieces of ordinary white gravel.

"Oh, bind me," Tycho whispered in horror. "Bind me, bind me, bind me "

"Where are my beljurils?"bowled Brin. All around him, pigs squealed and ran. Even Brin flinched away. Tycho turned pale and stumbled back. Brin lunged after him, flinging away the tin tube and jumping up to grab a fistful of Tycho's coat front. It should have been a ludicrous sight-the tiny halfling raging at a human who was almost twice his size. Somehow, though, it wasn't. Brin's weight dragged on Tycho, forcing him to bend almost double. Suddenly Black Scratch was there as well, snorting and scraping his hooves through the muck. Other pigs were closing in, too, following the boar's example and turning on their one-time friend. Lander stayed well back.

"They were there, Brin!" Tycho insisted. "They were there, I swear it!"

Brin's hand twisted the silk closed around the gravel and drove the bundle straight into Tycho's face. "Do those feel like beljurils to you?" he screamed. He hit Tycho again. "Do they?"

Tycho tried to reach forward and tear Brin away. The halfling just swung himself up off the ground and planted a foot hard in Tycho's gut, dropping down again as he staggered back, gagging and gasping for air. "Where are they?" Brin screamed.

"I don't know!" choked Tycho. He tried to scramble back to his feet, but Black Scratch was right there. Tycho sank into a crouch, eyes on a level with Brin's. "Bind me, Brin, I don't know. They were there. In the tube. I checked them with Jacerryl when he passed them to me. He can tell you that." His tongue licked out, smearing blood on his lips. "In the jail. Someone must have taken them while I was in jail."

"You were in jail?"

"I told you, there was trouble with Mard Dantakain!" TVcho shouted back. He was trembling. "I've been in the middle town jail for most of the day! Brin, you know I wouldn't try to cheat you!"

"I have buyers waiting for those beljurils." Brin stalked forward. His hand snapped out and closed on Tycho's chin, pulling the bard forward so they were nose to nose amid the snorting pigs. "You lost them. You find them."

Tycho swallowed. "Brin-"

"Can you pay for them? " Brin searched Tycho's eyes. "I don't think so. I can't even sell you to slavers for the price of those gems. Find them. You've got until noon tomorrow." He leaned back and forced Tycho's head around until he was staring into Black Scratch's yellow gaze. The boar huffed and long strands of foamy saliva sprayed across Tycho's face. "If you don't have the gems back, I'll take up Lander's suggestion and let you try a serenade on Black Scratch." Brin leaned in close again. "I should warn you that he doesn't have much of an ear for music."

He thrust Tycho away and the bard went sprawling back across the sty. For a moment, he just stared at Brin in panic then he twisted to his feet and scrambled for the door back into the Eel. "Through the alley!" Brin spat at him. "Through the alley!" It was too late-Tycho was already through the door and running through the Eel. Over the noise of the pigs, Lander caught the shouts and exclamations from inside as he fled.

"Bugger," grumbled Brin. He turned around and flung the bundle of gravel hard against the nearest wall. Pigs squealed and darted away from the splinters of rock that came spraying out of it. "Lander! Are you done yet?"

Lander jumped for his abandoned spade. "Almost, Brin!"

"Leave it. Get back out there and find me Kuang Li Chien. Alive or dead, he has to be somewhere. And while you're out, find Desmada and see what she knows about Tycho being in jail." Lander blinked at the command and dropped his spade again, reaching instead for his shirt, mantle, and the curved saber. Brin rubbed Black Scratch behind the ears. "I don't like having this many loose ends floating around. They tend to get tangled up."

"Sir," said Giras the fence in an offended voice. "Are you trying to ruin me?" He flicked a finger at one of the gold coins Li had laid on the shop counter. "Such fine quality work as the items you request is not easily come by. And so exotic!"