Laera squeezed herself into a tiny, trembling knot.

Word that there were mages holed up at the Eel must have gotten around, Lander thought. Mid-afternoon and the festhall was barely half as full as usual. Just the whiff of serious magery was enough to keep most folk away and to set those who did come in on edge with suspicion. And Lander, by virtue of being the mages' keeper, had become suspect, too. Customers gave him a wide berth as he walked carefully across the floor of the Eel and back once more to the Blue Room, a foaming tankard of ale in one hand, a tiny eggcup-sized glass of strong Chessentan wine in the other.

Mosi Anu and Hanibaz Nassor didn't even look up as he nudged the door open. They had stopped looking up some time ago. Mosi was deep in reading a scroll; the tiny glass of wine his first indulgence in Brin's invitation to take advantage of the Eel's facilities. Hanibaz, on the other hand, had indulged freely. The ale Lander carried was his fourth, the skeletal remains of a whole roast chicken lay picked clean in front of him, and not so long ago Lander had been obliged to summon one of the women who worked in the festhall's pleasure rooms to administer a Mulhorandi massage to the hefty mage. Hanibaz slouched in his chair like a great rotund cat: feet propped up on a second chair, relaxed, half-asleep, and reeking of warm, exotic oils. Lander set the fresh ale beside him and the wine beside Mosi and quickly turned to go.

He wasn't quite quick enough. "When will Brin return with the Yellow Silk?" asked Mosi. He didn't look up from his scroll.

"Soon," Lander responded, adding silently, I hope!

"My patience grows thin."

"You grow thin, Mosi," said Hanibaz. The big man stirred himself and sat up. "Have something to eat. Or try a massage. Or take some ale instead of that vile wine." He groped for his tankard and raised it to his rival. "That will put hair on your chest!"

"I don't want hair on my chest, you hirsute ogre."

Lander looked from one wizard to the other and tried to back out of the room as discretely as he could. Hanibaz's eyes caught him first, however. "Friend Lander, a question for you. Is what Brin told us of the Yellow Silk of Kuang true?"

No spell that Lander could sense backed up the question or demanded a truthful answer. It was better not to try. cheating a mage, though, a Red Wizard especially. "What I know of it is," he said carefully. "Last night I saw bolts of bright light that exploded with enough heat to melt snow and set wood smoldering. I think I caught a glimpse of a man I'd swear was no mage hurling them."

"And yet Brin knows all about the Silk," murmured Hanibaz.

"Or claims to." Mosi set his scroll aside. Lander expected it to snap back into a curl, but the roll of parchment stayed open as if held by invisible hands. Mosi turned a piercing gaze on him. "How does a one-eyed hin, a former pirate, learn so much about such an exotic artifact? Brin strikes me as an unlikely student of eastern mageries."

"Especially considering," added Hanibaz thoughtfully, "that according to his own story, the Yellow Silk has been something of a well-guarded secret for centuries."

Lander swallowed. "I don't know," he answered. "I hadn't even heard him mention it until last night and I only heard its story when Brin told it to you." He took a quick step toward the door and groped behind his back for the handle. "I'll ask him for you when he returns!"

His fingers found the handle. He twisted it and ducked through the door before the wizards could ask anything else, all but slamming it behind him. Every eye in the Eel turned to stare at him. Lander glared back and gave a growl. "Mind your own lines, gutgrinders!" He stalked over to the bar and slapped his hand down. The bartender put a mug of ale in front of him quickly.

A door opened and he caught the squealing of pigs. Grabbing his mug, Lander hurried to the back of the festhall. Brin was just pulling closed the curtains of the gambling room. "Nobody goes in there," he said.

"Hanibaz and Mosi are getting impatient. Do you have the Yellow Silk?"

Brin pulled him out through the back door and into the pigsty. Black Scratch looked up from kicking at straw and snorted at Lander. The thug glowered back at him. "They'll just have to wait a little longer," said Brin. He grabbed Lander's mug out of his hand and gulped at it as he walked across the sty to jump up on his table. "Everything's taken care of. Everything's in motion."

"Everything?" Lander gave Brin a cautious look. "What everything?"

"Don't think about it. The Yellow Silk will be coming to us." He drained the mug and thumped it down on the tabletop. "I sent the man I left watching the building in Bakers Way off to find your men and as many others as he can gather up."

"Who's watching Tycho's rooms, then?"

Brin smiled. "They don't need watching anymore. I told you, everything's in motion. The only thing I need you to do is clear out the Eel once the men get here." Lander hissed in surprise. Brin shrugged. "Don't worry, we'll be open again before the moon comes up."

"You're expecting a fight."

"Bitch Queen's mercy, I hope so." The halfling's smile turned savage.

The door to the Eel swung open. Jacerryl Dantakain stood framed in the doorway, leaning on it for support. He looked bad. His usually well-dressed hair looked like it had been combed into position with his fingers, his clothes were streaked with muck, and his face was marked with some very colorful bruises. When he pushed himself off the door frame, he staggered. "Brin!" he gasped. "We need to talk!"

Lander started forward, but Brin grabbed his arm and gave a quick shake of his head. "Just go close the door," he said. Lander blinked, but nodded. As he pushed past Jacerryl, he could smell wine even over the stink of the sty. The man's stagger wasn't due to any injury.

"What is it, Jacerryl?" Brin asked mildly. Jacerryl wobbled a little closer to him.

"It's Tycho," he said. "He's gone bad-him and that Shou friend of his. They attacked me!"

"Why would they do that?"

"It's your beljurils. I heard that Tycho tried to cheat you out of them yesterday but that you gave him time to give them back. The next thing I knew, though, I heard from a friend that he was putting out word that / had stolen the beljurils!"

Last night at the Ease, Tycho had said something about

Jacerryl, but Brin had been so intent on Li Chien Lander caught Brin's gaze. The halfling's eye just narrowed and he shook his head at him. To Jacerryl, he said, "Did you?"

"On Tyr's holy balance, no!" Jacerryl gave a shiver. "You know I'd never cheat you, Brin! As soon as I heard what Tycho was saying, I went out looking for him."

"And you found him."

Jacerryl nodded enthusiastically. "Bind me, I found him! I confronted him but he had his Shou beat me up!"

"Did he have his Shou get you drunk, too?"

Jacerryl gaped and whined in protest, but Brin just gave him a hard snarl. Jacerryl shut his mouth. Brin glared at him. "It takes a brave man to come to me just to claim innocence. Why not go to your brother?"

"If I went to Mard, I'd have to tell him why I'd gone looking for Tycho in the first place. He'd have thrown me out of his house if he didn't throw me into a guard station jail!"

"So you went and drank until you decided it was better to come to me."

Jacerryl shook his head. "Just one glass, Brin! Just one! It's not like you're an easy man to talk to!" A grasping edge of desperation crept into his voice. "I know what Tycho did with the beljurils-what he was going to do anyway. I heard him and the Shou talking about it."

"That was clumsy of them." Brin put his elbow on his knee and rested his chin in the palm of his hand. His eye was a hard black gem focused on Jacerryl. The man swallowed.