"I already have!"

Laera, however, wasn't so easily fooled. As soon as they crossed the threshold, her eyes fell on the blanket-shrouded form sprawled out on the floor. A short shriek escaped her and she stiffened. "Veseene?"

Tycho hesitated then drew her over and uncovered Jacerryl's face. Laera shuddered and looked away. "What happened?"

"Brin killed him."

Li had set the couch back on its legs. Tycho sat Laera down and tried to find a little pot of ointment that had been in the cupboard. When he did, the jar was cracked. He split it open the rest of the way, scooped some out on his fingertip, and rubbed it gently into Laera's right hand.

She watched him without saying anything for a moment then she asked, "Brin has Veseene, doesn't he?" Tycho nodded. "Did you get back the beljurils?" He nodded again. "Then everything will be fine, won't it?n

Tycho looked to Li. The Shou was prowling around the room, poking through the wreckage as if there might be something else to find, some other clue to what had happened, lycho couldn't imagine that there would be. Abard's life was built on subtlety, but he felt like Brin had taken all of his and beaten it to the ground with a great big stick. He looked back to Laera. "No," he said bluntly. "It won't. Brin is holding Veseene hostage for Li's Yellow Silk."

Laera's big brown eyes flicked up. For a heartbeat, Tycho felt as if she were looking right through him and trying to see something larger, and then she tipped her head to one side. "You're going to give it to him, get Veseene away, then steal back the Silk." Tycho looked away, scooping up more ointment and spreading it on her left palm. She tensed slightly. "You're going to help Veseene escape so Brin never even sees the Silk."

Tycho's fingers moved up hers, smoothing the ointment onto her rope-burned skin. Laera sucked in a sharp breath. "You're… you're just going to give it to him?"

He said nothing.

"Bind you, Tychoben Arisaenn, you can't not give it to him!"

"It's not mine to give," Tycho whispered. "I can't even ask for that." He looked up. "Did Veseene tell you the story about Dain Gallidy and Eiter the Nar?" Laera nodded stiffly. "I thought so. Two days ago, you wouldn't have even thought of any possibility beyond a heroic triumph."

He let her hand go and looked at her closely. "If we get through this," he said, "I'll take you as my apprentice." Her eyes went wide. Tycho held up a cautioning finger. "But," he said, "I want you to go home. Right now. Whatever we do, it's going to be dangerous. We might very well not come back. If you're in your father's house, you'll be safe."

Laera held her head high. "Uncle Jacerryl lived in my father's house."

"And if you hurry back, you can claim some of his things before anyone's the wiser. I'll send you a message when it's safe." Tycho rose and started to pull her up.

She stayed right where she was, her jaw set and her eyes defiant. "If you're going to rescue Veseene, I want to go with you." She tugged her hand out of Tycho's. "If you're not going to rescue her, I don't want to be your apprentice."

"Laera…" Tycho growled.

Li's hand clapped him on the shoulder. The Shou's expression was grim. "Do you really want an apprentice who runs at the first sign of danger, Tycho?" He looked at Laera. "Will you slow us down?" he asked. "If you're captured, will we need to fight for you?" Laera's eyes darted from the Shou's hard face to Tycho's and back again. She swallowed.

"No," she said.

"Then I say you should come with us." He looked at Tycho.

The bard sighed and pressed his knuckles against his forehead. "All right," he said through gritted teeth-and glanced up sharply. "Wait-come with us where?" he asked.

"To make a delivery to Brin." Li opened his shirt and shook his left arm out of its sleeve. With his right hand, he loosened the knot that bound the Yellow Silk around his arm and pulled it free. Light shimmered as the folds of the silk fell apart; where the light played across his face, Tycho could feel the warmth of a summer's day.

The Shou held the Yellow Silk out to him.

Tycho stared at it. "Li," he breathed, "I can't-"

"-ask me for this? " Li's lips curled ever so slightly into a smile. "When you're in a small room, even a whisper is a shout." His hand didn't waver. "You don't need to ask. Yu Mao disgraced the name of Kuang. It's my duty to return honor to it."

"But this…" Tycho hesitated. "Yesterday, you asked me for help. I feel like you're doing more to help me."

"If that bothers you, I'll say that I'm doing it for Ve-seene. Or that I'm doing it for myself-I still need to ask Brin about Yu Mao's last days."

"If he'll talk to you without trying to capture you."

Li shrugged. "A chance I have to take. With luck, his answer will be that the captain's curse came to pass and Yu Mao lies with the Sow under the sea." He met Tycho's gaze with quiet calm. "Better me than a stranger; better me than no one at all-but better still that Yu Mao has already stood before the Lords of Karma and received their judgment. Thank you for giving me the chance to realize that."

He reached out and grabbed Tycho's hand, thrusting the Silk into it and folding his fingers around it. Tycho almost gasped-the Yellow Silk was warm! Just holding it, he could feel the energy within the woven threads, at once both as gentle and as intense as the sun itself, the pride of an old and honest family. He looked down at the precious, wondrous artifact in his hand-and up, a fierce smile on his face.

"Bind me," he said, "I've had just about enough of Brin. He's not going to get his hands on this and he's not going to get away with threatening Veseene." He turned around and reached up above the fireplace with his free hand to pull down his strilling. "If he wants a song, he's got one."

Sunset raked across the west end of Spandeliyon's waterfront, lending warmth to the light if not to the air. The snow might be melting, but it was still cold enough that every exhaled breath produced a little cloud of vapor and every inhaled breath sank a chill into Li's nose and throat.

He said nothing as they-he, Tycho, and Laera-walked. The streets were empty, as empty as they had been two nights ago when he first arrived. Then, however, they had been empty because of the hour and the beginning of a snow flurry. Now they were empty because of a storm of a different kind: the fire at the Wench's Ease had drawn everyone who might otherwise be on the street to either fight the blaze or watch it. Thick smoke still reached into the sky, though it had gotten no thicker and the biting smell of it no stronger. The fire was slowly coming under control.

If Brin had planned the fire to get everyone off the streets as well as bring Tycho running to the scene, he couldn't have done a better job. The streets were so quiet that Li could hear the waves seething against the docks a short distance away.

As they approached the Eel, Laera stared at the sinuous form on the festhall's wall and shivered. Li touched her shoulder. "That's only a painting," he reminded her. "Don't be afraid of it. Be afraid of what we'll face."

She gulped. Tycho glowered at him.

"No more reassuring talks, Li. I don't think they're helping." The bard checked the strilling on his back and the dagger at his belt and glanced from Li to Laera. "Ready?"

Laera nodded. Li nodded, too. His fingers curled and uncurled around the scabbard of his dao. Tycho shoved against the Eel's painted door.

To Li's surprise, the Eel was as quiet within as the street without. No desperate drunkards, no brass-clad women, no sorrowful gamblers. The place had been cleared out entirely. There wasn't even any sign of Brin-not that the hin's absence came as that much of a surprise. Tycho had reasoned everything out before they left Bakers Lane. Brin will wait for us in the sty behind the Eel. It's where he always does his business.