"Let me in on the big secret," said the ponytailed dwarf, his eyes shifting between Mita and Kit.

They told him they were getting ready to quit, and Paulus astonished Kit further by announcing that he would quit, too, and go along with them. And when Mita split up with Kitiara, Paulus would keep heading south with the boy. "I can't wait to see that fat buzzard's face when we tell him," grinned Paulus.

Only minutes later, all three of them got that opportunity, when they cornered Piggott and informed him they were leaving after breakfast. The beefy innkeeper flushed a dark shade of crimson and erupted in expletives. He yelled and screamed insults at them, and they hurled their own insults back. Then Piggott switched tactics and plaintively entreated them to stay, at least for a couple of days, to give him time to find new kitchen workers.

"How can you leave today?" he pleaded. "You, Mita. How will you travel? You don't have a horse!"

"I'll buy one," Mita said proudly. "I have enough money saved up to buy three or four."

"No," said Paulus grandly. "Let me buy you one, friend. I have enough money for a dozen!"

"Kit, where's your gratitude? Mita, I've been practically a father to you. Paulus-"

Their laughter cut off his futile pleading.

Piggott changed his tack again, his face taking on a sly cast. He tugged at his cauliflower ear. "I'll tell you what," he said. "I'll give you twice your normal weekly salary, if you stay for two more nights. That's all. Just to let me make some arrangements. Twice your salary. After that, no hard feelings."

Kit, Mita, and Paulus exchanged looks. That offer was too good to pass up, and, in any case, they could use the time to gather supplies and prepare for their journey.

"Done!" said Kit, offering her hand to Piggott. He took it coolly, wiped his own on his apron afterward, then brusquely told them all to get back to work.

Two days later, the night before they left, Piggott counted out two week's salary, a tidy pile of coins, into each of their outstretched palms. The disagreeable man had said almost nothing to them during their extended time, and he was not around when the trio set out early the next morning, before sunrise.

Kit felt good to be riding Cinnamon again, after all this time. She carried only the few simple things she had arrived with, her purse of earned income, and Beck's sword, which she had retrieved from its hiding place. The sword was still wrapped, but Paulus's glance indicated that he guessed that Kit was carrying some prized weapon strapped across her back.

Mita was riding a palomino he had purchased from an old forester, and Paulus was astride a small pony. Both horses were draped with bundles and bags, some of which bulged and others of which conspicuously jingled. Where Mita had squirreled all of his trove away while they were living together in the backyard shed, Kit could not figure. She realized she was gawking at her two companions.

"Saved it all up," beamed Paulus, noticing her wide-eyed stare. Mita nodded with a big grin. Kit shook her head, then spurred Cinnamon forward.

Laden so, they rode slowly. They only covered twelve or thirteen miles from Stumptown, heading roughly southwest through the low mountains and dense forests, before making an early camp for the night.

The three of them argued over who should make dinner, and Paulus-as the least likely candidate-won. To Kit and Mita's surprise, the clever dwarf cooked up a delicious frying pan meal of twice-sizzled eggs and sausage bits. The other two were amazed that Paulus had contented himself all that time at Piggott's place as a lowly dishwasher and kitchen helper, without volunteering his hidden culinary talents.

All were in a buoyant mood, laughing easily and swapping stories about themselves, as Lunitari emerged from behind a cloud. The wind shifted, a slight breeze came up, and Cinnamon whinnied. So innocent of all treachery were the trio that none of them realized anything, until Kit looked up and saw that three figures stood just outside their circle of light, waving weapons.

Immediately Kit and Paulus jumped up. "Don't move!" shouted a vaguely familiar voice. That one belonged to the largest of the three shapes and the one deepest in the darkness. Despite the moonlight, Kit could make out little about this cloaked and hooded man. At least, he had spoken in a man's voice.

One of the other two figures slid forward, waving a short sword. His hood had fallen back, revealing black hair, pointed ears, and a face painted with exotic designs. Wild elves, Kit thought to herself. She had seen very few in her time, and indeed had a prejudice against the entire elven race, believing they were not as forthright as dwarves or as innocuous as kender.

The Kagonesti with the short sword hurriedly patted each of the three travelers down. On Paulus he found a dagger and a small pegged cudgel, and, on Kit, her concealed knife. He missed the bundled sword, which Kit had taken off and lashed unobtrusively to Cinnamon, under her saddle blanket. Mita, who had risen, half-stupefied, was found to be unarmed.

Another of the brigands went to the horses, where Mita and Paulus had unloaded and stacked their accumulated wealth. He was Kagonesti, too. The two elves spoke back and forth in their own tongue, which was unknown to Kit, while the third, larger figure stood silently-nervously Kit thought-in the background.

Paulus glanced at Kit, but she shrugged, not sure what to do. Kitiara began edging backward, toward her horse.

The Kagonesti with the short sword shouted what was obviously a warning at Kit, and Mita looked over at her, alarmed. But the figure in the background called out something to the Kagonesti, in heavily accented Elvish. It sounded to Kit distinctly along the lines of, "Don't worry about her."

The Kagonesti with the sword backed toward his fellow elf, watching the three friends carefully, holding his swordpoint in front of him. Kit was able to take a few more steps backward toward Cinnamon. As the Kagonesti reached his confederate, he turned half away from the prisoners to help his fellow finish searching the saddlebags.

Kit made her move. She whirled behind Cinnamon, slid out the concealed sword, and worked desperately to take off its tight wrapping. She heard the third man-she was sure now that he was not a Kagonesti-shout something and rush forward, wielding a wicked, curved knife. Peering over the rump of her horse as she unwrapped the sword as fast as she could, Kit saw the big one lumbering toward her, followed by one of the Kagonesti. Paulus had dropped down to the dirt. Mita just stood there, mouth open, seemingly frozen in terror.

Kitiara confounded them by charging. She came at them from the other side of Cinnamon, her sword finally at the ready. There was a gasp from the big man, and he stepped back. The Kagonesti kept coming, so Kit leaped into the open, away from her horse.

As she did so, Mita seemed jolted into action, and with a keening war cry that took everybody by surprise, made a running jump. Despite his limp, he managed to land on the back of the big, hooded figure, who dropped his knife in astonishment. With his arm around the man's neck, choking him, Mita pulled off the hood, revealing none other than their fat, scabrous former employer.

"Piggott," Kit spat in disgust. She should have guessed.

His tongue was protruding, and Piggott was doing his best to whip around and throw off his assailant. But Mita was hanging on and had the good sense to use his free arm to pound the fat innkeeper's bad ear. Piggott was shouting and cursing unintelligibly.

Things happened so fast, then, that Kitiara found it hard later to reconstruct everything in her mind.

The first Kagonesti had reached her, and she was fending him off with feints and short, quick attacks with her sword. He was a capable fighter, but Kitiara's sword, unsheathed, was intimidating. It caught the moonlight and sparkled in her hand, and she could tell that the Kagonesti, although he stood his ground, was worried by it.