My habitual discomfort at being the center of attention, which I’d necessarily made a lot of progress in overcoming, was returning in full force, especially when the applause and scattered shouts and wolf whistles broke out.

“I thought you said this put me off limits,” I said to Karl, through a jaw that was barely mobile.

“It does,” Karl said. “The applause is for Ian. Take a bow, lad.”

Ian did.

Once that formality had been observed, most of the attention passed, though a lot of the human guys in tabards were still staring at me. I guessed they had been the ones shouting and whistling.

I was surprised at the number of human females there, and also by the amount and variety of nudity among them. While over half of them were fully dressed, some of the girls were topless, or at least down to their bras. I saw at least one who was completely naked. I was used to seeing mermaids and nymphs, but the sight of a fully human girl hanging out like that was a little startling.

“What do you think?” Karl asked, gesturing expansively around the room.

I didn’t say anything. Aside from being filled up with dwarves and not, say, bones, the chamber was probably more Steff’s sort of place than mine. There was something distinctly sepulchral about the high vaulted ceiling and the grotesque carved faces. The stones became progressively darker the higher they climbed, and not just because they were further away from the light… greasy soot clung to them. There were spills everywhere, and in point of fact, there were bones… tiny little ribcages and drumsticks.

The big black ravens flying around overhead didn’t help the gloominess or cleanliness either, and they reminded me uncomfortably of the monstrous crows from the cursed farm.

“Awesome,” Ian said.

“You should have seen the place before Ms. Willikins m… asked us to start cleaning up after ourselves,” Karl said. “It used to be a dump. There’s roast boar and fowl.” He gestured to the dark shapes turning over glowing red coals. “And mead and ale, and just about anything else you’d want to drink. Just ask anybody if you want something in particular. Swimming hole and spring rooms are downstairs.” He pointed at one of the side passages leading off from the circular chamber. “If you stay late, guest lodgings are available anywhere that people aren’t standing.”

“Thanks, but I really don’t think we’re going to be here that long,” I said.

My eyes were stinging from the smoke, and the air inside the dwarves’ hall wasn’t really warmer so much as it was more unevenly heated. It was pleasantly warm though smoky near the fires but there was an icy chill rolling out from the center of the room, and the areas in between were… in between.

“Suit yourselves. I have to go greet my clan brothers,” Karl said. “Would you like me to introduce you around?”

“I think we’ll just mingle on our own,” I said quickly. I didn’t really want to “mingle” at all, until I got my bearings a little bit better, and I certainly didn’t want to be led around the room and presented while I was still chained.

Ian led me by the arm down the sloping floor towards the center of the room, away from the heat and towards the source of the horrible cold. There was a fenced off hole in the middle of the room, looking down on an underground lake in which several dwarves frolicked and splashed along with Feejee, unmistakable with her masses of gold jewelry, and another mermaid that I thought was the scarlet-haired Iona.

I’d seen Feejee in her natural state before, but never in motion. There was something eerie and hypnotic about watching the way she and Iona propelled themselves back and forth. The lower chamber was much larger than the opening, so they glided and undulated in and out of view. I watched them pass each other several times, sometimes slipping right past each other and other times rolling over and kind of spiraling around each other.

I wondered how mermaid… merfolk, rather… had sex.

Then I wondered how mermaids did.

I couldn’t really imagine anything more intimate or beautiful than the aquatic ballet that was unfolding beneath me.

I realized I was staring at a pair of nude female beings in the presence of my oh-so-patient boyfriend, but then I tore my gaze away from the sight below and saw that he was as awestruck as I was.

Feejee happened to roll over at the right moment and noticed me looking down. She stopped and waved. I reflexively tried to return the gesture and ended up wrenching myself around in place.

“Come on down!” she yelled.

“Maybe later,” I called back, though I didn’t think that likely. The water had to be freezing, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone swimming, even without my hands bound with heavy metal weights.

I was also a little iffy about whether or not I could drown. I needed to breathe, as far as I could tell, but I didn’t think I could breathe water. But, I couldn’t be harmed by non-magical means. Where did that leave me?

I had a theory that I’d pass out but not actually die. I wasn’t in a big huge hurry to test it.

“You don’t want to go down and say hello?” Ian asked.

“There’s naked dwarves down there, too,” I pointed out.

“I just meant… she’s your friend.”

“Kind of,” I said. “She hangs out with some real bitches.”

“You want something to drink?” Ian asked.

“Maybe later,” I said.

“Oh.”

“It’s okay if you get something,” I said.

“Maybe in a bit.”

“Hey,” Ian said, tugging on my elbow. “Look… cuffs.”

I turned and saw him pointing across the gap at another girl. She had her shirt pulled off, though it was stuck down over the ends of her arms. She had a knot of boys around her. We probably wouldn’t have been able to see her at all except she was backed up against the gap.

“Don’t point,” I said.

“It’s not like she’s facing us,” Ian said.

“It’s rude, anyway,” I said. “Anyway, it doesn’t look like the chains are working.”

“They look pretty secure to me,” Ian said.

“I mean, at keeping the guys off her,” I said. One of them had a bottle of beer and was “feeding” the girl sips, but was holding the bottle up high and making her stretch up for it, tipping the neck down to meet her lips. This resulted in most of it going down the front of her. “Can you believe those guys? Can you believe her?”

“She’s gonna get her teeth knocked out if they’re not careful,” Ian said.

“I’m so glad you’re not a frat boy,” I said.

“Yeah, well,” he said. “I wouldn’t even think about pledging my first year.”

I looked at him to see if he was joking. It didn’t look like it.

“What, you mean, you’d think about pledging ever?” I asked.

He gave me a dirty look.

“What?” I asked.

“Tolerance isn’t just for lesbians and kobolds, you know,” he said.

“Oh, please,” I said. “Frat guys aren’t an oppressed minority.”

“No, but that doesn’t mean you can act like they’re all idiots,” Ian said. “Look, one of the reasons you go to college is to meet new people and make friends, right?”

“I have friends,” I said.

“People on your floor,” Ian said. “It’s hard to meet ‘new people’ like that after about a week. Anyway, what about networking?”

“Oh, right,” I said. “Like your dad, the Crimson Tonguer.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my dad.”

“I didn’t say there was!” I said.

“You know, why don’t you just wait here for a minute?” he said.

“Why, where are you going?” I asked.

“I’m going to go talk to the Badgers,” he said. “Unless you’d like to come along?”

“No, but…”

“Wait here, then.”

“Wait!” I said, but he didn’t, and I didn’t feel like shouting after him across a crowded room. Not while I was chained up.

“Hey there, Mack,” Hazel said at my side.

Her sudden appearance startled me.

I started to lose my balance, and wrenched myself to the side so that I’d hit the floor instead of going over the edge.

“Whoops,” Hazel said. “Didn’t mean to sneak up like that.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “Help me up, okay?”

“Yeah, that’s going to work really well,” Hazel said. She gave an ear-splitting whistle. Andreas hurried over. “Give Mack a hand, won’t you?” she said.

“Yes, dear,” he said, and helped pull me up. Given that I couldn’t use my arms and was taller than he was, it was kind of like being molded into the shape of somebody standing up.

“Why don’t you go get us some of that chicken,” Hazel said. “Breasts or thighs, Mack?”

“Uh, breast,” I said.

“I’ll be right back, ladies,” Andreas said.

“Karl said something about dwarven relationships being power struggles,” I said as Andreas hurried towards one of the roasting pits.

“Oh, yeah, we did that bit,” Hazel said. “Turns out I won.” She gave me an appraising grin. “Guess I don’t have to ask where you came in with Ian.”

“This was my choice,” I said.

“Naturally,” Hazel said. “You ready to take them off?”

“I told Ian it was up to him,” I said.

“Well, we can either have Andy move your arms around to the front or I can feed you from a stepladder,” Hazel said.

“When you say ‘move my arms around to the front’…” I said, remembering Karl’s words about dislocated joints.

“I mean, undo them for a sec,” she said.

Andreas returned, chicken in hand. Literally.

Hazel glared at him.

“What?” he asked.

“Plates,” she said.

“Oh, right,” he said, and headed off again.

“I’m slowly civilizing them,” she said. “Slowly.”

Andreas returned, this time with two small platters that were actually octagonal slabs of stone. He handed them to Hazel while he, at her direction, shuffled my bonds around so that I had my hands in front of me. He also increased the slack between them somehow, so I could hold the plate in one hand and lift the chicken with the other… though the plate did kind of follow the meat up.

“What can I get you to drink?” Andreas asked me. Hazel already had a bottle of beer with what looked like dwarvish writing on the label.

“What do you have without alcohol?” I asked.

“We have spring water,” Andreas said. “Oh, and human beer.”

“Non-alcoholic?” I asked.

“Mostly,” he said. “Almost ninety-five percent non-alcoholic.”

I sighed. I didn’t want to insult him.

“Hold on, Mack,” Hazel said, handing her plate and drink to Andy. “I’ll dig up something you might like, and if you don’t, I’ll break out my private stash of pop.”

I thought about asking her if we could skip the try-and-see part and go straight to the soda, but that seemed rude since apparently it wasn’t for public consumption. Anyway, I didn’t like alcohol but I wasn’t so naive as to think that life really was like after school specials. If I took a sip, I wouldn’t be raped after overdosing on herbs in the middle of a carriage crash while being teen pregnant.

“So… how are you getting along with Hazel?” I asked Andreas while she went over to a big wooden tub full of bottles with a little bit of ice.

“Beautifully,” he said. “She’s like a dream.”

“Doesn’t she kind of… bull rush over you?” I asked. “A little bit?”

“Maybe a little, but have you seen the way she eats?” he said. “It’s… it’s… erotic.”

His eyes were on Hazel rooting around in the tub as he said this. I’d never noticed anything about the way Hazel ate, except that it was frequent. I guessed dwarves—or at least Andreas—liked girls who could pack it away.

Hazel found what she was looking for, but detoured over to one of the cooking pits and loaded up a plate with some meat from the pig and a pile of what turned out to be little red potatoes, and a couple onions and tomatoes with grill marks on them.

“Vegetables,” she said as she came back, shaking her head. “There were heart attacks when I brought these down. Now all the lads are eating them.” She handed the bottle to Andreas, then picked up a big white onion and took a bite out of it.

“How can you eat that plain like that?” I asked.

“It’s sweet,” she said. “Sweeter still, after it’s been cooked for a while, but you can eat them raw like apples. You want to try?”

“No, thanks,” I said.

Andreas twisted the top off bottle and handed it to me. I had to set my plate down on the ledge before I took it. It was in amber colored glass, with the label reading “Honey Lager” in Pax.

“That’s sweet, too,” Hazel said. “Go on. Give it a sip.”

I raised the bottle to my lips. My impression of beer was a kind of sour, bitter bready taste… but this was smooth, and a little bit sweet.

“What do you think?” Hazel asked.

“It’s… good,” I said. I wasn’t about to start chugging it down, but I really couldn’t criticize the taste.

“See, a lot of people say they don’t like beer,” Hazel said. “I say they just haven’t met the right one.”

“If you like sweet things, you should just try the mead,” Andreas said.

“That’s wine with honey, right?” I asked.

“It’s wine from honey,” he said.

“You can make wine from honey?” I said.

He nodded.

“We’d been making wine that way for millennia before the sissy fruit swill came along,” he said proudly.

“I’d give the mead a pass until you’ve got a feel for the stuff,” Hazel said. “The real dwarven stuff will sneak up on you, tie a boulder to your ankles and another one to your neck, then flip a coin to see which one of them it should push off the cliff.”

Andreas beamed and bowed at what he obviously considered to be high praise.

“So, um… on the subject of being tied up, is the whole chains thing a common sight around here?” I asked. I could see a few other girls here and there, with their hands bound either in front of or behind them. I felt self-conscious about the whole thing, but I had to admit catching a glimpse of another girl with her arms bound, especially the more bare ones… well, again, it would have been better if it was just Ian, but I was still turned on a little to imagine what I must look like.

“It’s mostly unattached ladies we invite,” Andreas said. “It’s only when we do these mixers that we get a lot of the other type… and of course, we don’t force anybody to observe our customs, but some people get a kick out of it, at least for a little while.”

“So, have you been downstairs?” Hazel asked. She’d sat down on the wall and was working her way through her two plates in an astonishing display of ambidexterity. She didn’t exactly stop eating to talk, but she managed to coordinate everything so that she wasn’t actually opening her mouth with food in it. “It’s quite a set-up, if you’re not a prude… and I guess we all know you’re not a prude.”

“I’m not one for swimming,” I said.

“I meant the hot springs and the steam rooms,” Hazel said.

“Steam rooms?” I repeated. I remembered how, at Amaranth’s prompting, I’d used some improvised magic to turn the showers into a steam room. The idea of getting the same experience without the magical effort was extremely appealing, especially considering how drafty the hall was.

“Yeah,” Hazel said. “These mad dwarves steam themselves up like clams and then jump into that icy water so they get cooled off and do the whole thing over again.”

I looked at Andreas for confirmation of this insane-sounding story.

“It’s true,” he said. “On a proper mountain, we’d run out into the snow, but we make do.”

“But, that’s not required, is it?” I said. “The jumping into the water part?”

“No,” he said. “It’s just something we do to get the blood flowing, you know? And to keep from looking like one of the piggies.”

“So, you think you might check it out?” Hazel asked.

“Can I take my stuff in there?” I asked, holding up the bottle and gesturing at the plate I’d set down.

“If you like,” he asked, seeming amused by the question. “Your drink won’t stay cold in there.”

“I’ll drink it fast,” I said.

“You probably want Andy to undo your bonds, then,” Hazel said.

“Why?” I asked. “Aren’t they rustproofed, or whatever?”

“Well, yes,” Andreas said. “But you’ll be wanting to get your shirt off.”

“Why would I be wanting that?” I asked.

“You ever wear clothes in a steam bath?” Hazel asked. “It’s not pleasant.”

“Yeah, um… I’m not taking off my clothes,” I said.

“We do have towels for the modest,” Andreas said.

I started to ask if they were clean, but I decided against it. That would be rude. If the towels were too small or otherwise sketchy-looking, I could always check them out now and try to wrangle an invite back later, when I had a swimming suit or bathrobe or something.

“I think I’ll just go down and take a look, at least,” I said.

“Would you like me to undo your irons?” Andreas asked.

“Yeah,” I said, holding out my hands. I looked around. I couldn’t see Ian. “And tell Ian where I went, okay?”

I was working on my fifth piece of pizza, which would have made me feel a little guilty but nobody else was that interested in the cheese pizza. I did manage to feel a bit guilty I hadn’t actually paid for anything and I was getting a whole pizza to myself, minus the slice Two had taken, but whatever. It had been a long week and I was still feeling a little entitled.

Hazel had copies of some of the stat pages from Shiel’s rulebook and was showing them to Andreas. He seemed more intrigued by the idea now that the kobold had departed, though his attention was not as constant and unwavering as Hazel would have liked.

“Pay attention, now,” she said. She was circling some of the figures. “I want to start with a half dozen of these eagle-lion thingies, and a score of the just plain eagles. That’s why I lost last time, you know. No air support.”

“That’s funny,” Honey said. “I don’t think Miss Shiel needed ‘air support’ to beat you.”

“That’s why it’ll work,” Hazel said. “I’d imagine, growing up in a cave, that she wouldn’t have any real idea of what a group of talented flyers could do. Air superiority, that’s the ticket.”

“What about more catapults?” Andreas said. “And some heavy armored divisions?”

“Nah,” Hazel said. “I want a fast, mobile army so I can take the fight to her.”

“Didn’t you do better fighting defensively?” Honey asked.

“Well, what do you know about warfare?” Hazel asked. “During the Midwars, my ancestors were laying down their lives on the front line while yours were sitting comfortably back at headquarters, twiddling their thumbs.”

“I stand corrected,” Honey said.

“Anyway, you need to start carving my army as soon as possible,” Hazel said to Andy. “I’m sure you’ve got some of those soapy stones in that rock room, right?”

“Er, uh, yes,” Andreas said. “I suppose we probably must, somewhere.”

“Good,” Hazel said. “You rough them out and I’ll do the fine details. I’ve seen what you pass off as art. I’ll not have a shoddy-looking army, thank you very much.”

The dwarf tried to catch Ian’s eye for a little bit of sympathy, but Ian was actually looking down at the papers Hazel had spread out on the table.

“So what is this game?” Ian asked.

“Stone soldiers,” Hazel said. “Apparently it’s all the rage with Shiel’s folk.”

“How do you play?”

“You put together an army and then you set up the battlefield and then you take turns moving until somebody surrenders or gets wiped out,” Hazel said. “That’s the broad strokes, anyway. The rules are terribly complicated, covering everything from terrain to weather conditions. We didn’t play with the weather rules last time, but come to think of it, that was probably to Shiel’s advantage. Remember what she said about caves and rain? She’d probably have no idea how to cope.”

“I thought she offered to use the simplified rules because of your inexperience,” Honey said.

“Well, that was her ruse, obviously,” Hazel said. “Next time we play, I’ll insist on using the weather tables, and you’ll see how things turn out.”

Ian crouched down by the short table and turned one of the sheets around to read it.

“Oh, not you, too,” I said.

“What?”

“What’s so fascinating about imaginary warfare?” I asked.

“It sounds fun,” Ian said.

I made a face. Amaranth pulled me onto her lap.

“I think it would be more fun if the game revolved around diplomacy,” Amaranth said. “Any fool can make war, but it takes a real leader to make peace.”

“That’d be a short game, though, wouldn’t it?” Hazel said. “If you win by making peace. It would be like, turn one: offer treaty, turn two: sign treaty.”

“I’m sure there would be some way to make it interesting,” Amaranth said.

“There’s some ball games where you oversee your own lands or whatever,” I said. “You have to balance your resources and stuff, and you can form treaties and alliances with other groups, but I quit playing them because no matter how intricate the games get, it still usually ends up coming down to who has the biggest army in the end.”

“Bit of realism, that,” Andreas said.

“I don’t think it always comes down to strongest or most powerful, in real life,” Amaranth said. “Sometimes people do decide to just get along. That’s where civilization comes in, and the rule of law.”

“Well, it’s like Shiel said, isn’t it?” Hazel said. “If the folks with all the power decide they want to play nice for a while, that doesn’t mean they don’t have the power any more. All the laws and treaties in the world won’t really stop somebody who wants to from just rolling right over anybody weaker.”

“Well… maybe, or maybe not,” Amaranth said. Facing away from her, I could still hear the frown in her voice. I understood why she didn’t want it to be true, but I was having a hard time seeing a counter-argument. “I suppose there’s more than one way of looking at it, probably.”

Nobody said anything to that. She started stroking my hair in an absent sort of way.

“Um, anybody want another soda?” Ian asked, shaking his own empty bottle as he got to his feet.

“Might as well break out the beer,” Hazel said, and Andreas pulled out a couple bottles, handing one to her and holding the other out for Ian.

“Thanks,” he said, accepting it and twisting off the top. He took a cautious sip, and then a larger swallow.

“How do you like it?” Andreas asked.

“It’s good,” Ian said.

“Not too strong?” He sounded a bit disappointed.

Ian shook his head.

“It’s really not bad,” he said.

“Would you ladies like one?” Andreas asked Amaranth and me.

“No, thank you,” Amaranth said. “We’re fine with soda.”

I thought about suggesting we close the door now that non-dwarves were drinking, but that went pretty strongly against my instincts. Andreas seemed decent enough and I was surrounded by friends, but I liked having an escape route if drinking was going on.

“Say, have you lot ever been to a dwarven party?” Andreas asked. “We’re having one tonight, if you’re interested, and I would be more than happy to show you the way in.” He looked at Amaranth. “You’d be particularly welcome, I think.”

“Hey, now,” Hazel said, elbowing him in the side.

“I didn’t mean for me,” he said.

“I didn’t figure you did,” she said. “But what are you doing, talking about going to parties when there’s carving to do?”

“How much carving do you plan on doing today?”

“As much as we can,” Hazel said. “I don’t know how long it takes to finish a figure but I want my own troops ready as soon as possible. It’s a matter of honor.”

“I never knew you to care so much about honor before you lost a silly parlor game,” Honey said.

“It isn’t a parlor game,” Hazel said. “It’s war.”

“In any case, as much as I hate to turn down an invitation for anything, but I’m kind of already committed for tonight,” Amaranth said to Andreas. “Maybe next time?”

“I’ll look forward to it,” the dwarf said. “And yourself?” he asked me.

“I don’t know,” I said. Andreas seemed nice enough, but I wasn’t sure I’d be comfortable by myself in a room full of drunken dwarves, especially if he and Hazel were going to be otherwise occupied. “Maybe if you’re there,” I said, looking at Ian.

Ian looked at Andreas. I think he wasn’t sure if the invitation included him. I wasn’t, either, for that matter.

“Friends of Hazel are always welcome in the Underhall,” Andreas said.

“Okay, then,” Ian said. He took another drink. “We’re trying to get a rehearsal together this evening, but I don’t think that’ll go too long.”

“Nothing’ll happen before ten, anyway,” Andreas said.

“Don’t forget that we’ve got plans tomorrow, baby,” Amaranth said.

“I won’t,” I said. In fact, I figured that would be a handy excuse for leaving if things started to get uncomfortable. “We’ll just go for a little while, to see what it’s like.”

“How do we get there?” Ian asked.

“I’ll send Karl to guide you at… say, about nine thirty.”

“I thought you said nothing happens before ten,” I said.

“It takes at least half an hour to get there,” Andreas said. “Especially with the blindfolds.”

“Blindfolds?” I repeated.

“The dwarves take their privacy very seriously,” Amaranth said.

“I’m not sure about this…” I said.

“I think it sounds kind of fun,” Ian said.

“It’s not a lot of human menfolk who get to see the hall at all,” Andreas said.

Ian shot me an appealing look. I sighed.

“Okay, we’ll be there,” I said.

“I guess we can take a little break from the carving, then,” Hazel said. “Just to be hospitable and all.”

“Are you going to be there?” I asked Honey, thinking it would be nice to know at least one other non-drinker would be present. She shook her head, though.

“The crowd’s a bit rougher than I like,” she said.

“Just how rough does it get?” I asked.

“Oh, it’s nothing, Mack,” Hazel said. “Dwarven boys are as decent as they come. Sure, there’s a bit of pawing and staring of them that are willing, but they know how to behave themselves if you’re not interested.”

“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Ian said, though it was obvious from both his voice and face that he really wanted to.

“If you’re worried about that, you have my word that no dwarf will make advances on you,” Andreas said. “Not if you show up on a man’s arm.”

“Okay,” I said. “But again, just for a little while. I’ve got to get up early in the morning.”

“That reminds me… Ian, would you like to come shopping with us?” Amaranth asked. “We’re planning on spending the day in town.”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” he said. “We’re trying to get as much practice time in together now, before we get closer to midterms and stuff.”

“Okay,” Amaranth said pleasantly. “I just thought I’d offer.”

After that, the conversation stayed on Ian’s band for a while. As modest as he was about his own talent, he could barely contain his pride for his still almost brand new lute. I didn’t understand most of what he had to say about it, or the band’s emerging style.

I didn’t recognize most of the bands he mentioned, either, and I don’t think it was just because I didn’t listen to a lot of commercial music.

To my surprise, though, Amaranth seemed quite knowledgeable both about music and the obscure bands he liked. I listened, half amused and half bemused, as they went back and forth. It sounded like Amaranth’s familiarity was mostly secondhand and academic, but Ian didn’t call her on it. He sounded glad to have somebody to talk to about it.

I was just glad that they were talking, naturally and easily, and about something unrelated to sex. Hazel and Andreas went back to drawing up plans for Hazel’s military triumph.

I sat on Amaranth’s lap and finished off the cheese pizza, soaking it all in. I was feeling an odd sort of afterglow. For all the various tensions among the group, we’d all sat down and shared pizza.

Lame, I know. It wasn’t so much that this was the pinnacle of social interaction or something… it was more the fact that it was so utterly middle of the road, so completely typical. College students hanging out and having pizza. It was so normal.

And that night, I’d be going to a party. As nervous as I was, I couldn’t deny that on some level, drinking and boys meant it was undeniably a proper party. Even if I didn’t stay, it would be worth going just to say I had gone.

That was to say nothing of the Veil Ball.

I figured I might have to scramble a bit to catch up in my classes in the next week or so, but my social life was definitely shaping up. No matter how things turned out with the arbitration, I had that.

The only real dark cloud on the horizon was the coming encounter with Viktor. I couldn’t quite forget about that no matter how much else was on my mind, but I also couldn’t do anything about it at the moment. If that worked out, I had my date with Steff to look forward to. If it didn’t… well… I couldn’t do anything about that, and in the mean time, there was pizza and parties.

Life wasn’t bad.

In fact, it was actually kind of good.

After getting dressed and cleaned up a bit, we headed over to Hazel and Honey’s room, where we’d last seen Amaranth. The door was open.

Amaranth was sitting with her back against one of the beds and her long legs stretched out in front of her, a plate with two slices of the cheeseless pizza and another one with two slices of cheese next to her.

The tea tray had been moved to one of the beds, and three boxes of pizza sat in its former place on the table. Oru, Shiel, Hazel, Honey and a redheaded dwarf with a plaited beard were seated around the table, eating and drinking.

Two was also sitting on one of the tiny chairs, with legs crossed in front of her and her plate almost out of reach on the table. She showed absolutely no signs of discomfort. In fact, she looked absolutely content.

The dwarf leapt to his feet as we stepped into the room.

“Hi, baby!” Amaranth said. “Sorry we started without you,” she said, though I noticed she hadn’t yet touched her slices. It didn’t look like Two or Honey had even taken any yet. “We would have told you guys the pizza was here, but Two absolutely forbade anybody from bothering you while the sock was on the door.”

“That’s what it’s for,” Two said.

“It’s okay,” I said, smiling.

“Ian, Mack, I’d like you to meet my man, Andy,” Hazel said, gesturing towards the dwarf. I did a double take. She’d previously described her boyfriend as “big” and “not from Harlowe”, so my mind had gone to “human.” Well, the dwarf was around a gnome’s head taller than her, and quite a bit broader across the shoulders and waist.

“Andreas, son of Andreas,” he said, bowing. “Of Clan Ironholt.”

“Oh, I used to have a class with one of your kinsmen,” I said. Karl, son of Krieg, had been among the first people to walk out of Professor Ariadne’s class when her snit against me backfired.

He nodded. I noticed he’d put his hand on the back of his chair and pulled it out a bit, and was looking at me somewhat deferentially.

“Um, thank you, but that’s okay,” I said. “Thanks.”

He nodded, and re-took his seat.

“Ian, we’ve got supreme, cheese, and vegetarian,” Amaranth said as she held up the plate with my pizza on it. I accepted it and sat down beside her. “Go ahead and help yourself.”

I lifted the still-warm slice and took a careful bite. Nine years separated me from my most recent experiences of cheese pizza delivered fresh. My memories weren’t so much of a taste as the feeling of “Pizza! Yay! Pizza!”, but I wasn’t disappointed. The cheese was gooey and satisfyingly stretchy, and the tangy sauce was surprisingly sweet.

“Which one’s supreme?” Ian asked, heading towards the table.

“The big one on the bottom,” Hazel said, shifting the other boxes off of it.

Ian took two slices from it. Honey took three, and Two took one slice of each kind.

“Um, how much…?” Ian asked as he settled down on the other side of me.

“It’s pay what you can, here,” Hazel said. “Oh, and these are Oru and Shiel. Oru, Shiel, this is Ian, Mack’s fella.”

“Hi,” Shiel said.

“Very nice to meet you,” Oru said.

“Uh, yeah, hi,” Ian said. He seemed a little weirded out by the goblinoids, but he didn’t say anything and at least he wasn’t staring.

He refused to let me chip in anything for the pizza while he was there, though I have to admit I didn’t argue very hard. I was coming to accept this as part of having a boyfriend. As Two would say, it was what he was for. Okay, so that’s not a completely modern or enlightened view, but I’d missed out on so much dating fun in high school.

“What do you want to drink?” he asked me. Everybody else had cans and bottles of soda, except for Andreas, who had a bottle of beer.

“I’ve some more beer, if you want one,” Andreas said, holding up a wicker carrying case which chinked.

“Hey, sure,” Ian said. “Thanks.”

“Hold on, Andy,” Hazel said. “No drinking out of bounds in front of Two. Her poor head might explode from the wrongness of it all.”

“Two won’t mind,” Amaranth said.

“Yes, I would,” Two said.

“It’s okay,” Ian said. He gave Two a dirty look, which she returned.

“I’ll take a strawberry or orange if they’ve got it,” I said quickly. “Or root beer. Please.”

“Be right back, then,” he said, and headed out into the hallway.

“Two… do you happen to still have a key to your old room?” Amaranth asked.

“No, I do not happen to still have a key to my old room,” Two said, shaking her head. “I was required to turn it in when I changed.”

“Pooh,” Amaranth said, frowning. “I would really feel better if I could check on Dee. Baby, if we found somebody who could fix it, would you break the lock for me?”

“Um, I guess,” I said. “But I’d really rather not. That seems kind of serious, even if it’s fixed.”

“Breaking into another resident’s room is grounds for disciplinary action up to and including expulsion or eviction from the residence hall,” Two said.

“Well… we probably shouldn’t risk it, then,” Amaranth said. She chewed on her lip. “Though, if it’s a matter of life and death…”

“You don’t really think it is, though, do you?” I asked.

“I don’t know!” Amaranth said. “That’s what bothers me. What if it is, and we don’t do anything?”

I shrugged. I didn’t have anything useful to contribute.

“I know Trina’s taking a minor in the subtle arts,” Amaranth said. “But I haven’t seen her all day. Do we know anybody who’s in divination?”

“Twyla,” Two and I said at the same time.

“Maybe we can talk her into peeking through the door,” Amaranth said. “And if something is wrong, we can make Kiersta open the door, or have some justification for breaking it down if she won’t.”

Having even such a nebulous and conditional plan as that seemed to cheer her up, and she picked up a slice of pizza and took a bite.

Ian came back with a bottle of strawberry soda for me and an I.C. Cola for himself. He handed me my soda, and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek as he sat back down beside me.

“So… did you two have fun?” Amaranth asked us.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, blushing despite the fact that there were undoubtedly other ways the question could have been taken.

“I knew you were worried over nothing,” she said.

As we settled in to eat, Oru and Honey were having a conversation about choral music. Hazel was talking with a rather subdued Shiel about their war game. She kept trying to engage Andreas in the talk, but he and Shiel seemed to both prefer to pretend the other wasn’t there, which made it a little difficult.

“So, Seeyan,” Oru said, looking at Ian. “I’m told you’re a musician?”

“Um, it’s ‘Ian’,” Ian said. “And yeah, kind of.”

“Ee-Yan,” Oru said, overpronouncing the name. She giggled.

“What?” Ian asked.

“Human names are so weird,” she said.

“Um, okay,” Ian said.

“Are there girls named Ian?”

“Why would there be girls named Ian?” Ian asked. “It’s a boy’s name.”

“Well, I don’t know,” Oru said. “That’s why I asked, isn’t it?”

“Ian’s in a band,” I said, trying to bring the conversation back around.

“Oh, yes!” Amaranth said. “You have to tell us all about that.”

“Well, it’s nothing, really,” Ian said. “I mean, everybody with a lute’s in a band, in college, right?”

“Do you sing?” Honey asked.

“In the shower,” Ian replied. “I mean, at home, I did. Not here. That might get weird.”

“You know, it took me a while to figure out those showers,” Oru said. “I’m used to washing from a basin, so at first I stood alongside the water and just wet my washcloth, until I saw somebody else getting under the water.”

“I still do it that way,” Shiel said. “One of the virtues of underground living is you never have to get rained on. I’d wash at the sink if it wasn’t so exposed, or in the tub if it wasn’t so awkward getting in and out.”

Oru shrugged.

“It’s kind of fun, actually,” she said. “Once you get used to it, and work out how to keep the water cold enough.”

“You like cold showers?” I asked, shuddering.

“Of course,” Oru said. “Hot water’s for cooking.”

“Oh,” I said. I turned to Amaranth. “That reminds me,” I said, quietly. “I need to talk to you later, about… um… rings.”

“Oh, baby, you didn’t!” Amaranth exclaimed, horrified.

“What?”

“Have unprotected sex!”

“No!” I said. “But… apparently, I’m too cold-susceptible to use them safely.”

“Oh!” Amaranth said. “I didn’t even think… you didn’t have a problem last time, though, did you?”

“It was sort of extremely uncomfortable, but I got over it,” I said. “I figured it was normal. But Ian had an extra-strength model and it just about froze me solid.”

“You should have said something,” Amaranth said. “We can’t look after your needs if we don’t know what they are.”

“Sorry,” I said. “I really thought it was nothing. Do you think it’s okay for me to keep using the regular ones?”

“We’ll look into it,” Amaranth said. “But it’ll be better if we can find something that doesn’t cause you discomfort. We’ll ask Steff what she knows about necromantic alternatives, okay?”

“Necromancy in my personal life causes me discomfort,” I said.

“Well, it’s the easiest way to prevent unwanted life… using the ice element’s kind of taking the long way around in order to avoid upsetting people’s sillier sensibilities,” Amaranth said.

“What’s silly about not wanting death magic in my vagina?” I asked.

A noise from the table caught my attention, and I turned to see the aftermath of Andreas apparently squirting beer from his slightly oversized nose.

“Oh, baby, you should know that death is just the other side of life,” Amaranth said. “Anyway, it’s too bad pregnancy’s your main worry and not disease. You can get rings with run-of-the-mill disease protection without the anti-conception enchantments. Though, those are usually blessed rather than enchanted… so I guess you’d have a problem, either way.”

“We can do other stuff,” Ian said. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is!” I said. “I don’t want to be the next girlfriend you can’t do certain things with.”

“We’ll look into it, baby,” Amaranth said soothingly. “There will be something you can do, I’m sure.”

“So, um, Ian,” Oru said, pronouncing his name a bit more naturally, though she still had a bit of amusement on her face as she said it. “Have you met Moeli?”

“Who?” Ian asked.

“One of the older boys here,” she said. “I’d like to introduce you to him.”

“Is he a musician?”

“I don’t think so,” Oru said. “But I really think you should meet him. Hey, you know, I heard there’s some kind of dance at the pent on Wednesday. Maybe we should all go together, you and Mack and him and me.”

“Uh, what do you think?” Ian asked me.

“I think it could be fun,” I said. “Who’s putting on the dance?” I asked Oru.

She shrugged.

“I don’t know,” she said. “One of the student groups or another. I just heard somebody talking about it in my history class.” I scowled, and Oru jumped back a little in her seat. “I just thought it might be fun!” she said quickly.

“Oh, it’s not that,” I said. “It just pisses me off that we’re always the last to hear about these things.”

“Sorry,” Ian said. “I could try to make a point to tell you about dances and stuff, if you’re interested.”

“It’s not… actually, yeah,” I said. “Please do. Make a note of any posters and things that go up in your dorm.” It wouldn’t hurt to have some documentation of exactly what we were missing, and of course, then I could also make sure everybody else knew.

“Right,” Ian said. “Well, there’s that dance thing, and then there’s another one in a couple weeks for Veil.”

“What?” I asked. The thoughts of my personal crusade were rapidly receding in my mind.

“The Veil Ball,” he said. “It’s in a couple weeks.”

“There’s a Veil Ball?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Do people… does anybody dress up for it?” I asked.

“It says there’s prizes for costumes, so I guess so,” he said. “Remember, this is my first year, too.”

“I’ll bet Steff knows all about it,” Amaranth said.

I didn’t say anything. This was almost too much to believe. I’d never sat down and thought about it, but I’d kind of taken it as an article of faith that as college students, we were all “too old” for such silliness as dressing up as monsters and princesses every Calendula.

“We should protest,” Shiel said.

“Huh?” I asked.

“Veil,” Shiel said. “Humans got up like ‘monsters’ and terrorizing each other. It’s offensive and it reinforces stereotypes.”

“It’s not like that!” I said.

“What is it like, then?” Shiel asked.

“Pretending you’re somebody else,” I said. “Something you’re not. Hiding your face from the world.”

“Well, I can see why that might appeal to you,” Shiel said. “But I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“It’s fun,” I said. “Or at least, it’s supposed to be.”

“I wonder…” Amaranth said.

“What?” I asked.

“Veil’s a religious feast, isn’t it?” she asked.

“It was originally,” I said. “Arka… Arkhanite.”

“And the costumes are part of that?” she asked, not noticing my slip.

“I think,” I said. “It ties in somehow. I don’t really know much about it, except what my grandmother told me.”

“I wonder,” Amaranth repeated.

“I guess Steff would know about that, too,” I said.

“So it’s not just a hotbed of racial insensitivity,” Shiel said. “It’s wholesale appropriation from an oppressed religion by the dominant culture.”

“I think it’s important to honor other peoples’ religious traditions,” Amaranth said. “Very important.”

I began to see where her line of thinking was going. I privately wondered if Mother Khaele attached the same importance to the nymphly dictate against clothing that Amaranth did. Personally, if I had been a nature deity, I would have been more concerned about her attempts to argue around the strictures against bestiality.

“I’m not sure I’d call it ‘honoring’,” Shiel said.

“You know, in some circles, it’s considered impolite to discuss religion at the table,” Honey said.

“I don’t discuss it anywhere,” Oru said. “It only leads to arguments.”

“I’m sorry,” Shiel said. “I suppose we’ll have to agree to disagree.”

“So, um… you want to go to the Veil thing?” Ian asked.

I nodded.

“Yes,” I said. “Very much.”

“Okay,” he said. He took my hand and gave me a squeeze.

“We’ll go together,” Amaranth said. “The three of us. And Steff, if she wants to. Which, I bet she will.”

“Oh, joy,” Ian said. I gave his hand a slightly harder squeeze, and he grimaced.

“Have you, um, talked to Viktor about the whole thing?” I asked Amaranth.

“Not yet, baby,” she said. “But I’m going to work the boys’ side here today.”

“Okay,” I said.

“It’ll be okay,” she said. “I promise.”

I didn’t say anything. I was sure she meant it, insofar as it was within her power to do anything about it. I just wasn’t sure how far that power would actually extend. If Viktor said Steff and I were through, the only choice Steff had was to obey or end things with Viktor. There was no question how that would turn out.

“Well, I think it sounds like an absolute lark,” Honey said. “I haven’t been to a fancy dress party in ages. Do you remember, Hazel? New Year’s at my uncle’s? We went as peacocks!”

“I remember putting my knee to your uncle’s grapes when he showed an unseemly amount of interest in my tail feathers,” Hazel said.

“Oh, you didn’t!” Honey said.

“I did so,” Hazel said. “I very nearly gave them to him to wear, if he liked them so much.”

“I suppose that would explain why we weren’t invited back next year.”

Shiel sighed.

“I don’t suppose I can count on you to oppose this pageant of insensitivity?” she asked Oru.

“We should go as each other!” Oru said to Honey. “Me as you and you as me.”

“I can paint my face!” Honey said, nodding eagerly.

“I weep for the future,” Shiel said.

Hazel had attracted the dwarves’ attention with a spontaneous performance of a traditional drinking song, and now that it was over, the two gnomes practically faded into the background of the underground chamber.

“They probably could have done without you telling that joke, though,” Honey sniffed.

“I don’t think they were offended,” Hazel said. “They’re lads… and dwarves, besides. Anyway, they laughed hard enough.”

“Maybe they were being polite,” Honey said.

“They’re dwarves,” Hazel said again. “What are you, afraid we won’t get asked back?”

“I don’t know if I’d want to be,” Honey said, looking around at the walls and high vaulted ceiling of cold stone, the carved faces, the smoky torches, and ubiquitous ravens. “This place is not exactly homey.”

“Well, now, at least it’s underground, isn’t it?” Hazel said. “That’s something, after weeks clinging to the top of that mountain they call a hall.”

Honey shivered.

“I know,” she said. “Have you ever looked out our window?”

“Just once,” Hazel said. “It was enough for me.”

“Me, too,” Honey said. “I thought I was going to swoon. I don’t know how other people can stand it.”

“I suppose they get more practice with heights, being up on those legs all day long,” Hazel said. “What’s killing me is the stairs, though I guess I shouldn’t complain. There’s a bloke on the other side with a horse for legs. Wonder how he manages?”

“I can’t begin to imagine,” Honey said. She gave Hazel a dirty look. “Though I can’t help but notice that you’re no longer lugging your own books up and down.”

“She likes to help her friends,” Hazel said.

“You shouldn’t take advantage of the simple,” Honey said.

“Two’s about as simple as counting raindrops before they hit,” Hazel said. “And she’d be hurt if I didn’t let her help.”

“You know, I think I could do with some food,” Honey said. No matter how they quarreled, it wasn’t hard to find common ground.

“Right,” Hazel said. She made a big show of looking around the wide open room, which had several slow-roasted pigs in various states of decimation. “I think somebody said there’s pork around here somewhere.”

“Oh, stop it,” Honey said.

“Come on, then,” Hazel said. She pointed to where the mermaids were now standing by one of the roasting pits, tearing at big hunks of meat with obvious relish. “Let’s go say hi to whatserface with the big droopy pendants.”

“Ugh, such manners,” Honey said.

“Mine or theirs?” Hazel asked.

“Both,” Honey said. “Or rather, neither.”

“Of course we try to eat as much as we can while they’re still alive,” the red haired (and scaled) mermaid Iona was saying to the shirelings’ floor mate, Feejee as the two approached. “But if there’s any leftovers, we drag them up on the rocks and make a fire. Live is best, but roasted is good, too.”

“Oh, you have fire?” Feejee said, enviously. “We have to bring them to the surface and boil the sea around them.”

“Hey there, ladies,” Hazel said, her interest naturally piqued by the subject of food. “What are you talking about?”

The mermaids hadn’t noticed the approach of the two gnomes–who were known to be hard to notice almost on an inherent level–and they started guiltily at Hazel’s voice, turning and staring down at the pair with wide eyes.

“Shellfish,” they both said, after a moment.

“Oh, yeah,” Hazel said with enthusiasm. “I could just murder a giant freshwater crab right about now. We have those, back around the shire… usually takes the militia to bring ‘em down, but it’s well worth it. Legs as big and thick around as your own… can you even imagine eating something like that?”

“No,” both mermaids said quickly.

“Hey, Iona, let’s, um…” Feejee said, pulling on the other mermaid’s arm.

“Boys,” Iona said, pointing at a cluster of human men who were playing some variation of darts using chunks of calcium stone. “We should… boys.”

“Yes,” Feejee agreed. “We should.”

“Huh,” Hazel said, watching the two of them hurry off. “I thought she had a fellow already.”

“Maybe she’s given him the night off,” Honey said. “I mean, you didn’t bring your big blonde lady friend tonight.”

“Oh, don’t you start in on Two again,” Hazel said. “Let’s get our food.”

“Are there any plates?” Honey asked doubtfully, looking around the room.

“Hold on,” Hazel said. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a thin stack of small paper plates, folded into quarters. She opened it up and pulled two off. “Always be prepared for food.”

“I don’t suppose you have anything like a carving knife?” Honey asked.

“When you get right to it, a knife’s a knife, right?” Hazel said, lifting the hem of her dress and drawing one from a sheath strapped to her calf. Honey, following the movement, let out a gasp.

“What?” Hazel asked, smoothing her floor-length dress self-consciously.

“You shaved your feet,” Honey whispered.

Hazel forced a shrug.

“It’s the look now, among humans,” Hazel said.

“Human prostitutes, maybe,” Honey said.

“No, they all shave their feet,” Hazel said. “Take a look in the shower some time if you don’t believe me.”

“I will not,” Honey said.

“Anyway, do you want some meat or not?” Hazel asked.

“Fine.”

Hazel pulled herself up by grabbing onto an exposed bit of pig flesh and began cutting it.

“Hazel, for goodness sakes, ask somebody to help you,” Honey said.

“Don’t want to be a bother,” Hazel said, falling down as the chunk of meat came free. She put it on Honey’s plate and then jumped up to get another for herself.

“This is so uncivilized,” Honey said.

“Welcome to college life,” Hazel said, landing with a grunt after securing her own meal.

“So, does it seem to you like an awful lot of folks in our dorm are… funny?” Honey asked.

“I think it’s more like the ones who are all hang out together, so you’re more apt to notice them,” Hazel said. “Birds of a feather, and all that. Anyway, I don’t think Two’s like that, if you’re still on about her. She’s just friends with some of them who are.”

“What is she like, then?” Honey asked.

“Well, she talks a lot about that elf in the skirts, sometimes,” Hazel said. “But I don’t think she’s actually keen on him, and I don’t know what it would make her if she was.”

A dwarf with a braided red beard tucked into his belt backed into the two diminutive women and then spun around, momentarily confused.

“Oh, hi there!” he said, mindless of the amber liquid he’d just sloshed all over himself.

“Hello,” Hazel said.

“Didn’t mean to plow into you like that. My name’s Andreas,” the dwarf said. “Son of Andreas, too, of Clan Ironholt.”

“Hazel Willikins, Shire of Logfallen,” Hazel said, putting her plate down on a rocky shelf protruding from the wall. She held out her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s mine, to be sure,” Andreas, son of Andreas, said. “It’s nice to meet a woman who I’m not staring in the knees, so to speak.”

“Does that mean you don’t want to see my knees, then?” Hazel asked. “Because here I was set to show you them.”

“Ha-zel!” Honey said.

“Say, can I get either of you dainty young beauties a flagon of mead?” he asked.

“No, thank you,” Honey said.

“She’ll have water,” Hazel said. “But I wouldn’t say no to a brown ale, if you’ve got one.”

“Lass, you just try an’ name a drink we don’t have,” the dwarf said.

“Oh, could I get a glass of sparkling white zin with that, then?” Hazel asked.

The dwarf stared at her in disbelief for several seconds, then burst into raucous laughter.

“Point, lass!” he said. “I’ll be right back with your brew.”

As he hurried off on the circular path around the room towards a large chunk of conjured ice which bristled with bottles protruding from its surface, Hazel turned an appraising eye towards her cousin.

“Never thought I’d live to see the day that ‘Honey’ Callaway turned down mead,” Hazel said, shaking her head. “I mean, you’re thirty-three and you’re free, aren’t you?”

“I’m only ‘free’ because I gave the sheriff my parole that I’d straighten up and go to college,” Honey said. “And you’re supposed to be here to support me, Miss Hazel Willikins, not to drag me back down.”

“Suit your own self,” Hazel said, shrugging. “I just suspected that you only told Old Grout that so you could get out from under his thumb for a bit.”

“That sort of trick may be common with your family,” Honey said stiffly. “But the word of a Callaway’s still worth something in Logfallen.”

“A kind word’s worth its weight in gold, as my own mother used to say,” Hazel said. “And she was a Callaway.”

“How on earth does one weigh a word?” Honey asked.

“Now, I asked her that very question,” Hazel said. “She told me it was best to hold my tongue until I figured that out.”

“Your mum was odd,” Honey said.

“Pretty much,” Hazel agreed. “She said some fairly daft things, at the end. She sang like nothing else, though.”

“She sang like a Callaway woman,” Honey said quietly.

Andreas returned with two steins, one filled with water from the waterfall and the other with Hazel’s beer.

“There you go, then,” he said, handing them the mugs. He turned to Hazel. “Now, I believe you were saying something about your knees?”

Hazel took a swig of the ale.

“Was it my knees, or my thighs?” Hazel asked. “My memory gets a little fuzzy when I’ve had a bit to drink.”

“Why don’t you have a bit more, then?” Andreas suggested.

“Excuse me, Andreas, but could I just have a small glass of mead, please?” Honey asked.

“Well, I don’t know about that,” the dwarf said. “I could get you a big cup with a little mead in it, though.”

“That would be fine, thank you,” Honey said.

“You falling off the wagon, or just trying to protect my virtue?” Hazel asked as Andreas hurried off again.

Honey shook her head and said nothing.

Mead being plentiful and widely distributed throughout the common hall, Andreas wasn’t gone for long.

“Here you go, lass,” he said. He turned to Hazel again. “Now, then…”

“Could you please excuse us for a minute, Andreas?” Honey asked.

“Oh… er… well, sure,” he said. He winked at Hazel “But don’t you go disappearing on me.”

“I’ll try not to,” Hazel said. She waved a tiny hand as Andreas backed away, colliding with a mail-clad dwarf and touching off a scuffle. Once he was no longer watching, she wheeled angrily on her cousin. “What’d you go and do that for?”

She lost her steam when she saw Honey, staring into space with a far-off look in her eye.

“A toast,” Honey said, raising her stein. “To Johanna Callaway.”

“Johanna Willikins,” Hazel said, lifting her own cup.

“To Johanna Callaway-Willikins,” Honey amended. “My Auntie Joy.”

“My mother,” Hazel said, a tear in her eye.

Honey downed her mead and Hazel took a big swig of her own drink.

Honey wiped her mouth and eyes, then cleared her throat.

“Over…” she croaked. She cleared her throat again.

“Oh, don’t,” Hazel said. “Please, don’t.”

“Over in Logfallen,” Honey began again, her voice a little small and tremulous but gaining strength and confidence as she continued. “Many years ago…”

“No, seriously, stop,” Hazel said, a larger-than-gnomish droplet spilling down her cheek, but Honey sang on.

“…my mother used to sing to me, in tones so sweet and low…”

Then Hazel could stand it no longer, and she joined in.

“…just a simple little ditty, in her good old shire-ish way, and I’d give the world if she could sing that song to me this day…”