To the casual observer, it appeared that Scholar was well into his cups that day. Only Solomon knew the old foist had switched to barley water hours ago. From his vantage point at the bar, Scholar had watched the day unfold. He knew Hashim was up to something, and Blasé was undoubtedly on the inside.

Alan rushed in; his violet eyes were feverish with worry. Scholar noted the malice in Blasé's gaze as the fool spied on their conversation. Scholar knew it was time to act. Alan crossed the room, and headed for George's office.

Blasé moved as if to follow the boy, and Scholar called, "Blase. Come here and share some thoughts with an old man." Scholar beckoned for the lad to come sit beside him at the bar. Blasé scanned the crowd once more, but it would be suspicious if he refused.

Scholar gestured for Solomon to pour Blasé a beer. "To your youth, lad." Scholar slurred the words appropriately, and thrust the drink toward the boy. Blasé looked distastefully down at the mug, but Swiftknife gave the boy a dangerous look.

"It'd be rude to refuse." Marek warned.

Scholar grinned vacantly and lifted his own mug. "Long live King Roald." The room erupted in a chorus of "Long live the king," and Blasé slowly pretended to take a sip of the drink. Scholar grinned and sloppily spun toward the crowd. He swung his arms out, as if directing a troupe of Players.

When Blasé turned his head toward Solomon, Scholar took the opportunity. Quickly, he swung his arm back around, and his heavy tankard caught Blasé in the temple.

The boy spluttered and clutched his ringing ear. Scholar was the epitome of apologetic. "My lad, forgive an old man and his clumsiness. I meant to do this." Scholar grabbed a handful of Blasé's thick mop of hair, and slammed the traitor's head into the bar. Blasé slumped in his chair, unconscious.

Lightfingers approached the bar shook his head mock-regretfully. "You are a belligerent drunk, Scholar." He admonished.

The older man grinned and hiccupped.

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Beka's POV

Rosto and I tumbled out of George's office, our necks craned to find some sign of Blasé. I caught sight of his dark nob, resting chin first on the bar table. Scholar sat with one arm wrapped around our unconscious Rat. With his free hand, Scholar raised a tankard and saluted us.

"Never doubted ye for a minute, little miss. You're a Cooper, by Kyprioth's left nostril."

The Rushers in the room cheered heartily, the bar shook with their noise. I'll never know what took place there whilst Rosto and I were in George's office.

Rosto grinned and turned to look at me. I quivered, relieved and scared at the same moment. Rosto wrapped an arm around my waist and led me out the front door and onto the streets.

"Breathe, Cooper, just breathe." His large hands rested on my shoulders; he peered down at me with his black eyes.

I took his advice and slowed my thoughts along with my breath. He waited patiently, silent.

"I wasn't lying." I said finally.

"Do you ever lie, Cooper?" Rosto asked sardonically. I smiled in spite of myself. "But you're worried about something." Rosto prompted.

"You." I admitted. "Us." I amended. "Being a Dog is all I want to do, even you can't change that."

"And I have a responsibility to my people." Rosto added softly. "But if Kora and Ersken are able—

"What about Aniki?" I asked miserably. "She's my friend, but," I blushed furiously and forced the words out. "I'm not going to share a man, either." I waited with baited breath, ready for him to make a prideful retort.

Rosto smiled, but his answer was sincere. "She'll understand. She was the one who pointed out my cold heart was melting. When we get back to our time, Aniki will be Queen soon, and will have her choice of free coves."

I felt my heart stutter; he made it seem simple. "I'm not ready for children or real canoodling yet." I warned him.

He kissed my forehead, unusually tender. My nose buried into the base of his neck, his arms wrapped securely around me. I don't know how long we stood that way.

Pounce found us and let his annoyance be known to both of us. 'I leave you alone for one afternoon…two-leggers.' He didn't sound truly displeased, he let me pick him up and settle him on my shoulder. His scratchy tongue scraped over my face, and I giggled.

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Late Evening:

Again, Scholar hoisted his mug in the air, hiccupped, and took a long sip. He was back to the real stuff, on George's tab, no less. He smacked his lips happily and scratched his soggy beard.

There was a sharp tap on his shoulder. Scholar turned and nearly fell out of his chair. Muttering, he looked around for the interloper.

The man was ancient, with glittering green eyes and a thin white beard. Scholar pegged him as Yamani because of his skin tone and dress. But something about the man seemed…inhuman. Scholar let out a long belch. He was drunk and he knew it. He stared at the old-timer expectantly, waiting for the man to speak.

"Do you know where I might find Beka Cooper?" The old man's voice was sharp and precise. His tone carried a fair amount of disgust, and his eyes crackled with impatience.

"Wennnt chasin' afta….Blaaaa," Scholar burped again. He shrugged. "Talk ta Sweeftnate." He reached for his mug again.

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Beka's POV

The rest of the day passed in a pleasant blur. Rosto and I made moon-eyes at each other as we wandered through Lower City. We stopped for lunch—at a different tavern—and Rosto paid for the meal.

I was able to ignore a pickpocket, a minnow anyway. Rosto laughed at the look on my face; it wasn't easy. Pounce mhrrred cat-talk; either he didn't want me to understand, or I was too distracted to listen.

Rosto does have a sweet side. He pulled out my chair at the tavern; he held the door open as we left. I don't usually think of Rosto as well mannered, but I'm sure there are many things I've not thought of.

Pounce jumped into my arms, his talk was getting more urgent. "Pay attention, Fishpuppy! Dragons do not like to be kept waiting."

"You found Songwind?" Rosto asked. Just as he'd done with the pigeons, Rosto took Pounce's ability in stride. "Here little King. Lead us away." Rosto carefully took Pounce out of my arms and set the cat on the ground. Pounce shook himself, cleaned his ear quickly for good measure, and trotted off toward the Olrun River.