Galen felt too hot in his robe, too... big, and itching, and utterly unable to sit still and wait until the majordomo returned with the master of the house. He was pacing from desk to window and back again, trying not to look at the trophies and medals displayed on every wall.

I was such a fool. Such a blind, greedy, careless fool.

But he couldn't afford feeling embarrassed. Ramor would enter any moment now, and then he'd have to wrest Alan from the big Chimpanzee's hands, two days early, and for that, he needed to be cool and detached. If he allowed himself to feel anything, it could only be righteous indignation - at Ramor, not at himself.

By sheer luck, Galen had come to stand before Ramor's desk when the door opened; at least the other ape didn't catch him pacing his office like a student awaiting detention.

"I'm here to revoke our deal," Galen said without preamble. "And you're lucky if that's the only thing I'll do."

Ramor blinked, then slowly continued to his desk. "What's the problem, Oklan? Revoking a deal is not a frivolous matter..."

"Closing a deal under false pretenses isn't, either," Galen cut in. "Or do you still want to claim that you rented my human to serve as a party decoration?"

Ramor squinted at him. "Except that I never claimed that."

Galen hesitated. He couldn't remember what exactly Ramor had said three days ago; the only detail he remembered clearly were the sembles that the Chimpanzee had counted into his money pouch.

"You didn't outright claim it, no," he barged forward. "But you framed your offer in a way that led me to false conclusions, and you did nothing to correct them. That's just as much fraud as lying directly."

Ramor scoffed. "I'm not responsible for your assumptions. And you were more than happy to take my money-"

"I wouldn't have taken your money, or made that deal, if I had known what kind of business you run," Galen said grimly. "You tricked me into this deal, which makes it void. And now get my human here, before-"

Ramor raised his brows, amused. "Before you call the town watch?"

"Oh, I already had the pleasure of meeting your watch," Galen said, and felt a strange calm descending on him. "I'm afraid they don't meet my standards for law enforcement. But this here," he lifted the lapel of his robe to reveal the hand gun underneath, "does."

Ramor stared at it contemplatively for a long moment; when he raised his eyes to meet Galen's gaze, he seemed completely unperturbed. "In that case, I want my money back."

"You already used my human for three days," Galen said, making his tone more indifferent than he felt inside. "And with the usual rates in your business, you'd still owe me money. But for the sake of getting this over with, I won't insist on it. Now call your servant to bring back my human, or I swear I'll walk you through your whole estate at gunpoint to get him myself."

Ramor scoffed again, but rang for his majordomo and ordered him to send Oklan's human to his office.

They waited in silence, the moment stretching endlessly.

"There he is," Ramor broke that silence, when the door finally opened again. "Whole and hale. You were acting as if I was sending him into a pit full of bushcats."

He gestured at Alan who was, as Galen reassured himself after a quick glance, indeed looking pretty much unchanged, except for his pale and haggard face. Well, he had probably not gotten much sleep in Ramor's employ. Galen suppressed a resigned sigh.

"Let's go," he said to Alan, and gestured for the door. "I'll make sure to warn people only to make written deals with you," he said over his shoulder to a smiling Ramor.

"I can't say I regret anything," the ape called after him. "And I've gotten my money's worth in those three days, too."

The door closed behind them before Galen could hurl a comeback at him.

When they finally stepped outside the main door, Galen took a deep breath. For the first time since they had entered Etissa, he found the cool mist soothing. "I am terribly sorry," he said, without looking at Alan. "I had no idea."

The human didn't answer, and after a long moment of silence, Galen cleared his throat. "I should be glad that I got you out of there two days early, but the reason for it isn't a pleasant one. We need your help."

He cast another glance at the human and saw to his relief that this last bit had gotten Alan's attention - his blue eyes, sunken and red-rimmed, were fixed at him. He gulped, guilt erupting in his chest like lava.

"Peet has gone missing three days ago. We... we must assume the worst."

Zana had grudgingly agreed to wait at the inn until Galen returned with Alan - even with the hand-gun under her robe, even with Betsy in her hand, Galen had been adamant that it was too dangerous for her to wait alone in Skinner Street. Besides, he had pointed out, as an ape, and armed to the teeth, she couldn't hope to track the boy; she'd only chase him away completely, into hiding holes that not even Alan would be able to find. They had to trust that he would be able to track down the boy again - as hopeless as that looked right now.

She had packed and unpacked her leather pouch for the eighth or ninth time when the door finally opened and Galen entered, followed by a tired-looking Alan. Zana drew a deep breath, and hastily stuffed the tincture of chamomile into her bag again. "Did Galen tell you what happened?"

"Yes."

Zana's hands stilled over the clasp. Alan's voice was rough, as if he hadn't talked for weeks, or shouted a lot. She looked up, and for the first time since he had entered, really looked at him.

He looked more than tired. He looked - wrung out, and pale, and... haunted. Zana stared at him, trying to put a finger on what gave her that impression.

Alan turned away, rubbing a hand over his face, and went to the stove to lift the lid of the teapot. "You mind if I drink something before we go?" he murmured.

"Sit down, Alan," Zana said, her concern mounting with every moment she watched Alan shuffle slowly, clumsily, from stove to table. He moved like an old man, or as if he was aching all over.

"You sit down," she repeated, flicking a questioning glance at Galen, who was busying himself with their weapons, "and I'll make you some fresh tea, and something to eat. You look... exhausted. Did you have to work the nights?" She didn't have too much experience with parties, but the few she remembered from her student days had lasted all night.

Alan smiled, a slow, cynical smile. "Nights and days," he said with that deep, rough voice that sounded as if it belonged to someone else.

A terrible, terrible thought bloomed in Zana's mind - what if this Ramor was part of the illegal manfighting scene in Etissa? After all, Olman had outwardly been a respectable businessman, too, the head of Tall Timber, an enterprise that supplied the whole South with wood and herbs...

... and drugs.

She surreptitiously scanned Alan for cuts and bruises, but if he had them, they were hidden under his clothing, and she couldn't order him to strip - unlike this world's humans, he and Peet were peculiar when it came to their natural nakedness.

"Alan," she said, and gently laid her hands on his shoulders, "have you been injured?"

He stared up at her for a moment, his eyes suddenly bright. Then he turned away and reached for the teapot. "I'm fine." But his hands were trembling slightly when he poured himself a mug of tea.

"Tell me about that boy again," he said, and put the pot down with a thump. "Try to describe him with as much detail as possible."

Zana slowly sank down on the chair opposite of him. Something was wrong, but right now, Peet's rescue was more urgent than even Alan's strange and disturbing state of slow unraveling.

"He was maybe chest-high... to your chest, that is," she said, trying to catch Alan's gaze; but he was staring into his mug, wrapping his hands around it to soak up its heat. "He had very dark hair, even darker than Peet's, and dark skin... although that could've also been dirt. Some of these children sleep in fire pits after the fire has died down." At least that was what one of Felga's articles had claimed.

Alan was rubbing his face again, looking even more exhausted than before. "Any... distinguishing marks?" he asked. "Anything that makes him stand out from all the other street kids populating this town?"

"He had Peet's knife," Zana said. "Other than that... well, he seemed to be the leader of a little gang of his own. The children seemed to be all younger than him, some just out of toddler age. He brought them all to safety before he faced me down."

A slight smile tugged at Alan's lips, and this time, it seemed to be genuine. "He seems to have his heart in the right place. Not an easy feat in a place like this." He emptied his mug and pushed away from the table. "Well, I better make use of the daylight. It's already past noon again... No, it's better if I go alone," he said when Zana moved to rise with him. "The way Galen had described your encounter to me, I won't have a chance to even get near him as long as I'm in the company of apes. You just have to... trust me on this."

"Of course I trust your judgment, Alan," Zana said, and silently added as long as it doesn't concern your obsession with old human cities. "You know that. But that part of town is dangerous, and you're... you seem to be..." She gestured helplessly at him. "... out of sorts... somewhat?"

Alan grimaced and turned away. "I'm just tired. But we need to track down that boy as soon as possible. So it has to be now. And it has to be me. And no one else."

"At least take this with you." Zana hurried after him and wrestled her hand gun free from under her robe. Alan stared at it, then at her.

"I don't think that's a good idea," he said slowly.

"I told you, it's dangerous there," Zana insisted. "These apes have already abducted Peet, and if they take you, too... you need to be able to defend yourself. And humans are allowed to carry weapons here, if their... if you have mine or Galen's permission. And there's no question that you have my permission to defend yourself against the unsavory examples of my people, Alan... always."

Alan regarded her with a strange, unreadable expression for a moment. "I appreciate your trust in me," he finally said, and lightly touched her arm. "But I don't trust myself with a gun right now. You could give me a bit of money, though..."

"Of course." Maybe Alan wanted to buy something to eat on the street; he hadn't touched his food at all. Or maybe he wanted to buy it to bait the boy... or to reward him. Zana grabbed a handful of sembles and pushed them into his hand. Alan took them and slipped out of the door without a word.

Zana stood there for a moment, staring at the door blade and trying to understand what was going on with Alan. Something bad had happened to him in Ramor's house, something he absolutely didn't want to talk about.

She would ask Galen - oh yes, she would ask Galen, who had slipped out of the room at some point to do Mothers knew what - and he'd answer all her questions as soon as he came back, and there would be no slipping out of rooms then.

Mothers help him if he tries to avoid me again.