Tom would gladly have continued kissing Diavla, but he was more and more acutely aware that they had an audience, so he reluctantly broke it off. Diavla and Tom stared into each other's eyes for a moment. Even with his blurry vision, he could see that Diavla's eyes sparkled and her smile could outshine the sun. Gods, she is beautiful.

“Hi,” he murmured.

“Hi,” Diavla repeated.

They stared at each other a little longer.

Varga cleared her throat, loudly. Tom blinked and took a breath, then nodded and stood up, backing away from the women. “Right. Yeah. Dinner. We should probably go to dinner.”

“Food is good!” Varga agreed, cheerfully. She and Diavla stood as well, both a bit uncomfortably close to him in the cramped room. Tom flushed a bit, then nodded to Eubexa.

“We'll send someone back with dinner for you, Eubexa. Thank you very much for your help.”

“Of course, Master. Congratulations. Congratulations, Diavla and Varga.”

The men were waiting in their room when Tom emerged, and he was about to lead them downstairs when Diavla reminded him that they needed to put collars back on. Oh! Right. Whoops. That could have been bad. We don't need trouble with the city on our last night in town. It just took a minute. Tom did his best to memorize the order the tokens went into his belt pocket this time. Orvan, Kervan, Diavla, Varga, he repeated to himself a few times. Soon after, he was leading the four elves across the street to the Floating Duck. It's likely to be rowdy on Eightnight, he noted.

He was correct. They weren't quite as early as they usually were, but still, the place was already much more crowded and a lot louder than during previous visits. They actually were unable to get a table right away. We might even have to eat somewhere else, Tom mused, looking around.

Suddenly, Varga dashed off, almost bounding like a rabbit as she wove her way rapidly through the crowd. What is she up to now? Tom followed her with his gaze, and found that she was pouncing on a table just as another group was standing up to leave. Several men stared at her curiously as she landed on a bench just vacated. Varga simply beamed at the men, and gestured for Tom and the other elves to join her.

One of these days, she's going to be bouncy and friendly to someone who doesn't care for it, and I'm going to have to rescue her from some mess or other.

For now, though, her boldness worked to their advantage, and Tom quickly led the others over to finish staking their claim. Tom looked over their group to make sure that nobody was being harassed or left behind. Moments later, Debbie arrived like a rock from a trebuchet.

“Tom, sir! And the elves! Welcome back! What'll you have?”

The elves were familiar enough with things now to place their own drink orders. Debbie recited them back, then said, “Dinner tonight is a beef and tuber mash with gravy, and yes, we have bread. How many?”

“We'll start with five, as soon as—” Tom cut himself off, reminding himself not to assume. “Orvan?”

Orvan was already standing up again. “Yes, Tom. I go.”

“Thank you, Orvan.” The others added their thanks as well.

“Right, you are! I'll bring you your drinks, and then five Orvan Specials when they're ready. If you'd care to follow me, Mr. Orvan?” Debbie led the old elf away, making rather more noise than usual as she pushed her way through the crowd. When they approached the kitchen, Tom heard Debbie bellow, “HEY, KEV! ORV IS HERE!”

A small cheer went up in that part of the tavern, to Tom's surprise. I guess someone told them where the better food was coming from. He grinned and turned back to the others. Diavla and Varga were showing off their rings to Kervan, their lively Elvish conversation far outpacing the grip Tom's soul had on the language. Tom just sat back and enjoyed the scene.

He liked the way Diavla kept looking in his direction and smiling. Varga, of course, teased Diavla about it, but stole her own glances. The redhead wiggled her eyebrows at him suggestively. Always the joker. Tom knew he was probably wearing a very smug grin, but couldn't help it. If life be a game of cards, I hold a winning hand.

More than one customer came over to ask him if he owned the elf who was cooking in the back, and to thank him. One fellow even bought him a drink. A couple also asked about Kervan, seeing his bandages, and Tom explained briefly that the elf had been robbed while on an errand for him.

It was a while before Edge showed up, which was understandable, given the crowd. The information merchant probably had a lot of important conversations scheduled that evening. When the shifty man appeared, Tom immediately signaled Debbie to bring him a round. “Welcome, Edge. How are you doing?”

“I'm doing great, my friend, just wonderfully,” Edge boasted. “I want to thank you again for this.” He gestured at his hand, bearing the golden ring with a ruby that Tom had sold to him.

“Happy to help, Edge. I gather that that ring has some significance?”

“It does.”

“Well, I don't need the details, so long as you're happy with it. I appreciate the coin.”

“I guess we both walked away from that sale satisfied, then. I was asking around for custom for your…” Edge trailed off for a moment, staring at Kervan. “What happened?”

“Someone didn't like Kervan's new hobby.” Tom described the attack, including what was taken.

“That's why Finch was asking me those questions…” Edge trailed off. “I can see why you offered a bounty. If someone used me or mine to do this, I take that personal. I'll get it cleared up as soon as I can, so your boy can get back to work without fear.”

Tom winced. “Actually, Edge, that's one of the things I wanted to tell you. Turns out, I've got urgent business in Oak Mill, and the elves and I are hitting the road tomorrow.”

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“Aw, man, that's bad news. You and your elves liven up the town. I hear you're getting into all sorts of little adventures. Going to the Temple, going to the Keep, that kind of thing.”

“As usual, you hear correctly, Edge.”

“Care to share?”

Tom lowered his voice and Edge leaned in. “You know, Edge, I owe you, but Lord Rivermarch ordered me not to tell, on pain of death.”

Edge blinked. “Pain of death, you say?”

Tom gave a small nod, and considered how much he was comfortable giving as a hint, and how much he trusted Edge's judgment. “Do you know Sage Booker, at the Library?”

“Know her? She's the love of my life!” Edge said with enthusiasm, then sighed. “If only she felt the same…” After a moment, he wrinkled his brow, and his voice took on a suspicious tone. “Why?”

“There were things I wanted to ask her, but couldn't. You're a very smart man, Edge. Just…be very careful, once you put it together. It's not something you'd want to spread widely too soon.” Tom bit his lip, then gave the short man a little more. “And…this is completely unrelated, of course…but it might be a fine time to buy jewelry for a woman you care about. I'm only saying that because I got rings for my lady elves, of course.”

Edge blinked twice. “Of course.” Did he put it together already? Maybe I said too much. Edge's soul was clearly racing, but his voice was calm and quiet. “Thank you, Tom. That sounds like important advice. I owe you one.”

“Well, I do have one new request…”

“Name it, friend.”

“Do you know who brings salt into Rivermarch, and where I might find them, tonight or tomorrow morning?”

∘ ⛥ ⛯ ⛥ ∘

Orvan returned a while later, along with Debbie, five servings of Orvan Beef Mash, and a basket. Inside it were a pot holding four servings, a spoon, and half a loaf of bread. Kervan volunteered to take the food back to Eubexa, as he seemed uncomfortable in the crowded tavern. Tom actually walked him across the street and saw that he got inside their quarters safely, then returned to the others without mishap.

When everyone finished eating, Tom decided to say a quick goodbye to Miranda. This was easier said than done, but eventually, the bartender was free long enough for a brief conversation.

“Heading out of town tomorrow? Sorry to hear that. What time?”

“Not sure.”

“Well, if you're still around an hour before noon, come on over for a better goodbye. If not, well, it's been interesting and profitable, Tom Walker.” She looked over the elves. “I think the women would like a private word with me.”

“Of course.” Tom led Orvan a short distance away while the three women talked. After a few minutes, Miranda beckoned, and Tom made his way carefully through the crowd to retrieve the elven women.

“You treat those ladies right, Tom.”

“I intend to. Thanks for everything, Miranda.”

Varga was apparently sad not to see Lily Rose, but didn't protest when they headed back to their rooms. Everyone seemed to have picked up the mild tension. They all knew that they would be leaving Rivermarch in the morning, and probably would never return.

∘ ⛥ ⛯ ⛥ ∘

Tom brought Varga and Orvan with him on his next errand—securing a second ox and wagon. Varga examined the animals and picked out a good one. The scheming thieves who owned them wanted three and a half gold for the ox and a waterproof wagon! Tom talked them down to two and a half, yet still felt that he had gotten the raw end of the deal.

Next, they made their way to North Sparrow Pier, where the Dwarf Lord Swimmer had just arrived, a barge heavily laden with salt and other materials from the north. True to his promise, Edge had passed the word. Captain Orison was happy enough to help an enterprising young buyer who wasn't afraid to put his back into his work. In exchange for the three of them helping to unload the Swimmer, Tom got a discount on the salt, getting the bags for seventy-three silver, fifty copper each. For seventy-five bags of salt, that came out to fifty-five gold, twelve silver, fifty copper, but Captain Orison waved away the last two silver and change.

I guess I am a merchant now, Tom mused, as he, Orvan and Varga finished loading their cargo. They drove to the wagon lot, and stored the new wagon next to the old one. The salt purchase had taken the majority of the gold they had left, and buying fifteen more bags from Hakeem would cost most of the remainder. They had a reasonable amount of gold in cash set aside for expenses, but aside from that…there simply wasn't much left. Their wealth would now be much harder to steal.

∘ ⛥ ⛯ ⛥ ∘

They were almost back to their rooms, when Varga started asking to return to the Floating Duck. Tom didn't want to risk anything when they were so close to departure, but told her in Western-Elvish pidgin that she could go if she found Lily Rose, and if the woman was willing to protect her and bring her back safely.

This had the unintended—on Tom's part, at least—side effect of bringing him face-to-face with Lily Rose again.

“Hello, Tom,” she called. “Did you lose an elf?”

“They keep turning up in the oddest places,” Tom answered.

The two of them looked at each other for a few moments in silence. Finally, Tom cleared his throat.

“Hey…um…I'm sorry. About the other night.”

“Don't worry about it, Tom. We were both pretty drunk.”

“Yeah, we were.” Tom fidgeted a moment. “Sorry I was such a bad kisser.”

Lily Rose waved him off. “I barely remember it, anyway. Besides, I ended up spending a nice time with Varga out of the deal. All things find their place.”

“All things find their place,” Tom agreed. “Well, thank you, for taking care of Varga. We've already had one attack today—”

“What?”

Tom blinked. “Oh, sorry, I forgot you didn't know.” Tom described the fight in the alley as related by Orvan.

“Sounds like it was aimed at Kervan specifically, but I'll be more alert, anyway. Thanks for the lookout call.”

“I appreciate it.” Tom turned to Varga. “When you go here? Hours?”

“Five or six, if I get (something).” Varga grinned. Tom had a couple of guesses what (something) was, but kept them to himself. None of my business.

“Good. Be careful, Varga.”

In response, Varga stepped closer and kissed him warmly on the lips, her hands on his arms. Then, she stepped back with a wicked grin. The redhead turned to Lily Rose and started a wild pantomime that had both humans puzzled. Tom got it first, because he had been there.

“Um…” He cleared his throat. “Varga is bragging that she taught me how to kiss this afternoon.”

“Did she, now?” Lily Rose looked at Varga, who struck a smug pose, then gestured as if inviting the woman to try Tom out.

“Varga!” Tom was stunned into a slow reaction, as usual, by Varga's surprises.

“Well, just one quick one,” Lily Rose decided, stepping up and kissing him.

Beyond protest, Tom concentrated on doing his best at kissing. Lily Rose is a friend. A kissing friend. I wouldn't have minded more with her if our circumstances had been different. When Tom focused not on the kiss, but on Lily Rose herself and how likable she was, the kiss grew warmer and more natural. It was easier to get lost in the kiss, knowing that there wouldn't be another. Finally, they stepped apart at the same moment.

“Much, much better,” Lily declared with a smile, which salved Tom's pride. “That was fun. Varga is a lucky girl.”

Tom grinned. “I'm sure she would make some innuendo here—”

Lily Rose cut him off quickly. “Don't say that word—!”

“Inn-u-en-do!” Varga doubled over laughing. “Inn-u-en-do!”

“What does it mean in Elvish?” Lily Rose demanded. “She laughed for ten minutes straight, the first time she heard that word.”

“I have no idea. That's just Varga, being Varga.”

“Inn-u-en-do!” Varga giggled.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, Pointy. Let's get moving. Tom, it's been a pleasure.”

“Likewise, Lily Rose. Thanks.”

They exchanged nods, and Tom headed back to their rooms, belatedly realizing that Orvan had quietly faded into the background and watched the whole thing. He gave the old elf a glance, who looked at him as if to say, “Finally noticed, huh?”

My life is so strange and wonderful, Tom mused, thinking ahead to who waited for him upstairs.

I am the luckiest man in the world.