Father seemed to know where he was going, and we reached the Jade Tiger in North Freeport just as the sky began to turn dark. He stopped at the door of the Inn and turned to me.
"Gwion," he said, "My daughter, my only child." He brushed the hair away from my face. "This encounter will be difficult for both Zophia and me."
I took his hand. "I know," I said. He opened his mouth to say something else, but I interrupted. "I know. I'll be quiet. I promise."
Father smiled. "You do understand," he said. He took a deep breath. "All right," he said. "Let's go."
We climbed the stairs toward the apartments over the Inn. I reached the door first, and knocked. It opened, a tiny crack at first, and then swung wide. Zophia grabbed me, and catching me up in a life-threatening embrace, dragged me into the room.
"You're all right," he said. "Oh, thank the Mother. You're all right!" Without letting me go, he turned his head and shouted, "Tinna!"
Tinna came out of the kitchen, holding a large stalk of celery in one hand. "So, there you are, Gwion," she said. "Zophia, do not continue to squash our guest in that fashion."
"Oh! Sorry!" Uncle Zophia dropped his arms and beamed at me, but only for a second. He grabbed me again, this time more gently. "We thought you were dead," he said.
Tinna smirked. "Perhaps you thought so," she said, "I am sure you remember how I predicted that Gwion would be resourceful enough to withstand a few days of wandering about in the Commonlands."
"Well!" Uncle Zophia let me go at last, and ushered me toward an armchair. "Please, sit down. Now, you must tell us everything that happened since you left us. Did you--"
My father cleared his throat.
Zophia's head swiveled toward the doorway. Then he stood there, an expression of surprise frozen on his face. He didn't move, or say anything, and neither did Father. I squirmed. This was horrible. Finally, Tinna broke the silence.
"Llewellyn," she said, nodding her head, as if she were greeting someone she'd seen only the day before.
"Tinna!" said Father, with a little too much joviality. "It's been a long time, hasn't it. How are you?" He smiled broadly.
"I must see to the stew," she said, walking into the kitchen. I looked at Zophia. He was still standing there by my chair, his arms at his sides. The surprised expression had gone, but no other had taken its place.
"Zophia." Father crossed the room to stand near us. "My friend. Thank you. Thank you for helping my daughter." He spoke sincerely, and I could see how important this meeting was to him. He extended a hand.
Without warning, without saying a word, Uncle Zophia stepped back, swung his fist, and punched my father in the face.
Father, completely unprepared, caught the full impact of the swing. He crumpled to the floor and stayed there, not moving. I screamed and flew toward him, hoping to shield him from the rest of the blows I knew would come.
When none did, I looked back at Zophia. He still hadn't spoken, but he was rubbing his knuckles.
Tinna came back and surveyed the scene for a second. Then she glared at Zophia. "Really," she snapped. "Zophia, this is not the most intelligent choice you have ever made."
Zophia looked helplessly at her. "My hand hurts," he said.
"I am not surprised." Tinna knelt on the floor and examined my father. "He is unconscious, but he will be all right," she pronounced. "Fortunately, Zophia's training did not include hand-to-hand combat." She stood up and went back into the kitchen.
Zophia came toward us, then leaned over and looked at me, his hands on his knees. "I'm sorry," he said. "I don't know, I just--well, I couldn't--" He hung his head.
I started to cry. Bringing Father here had been the stupidest idea I'd ever had. "Now you'll never make up," I wailed, "And it's all my fault!"
"No, Gwion." Uncle Zophia put his arm around me, but I slapped it away and covered my face with my hands. I wasn't going to look at the man who'd just knocked my father out.
"You must put this right." I looked up to see Tinna, now fully dressed in her armor, holding a bottle of ale and a roll of bandages. She handed them to Zophia. "You know what to do."
She turned to me. "Tears serve no purpose," she said. "Now stand up. You and I will leave these two children to their arguing."
"Tinna!" Uncle Zophia and I both protested. We looked at each other, then at her.
"Get your things," she said to me. "This is not your battle, Gwion, nor mine. I have tired of it."
"But where will you go?" Uncle Zophia mopped his forehead with the bandages.
"I need new boots," Tinna said. "Gwion and I will travel to Velious for some ulthork hides. We will be gone for one day, or perhaps two. And the both of you will continue your discussion."
"You can't leave me here with him!" Zophia pointed to my father. "He'll kill me when he wakes. And I have no magic! I cannot defeat him!"
Tinna slowly turned to face her husband. For a moment, I thought she'd hit him, but instead, she stared into his face, her eyes like flaming brands. "Then your apology will have to be quick," she hissed. "Ever since that day in South Karana, I have borne your complaints, your endless whining. I have heard it all a thousand times!"
She whipped around and pointed down at my father. "There he is! You are together again!" I trembled, having forgotten how badly her voice scared me. "You must speak to him, Zophia," she cried, "For if you continue this pointless feud, I will kill you both with my bare hands!"
Zophia gaped at her. She wasn't joking. I tried to shrink into the floor, but Tinna caught me by the arm and dragged me up. "Goodbye, Zophia," she said, propelling me out into the hall.
She slammed the door shut. "Wait here," she said. She continued down the stairs, and I stood there in the hall, afraid for my father, afraid for Uncle Zophia, and very angry at both of them. I thought of going back in, but I knew it would do no good.
A few moments later, Tinna returned, bringing with her a tiny gnome. In one hand, the gnome carried a toolbox; the other hand continually adjusted a huge pair of goggles that almost hid his face.
"This is the one," Tinna said, pointing to the door.
The gnome set the toolbox down and stood up close to the door. "Hmm," he said.
"Who is he?" I whispered, as the gnome continued to peer at the doorknob.
"A friend," Tinna said. "We are lucky that he was downstairs in the bar. He is a locksmith."
"But there's only a latch," I said.
Tinna shushed me. "Can you do it?" she asked the gnome.
He nodded. "It'll cost ya," he said.
Tinna handed him a bag of coins. "Two days, Bortimulus," she said. "No escape. I want it locked and warded, do you understand? And the window, too."
Bortimulus bowed. "Of course," he said. "I do quality work. Once I install these locks, nobody's getting out of there until at least Thursday." He pushed the goggles up onto the top of his little bald head. "Naturally, you'll be able to get in--if you want to get in--but only with that counterspell I gave you."
"Wait!" I said. "Tinna, two days?"
"There is enough food," she said. "And there is ale."
"But they'll kill each other!"
Bortimulus looked up at me. "I've done this before, in a similar situation," he said. "They'll be all right. Ever been stuck with somebody, really stuck?" I shook my head, and he grinned. "They'll go crazy if they don't talk to each other," he said. "And nobody really wants to go crazy."
"That is my hope," Tinna said. She took me by the shoulder and spun me toward the stairs. "We must go," she said. "Now."
"But!" I couldn't stand to think of what might happen.
"Velious awaits us, Gwion," Tinna said, starting down the stairs.
Dragging my feet just a little, I followed her. Whatever awaited us in Velious, I hoped that it would not involve any more arguments.
