Not speaking, Bankerra shoved her way through the streets of Freeport. People seemed to be dodging out of her way, no doubt due as much to the weapons she carried as to her intimidating air. I hurried along in her wake, noticing for the first time how small I was compared to these humans. The walls of the city loomed over me. Everyone seemed so crowded and rushed. There wasn't enough space.
Thinking of what Father would say to that thought, I reminded myself that not everyone felt at home in the trees. Sometimes, when Mother's merchant friends came to bring imported goods to her shop in Kelethin, she'd sent me to meet them on the ground under the city and coax them onto the lifts. Once we got up on a platform, I'd race ahead along the rope bridges, turning sharply onto ramps, only to hear them yelling from far behind. I'd turn back the way I came to find them clinging to a railing, staring downward, unable to go on. Back then their fear was a source of great amusement to me, but now I thought I understood.
"Elf!" shouted Bankerra. I'd gotten a little behind her. "This way!" Quickly, I invoked the spirit of the wolf, and raced to catch up as she turned a corner.
"How'd you do that?" Bankerra stopped as I reached her. "You run really fast!"
"I'm a druid," I said. "Which you would have known if you'd bothered asking." I concentrated on her for a moment and invoked the spirit again.
Bankerra jumped, staring at her hands as the blue aura surrounded her. "Hey!" she said, "What is this? You better not be casting a spell on me! I swear on my father's grave I'll --"
I laughed, I couldn't help it. "I did," I said. She scowled. Quickly, I added, "Run a few steps and you'll see what it's for."
Still frowning, she dashed away and came back. "Hm," she said, "Not bad. I could use something like this when those griffons come to our camp." She grinned. "Thanks, Elf. Hey, do you like to hunt orcs?"
"I have to find my uncle," I said. "But perhaps another time."
"Suit yourself," she said, dashing off again. I followed.
A moment later, we stopped. "What's that say?" she said, jerking her head toward a sign.
"Freeport Market. Are we here?"
"Yeah. I always wondered what that said." She pointed across a small open square. "That's the place. See you, Elf."
"Goodbye," I said to her back as she rushed off. Warriors didn't have very good manners, I decided. One had scarred Ninian's hand, and this one had taken my lunch. Bankerra had shown me to the Jade Tiger, though, and I had to be grateful for that.
The bartender looked at Father's scroll and confirmed that Zophia Stormcaller did live upstairs. "Number six," he said, "But I dunno if he's there."
"That's okay," I said, "I'll just check."
I climbed the stairs, found the room, and stood there for a moment. Father hadn't told Uncle Zophia I was coming. I wished I were home, or even back on the dock with Ninian. Then I took a deep breath and knocked.
The door opened a tiny crack. One bright red eye glared out. "Who are YOU?" said a voice like a box full of injured snakes.
I stepped back. "Gwion," I managed. It came out a little higher than normal. I cleared my throat. "I'm looking for my Uncle Zophia."
The door swung open to reveal an angry drow woman. She wore very little, even less than I did when relaxing at home. One indigo arm rested on her hip. Her white hair looked like she hadn't been out of bed long. The room behind her was dark.
"Zophia has no siblings," she said, "Therefore he cannot be your uncle, therefore you are a liar. Good day." The door slammed shut, the latch clicked.
"Uh," I said through the door. I didn't want to knock again. I sat down on the floor in the hall. I'd come a long way over a choppy sea in a leaky boat just to get a view of that door. I'd been scared by a cardshark with bad breath, dragged through crowds, stepped on by ogres, cursed by gnomes, and almost gotten in a fight with somebody a lot bigger than me who'd taken the only meal I'd seen in two days. I was tired, and hungry, and I was going to get in that damned room and say hello to my damned uncle and get the hell out of this horrible place.
I leapt to my feet and pounded on the door. "Let me in!" I shouted. "By Tunare's teeth! He's not my real uncle! If anyone around here would let me explain anything, I'm --"
The door opened again. "Hello, Gwion," said a tall man. His ears were pointed like mine, but he was the size of a human. He smiled beneath a grey-streaked moustache. "I am Zophia Stormcaller." He took my hand and led me into the dimness of the room. "You'll have to excuse my lovely wife," he said, gesturing toward the drow woman who now sat scowling in a nearby armchair. "We're up a little earlier than usual today, aren't we, Tinna?"
"Tinna Dammerung to you," she growled, "Servant of Innoruuk, Avatar of Hate. Pleased to make your acquaintance." I heard quotation marks around the word "pleased."
I swallowed. "My father is --"
"Llewellyn the Scholar. Yes, yes, I know. He told me of your birth some time ago. But he didn't tell us you were coming."
"I, uh, well, he said to say hi." I shouldered my pack. "Now I think I'll just go home." I started toward the door.
"STOP!" Tinna shouted. I turned toward her. I was so tired, I didn't care what she did -- scratch my eyes out, turn me into a lizard, I couldn't feel much worse.
"Your nutrition has obviously been inadequate," she snapped. "You must not leave until we have given you food."
I blinked, puzzled. "Gwion," said Uncle Zophia warmly, "Would you like to stay for dinner?"
