The low beamed interior of the inn was scrupulously neat and for good reason. Araawan slaves waited on the tables and cleaned as the guests came and went with businesslike expressions. "They seem so busy," Adam said softly, sticking close to Tynan and holding his hand.

"They serve s cruel master." Tynan said sagely.

"Who?"

"Money. The Dil Oil fields power much of the machines in Cor Leona and the South. These people are busy, that's all. There's always money to be made."

The innkeeper was by far more presentable than the blacksmith. His beard was coal black and shot with white and his paunch preceeded him everywhere he went. "Greetings, good masters," he said jovially. "Always a pleasure to serve the church."

"Mezen bless you," Arum said with a smile.

Tynan bowed to the innkeeper. "My master would like that we have a room, sir," he said, playing the role of servant. "And directions to the University of Vyraeus, we are unfamiliar with this region."

"Certainly," smiled the inkeeper. "My servants will take your snake to the pens." He saw the look on Arum's face. "Don't worry, good master, she'll be guarded by women, I don't abide in my guests slaves being raped."

Tynan took Arum's wrist, keeping his movements shielded. "Steady," he whispered warningly.

Arum pulled his hand free. "The pens?" he exclaimed. "The pens?! You imbecile!" He slammed his hand down on the inn's counter. "Are you blind? You don't keep slaves like this in pens - she's worth more than this whole damn inn!"

The bearded jowls of the inkeeper wobbled in fear as he glanced down. "Yes, good master, forgive me," he pleaded, bowing low. "I shall have a room prepared for her - close to yours! She is a prize, I'm sure you'd want her close. Please forgive me." Bowing again and again, he led them to the stairs to the upper rooms.

Tynan stared at the counter as Arum lifted his hand. Scorched in the wood was a burnt rosette, embers still smoking.