rything--his friends, his amusements, everything you
know."

"I always thought you knew him better than I did." Juli had a fidgety
little way of coiling the links of the chain around her wrists and it
made me nervous.

"It's routine, Juli. Police work. Mostly I play by ear, but I try to
start out by being methodical."

She answered everything I asked her, but the sum total wasn't much and
it wouldn't help much. As I said, it's easy to disappear on Wolf. Juli
knew he had been friendly with the new holders of the Great House on
Shainsa, but she didn't even know their name.

I heard one of the Magnusson children fly to the street door and return,
shouting for her mother. Joanna knocked at the door of the room and came
in.

"There's a _chak_ outside who wants to see you, Race."

I nodded. "Probably my fancy dress. Can I change in the back room,
Joanna? Will you keep my clothes here till I get back?"

I went to the door and spoke to the furred nonhuman in the sibilant
jargon of the Kharsa and he handed me what looked like a bundle of rags.
There were hard lumps inside. The _chak_ said softly, "I hear a rumor in
the Kharsa, _Raiss_. Perhaps it will help you. Three men from Shainsa
are in the city. They came here to seek a woman who has vanished, and a
toymaker. They are returning at sunrise. Perhaps you can arrange to
travel in their caravan."

I thanked him and carried the bundle inside. In the empty back room I
stripped to the skin and unrolled the bundle. There was a pair of baggy
striped breeches, a worn and shabby shirtcloak with capacious pockets, a
looped belt with half the gilt rubbed away and the base metal showing
through, and a scuffed pair of ankle-boots tied with frayed thongs of
different colors. There was a little cluster of amulets and seals. I
chose two or three of the commonest kind, and strung them around my
neck.

One of the lumps in the bundle was a small jar, holding nothing but the
ordinary spices sold in the market, with which the average Dry-towner
flavors food. I rubbed some of the powder on my body, put a pinch in the
pocket of my shirtcloak, and chewed a few of the buds, wrinkling my nose
at the long-unfamiliar pungency.

The second lump was a skean, and unlike the worn and shabby garments,
this was brand-new and sharp and bright, and its edge held a razor
glint. I tucked it into the clasp of my shirtcloak, a reassuring weight.
It was the only weapon I could dare to carry.

The last