“Well,” said Anya with a shy glance at the dwarves, who were still busily eating their way through breakfasts that would have stunned her and might even have been a challenge for Ardent. Erzefezonim caught her eye, smiled, and nodded.
“Well,” continued Anya, speaking to all the dwarves present, “I know you are all master craftsfolk, and I thought perhaps one of you might care to buy a snuffbox I have, because you’d appreciate it more and … and I’d get a better price than from a pawnbroker or merchant in New Yarrow. And if you did, then I’d like to buy some things from the Wizard, if they are to be had. A bag of onions, thirteen lace handkerchiefs, and a pint bottle.”
“A snuffbox?” asked Sleipjir, suddenly interested. He set down the huge heel of bread smothered in gooseberry jam he’d been gnawing on and held out his hand. “Let’s see it, then.”
Anya produced the snuffbox from her belt purse and handed it across the table. Sleipjir had only just taken hold of it when he burst into laughter.
“Ah, it’s one of mine! I made it for the Duchess of Lemmich, let me see, the one before the one before last. Or perhaps her grandmother. A little the worse for wear, I see. Where’s it been?”
“In the moat at Trallonia,” said Anya. “I did come by it fair and square, or the dogs did. It was lost and found.”
She suddenly thought of something and looked across at Bert, who was drinking her tea quietly, still looking very somber and thoughtful.
“You won’t rob it from me now, will you?”
Bert shook her head.
“Nay. As I said, that is more a guiding principle than a rule, and in any case, only applies within the bounds we set. The Good Wizard would rightly frown on any such thing here.”
“Oh good,” said Anya. She looked at Sleipjir. “Will you buy it?”
Sleipjir held the snuffbox up and turned it around, to catch the light from all angles.
“I will,” he said slowly. “But it’s dented—that’ll need fine work. And there is a diamond missing. Very hard to match. I’d have to get one in special. The resale value, oh dear, very much reduced—”
The Wizard coughed, rather meaningfully. Sleipjir looked at her and the corner of his mouth twitched.
“Ah yes,” he said. “Six gold nobles and not a penny more.”
“Thank you!” said Anya, beaming. That was more money than she’d ever had. You could buy a horse with a single noble. Or get a dozen very fine dinners.
“No, no, you’re supposed to bargain,” said Sleipjir earnestly.
“Say ‘ten nobles and not a shilling less,’ ” suggested Erzef.
“But six is plenty,” said Anya. “Unless your onions and handkerchiefs are very expensive?”
“No, no,” said the Wizard. “We’ll give them to you. I’m sure there are plenty of onions in the kitchen, and handkerchiefs galore in the linen room. Jeremy … no, who is that … Saralla, go and get a big bag of the most pungent onions we have and thirteen handkerchiefs. Bring them to the back door.”
“Oh, and a pint bottle, please,” said Anya.
“I’ll give you eight and that’s my final offer,” said Sleipjir.
“Yes, I accept,” said Anya.
“Well then, nine!” snapped Sleipjir. He reached inside the neck of his mail coat and brought out a very healthy-looking purse he wore around his neck. Opening it carefully so no one else could see inside, he counted out nine gold coins, racked them up into a column, and handed them over to Anya. She needed both hands to hold the stack, and almost spilled them putting them into her own purse.
“Have to watch out for pickpockets,” said Shrub, who had crept up to Anya’s side without her noticing. “If I still had my fingers, I’d have that off you in a trice.”
“You can guard me against other thieves,” said Anya. “I’m going to need your help in New Yarrow, for that and for getting into the League’s meetinghouse. You have to forget about the Only Stone, though.”
The newt nodded glumly.
“If you serve the princess well, Shrub, you may join us once you’re back in human form,” said Bert.
“Hey, thanks,” said Shrub, suddenly brightening. He licked both his eyes and capered in a circle for a moment. “I’ll be the best good thief in the business, you watch me!”
“Come,” said the Wizard. “The noon hour approaches, and by deep tradition and law, you must be gone. Fetch your frog and call your otter-maid, and I will show you out the back door, in case any weasel soldiers still lurk about the place.”
“What about my carpet?” asked Ardent.
“It will be there,” said the Wizard. She looked around and beckoned to the air with a crooked finger. “Jeremy, make sure a good Thirty-League Carpet is brought to the back door.”
“I will come and see you off,” said Bert. She stood, settled a full quiver on her back, and took up her longbow, tapping the six-foot wych elm stave. “There were at least two assassins we saw among the weaselfolk, and they might try a long shot. But none can shoot as far as I.”
“Or so well,” added Dehlia, leaping to Bert’s shoulder with a flap of her pale wings.
The sitting dwarves looked at one another and, as one, pushed their plates away and stood up, reaching behind their chairs to pick up battle-axes and swords.
“If any of Duke Rikard’s creatures lie in wait, they will not to do so for long,” said Erzef. She flipped her axe high in the air. It revolved three times as it fell, and she caught it by the haft. Anya flinched with every revolution and shut her eyes on the final thwap as the dwarf’s hands closed on the weapon. It looked extremely heavy and extremely sharp and not at all the sort of thing that should be thrown around.
“I’ll go get Denholm,” said Anya. “Ardent, you fetch Smoothie.”
Ardent was halfway to the stair by the fireplace when Anya shouted after him, “By fetch I mean tell her to come along!”
“I will!” barked Ardent.
Anya pushed back her chair, slowly at first and then with great determination. Visiting the Wizard had provided a welcome respite from the rigors of her Quest, but now it was time to once more go Questing!