on land and after several months it loses its gills and takes on masculine attributes. If it chooses to become female, it goes to live beneath the waves and loses its lungs instead. It is said that when a native man peers into the coastal waters of Mag Mell, he sees the woman he might have been. He can ask her questions and she will answer with the wisdom of the woman he is not.

Stil-Eret,'Mag Mell:World of Mirrors;' from Travels at Home and Abroad

ilverdun had visited the world of Mag Mell once as a very young man. He'd traveled here with his father on holiday. Now that it occurred to him, he was fairly certain he owned the house on Isle Dureicth where they'd stayed. Or at least he should.

Silverdun remembered Mag Mell as being warm and bright, but when they stepped through the Port-Herion Chancery Lock, they were greeted with dim light and a stiff chill. The arch on the Mag Mell side of the gate was located underground, Silverdun remembered. When the warping mists of the lock left his eyes, he saw a long stone ramp leading upward toward a stout metal gate, and more dim light beyond. Powerful witchlight chandeliers hung from the ceiling, but they weren't quite capable of dispelling the sepulchral feel of the place.

Or perhaps that was only Silverdun's imagination. The delegation of jewelry guildsmen that stepped through the gate just behind them were jolly enough. They had laughed and spoken loudly all the way through the customs check on the Faerie side of the gate, which seemed to have lasted for hours, and their temper hadn't changed now. One of them, in fact, was still speaking to Silverdun about his guild's mission to negotiate mineral rights with a mining consortium on one of the southern islands. Silverdun and Ironfoot were both dressed as minor government officials, and Silverdun supposed that this was the sort of thing that such people were forced to endure on a daily basis.

As they proceeded up the ramp toward the gate, Ironfoot looked around brightly, taking it all in. They could have done much worse in their selection. He barely knew Ironfoot and already he felt as though they'd been working together all their lives. The binding ring? Perhaps, but if so, it was a wonderful spell, because Silverdun found that he genuinely liked the man.

Had Silverdun ever had a friend of his own social rank? Maybe he wasn't cut out to be a lord after all.

At the top of the ramp, they were subjected to Mag Mell customs agents who were, sadly, quite a lot more efficient and friendly than their Seelie counterparts. They looked more or less like Fae, although they were darker of skin, and had rounded ears like the Nymaens, like Silverdun's old traveling companion Brian Satterly. The agents inspected Silverdun's and Ironfoot's Foreign Ministry identification closely, but waved them through without question.

Past the metal gate at the top of the ramp, they rounded a corner and stepped outside into a light rain that dotted the sea like ground pepper all around the tiny island that housed the gate. A ferry waited to take them to Isle Cureid, the capital.

'Lord Silverdun!' came a voice behind them.

Baron Glennet, Silverdun's dinner partner from a few months before, had just emerged from the gate and was hurrying toward them, followed by a small retinue of aides and attendants.

'Baron,' said Silverdun. He was aware of Everess's approval of the man, but he couldn't decide whether that made him trust Glennet more, or less.

'I saw you on my way through the lock, but I just missed being in your group. I'm glad I was able to catch up with you.'

He turned to Ironfoot. 'You must be Master Falores from Queensbridge. I've heard a lot about you.'

'A pleasure,' said Ironfoot.

Glennet leaned in and whispered, 'I wanted to wish you luck on your errand in Annwn.'

Silverdun smiled. 'We'll do our best,' he said. 'What brings you to Mag Mell?'

'Work, as always,' he said. 'Trying to negotiate a better price for silver ore on behalf of the Smiths' Guild.'

'Your works sounds like all sorts of fun,' said Silverdun.

'Less dangerous than yours, anyway,' said Glennet with a knowing smile.

They were all met at the ferry by a matronly woman named Glienn, who was the Seelie ambassador's second- in-command. The jewelry guildsmen had met their contact on the island, and they were already happily getting drunk on the other side of the ferryboat.

Glienn was welcoming, but a bit circumspect, and exchanged only pleasantries while they were at sea. When they reached the docks on Isle Cureid, there was a hansom cab waiting for Glienn, Silverdun, and Ironfoot. Glennet had arranged his own transportation, and they parted with the requisite pleasantries.

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