gleaming golden lines etched his deep brown flesh.
They caught sight of the dragonborn, froze for a moment, then headed for their table.
“Akanulans,” said the smaller dragonborn. “If not for bad luck, we’d have none at all.”
“Are you sure they’re looking for trouble?” asked the paladin.
“For a fellow who pretends to have mystical insights, you’re not much good at perceiving a danger right in front of your nose.” The ocher-scaled warrior scooted his chair back from the table, no doubt so he could get out of it quickly. His companion looked around at the advancing genasi, then did the same.
The procession fetched up in front of the dragonborn. “Having a drink?” growled the windsoul in the lead.
“As you see,” said the paladin.
“No doubt toasting your realm’s most recent victory,” said the windsoul, a little louder. Recognizing the belligerence in his tone and stance, nearby folk started edging away.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“When you sneak into another realm, butcher defenseless villagers, and then run back across the border before anyone who knows how to fight can catch you, why, that’s what Tymantherans consider a glorious triumph, isn’t it?”
The ocher-skinned dragonborn started to rise. His friend gripped his forearm and held him in his chair.
“If you’ve had news that someone slaughtered some of your countrymen,” said the paladin, “you have my condolences. Also my word that my countrymen aren’t to blame.”
“Of course,” sneered the windsoul. “How could you be, when our peoples bear such love for each other?”
“We don’t love you,” said the paladin, “but when have we ever fought you except in an honorable fashion? You have less scrupulous foes. Look to them if you want to punish the guilty.”
“Rot your lying tongue!” snarled a firesoul, his skin red-bronze and its web of lines a lambent orange. Tiny flames danced along the ones on his face and scalp. “One child saw your raiders and lived to tell the tale!”
“I say you’re the liar,” said the smaller dragonborn. He tried again to rise, but his friend still held him in place. Unfortunately, no one was holding the Akanulans, and they reached for the hilts of their daggers and swords.
“Don’t!” snapped the paladin, and the genasi faltered. Jhesrhi perceived that the russet-scaled dragonborn had infused his voice with a preternatural eloquence. “Whoever’s right, we’re in Chessenta, a valued ally to both our realms. Would you jeopardize her friendship by committing mayhem in the very heart of her capital? Let’s at least defer this quarrel to another place and time.”
For a moment, Jhesrhi thought his powers of persuasion had prevailed. Then the firesoul shouted, whipped his sword from his scabbard, and cut. The paladin jerked backward, and the blade just missed his reptilian face.
He and his friend sprang to their feet, scrambled back, and snatched for their swords. The other genasi, seven of them altogether, drew their blades as well.
It didn’t matter that Jhesrhi and her comrades were out of uniform. They were peace officers, and it was their duty to stop the brawl. She wished she’d brought her staff-wished, too, that the tavern weren’t so crowded. There were more than a dozen people between the combatants and her-the majority seemed eager to watch exotic outlanders slash one another to pieces-and if she wasn’t careful, her spells would strike them instead of their intended targets.
She finessed the problem by jumping up and stamping her foot. The ground under the floor bucked. Some people fell, and others staggered off balance. Jugs and bottles lurched from the shelves behind the bar to smash on the floor.
“I’m an officer of the city guard!” she cried. “Put up your weapons now!”
“Where’s her insignia?” someone asked.
“Forget that,” replied somebody else, “why isn’t the bitch’s hand marked!”
Recovering their balance, some of the Akanulans peered at her. Then a watersoul, his skin sea green with turquoise lines running through it, barked a laugh. “You think you can make elemental magic work against genasi?”
She drew breath to repeat her command, but she never got the chance. A windsoul flew up into the air and toward her. Unfortunately, there was just enough space between the ceiling and the crowd’s heads to accommodate his passage. A firesoul whipped his hand up and down in a gesture that suggested leaping flame. Twisting back and forth like a serpent, a streak of yellow fire raced across the floor. Recognizing that they hadn’t achieved a safe distance from the violence after all, the people between Jhesrhi and her attackers screamed and tried to scramble out of the way.
Straining to exert enough power without her staff, in the enclosed space, Jhesrhi whispered words of power to the wind. It forsook the flying genasi, and, deprived of its support, he crashed to the floor. It blew out the fire serpent like a candle. And in the moment afterward, before her opponents could gather themselves to assail her again, she peered to see what was happening elsewhere.
His medallion and the blade of his sword both shining like the moon, the dragonborn paladin was trading cuts with the windsoul who’d first accosted him. His fellow Tymantheran was fighting an earthsoul and a purple-skinned stormsoul at the same time.
Khouryn had somehow managed to engage the three remaining Akanulans-a firesoul, an earthsoul, and a watersoul-simultaneously, and without drawing his urgrosh from its sling. Evidently hoping to subdue the genasi without causing them irreparable harm, he was wielding a chair as a combination club and shield.
The dwarf was as able a hand-to-hand combatant as Jhesrhi had ever seen. But the genasi were competent too, and had the advantages of numbers and real weapons. The firesoul slashed with his dagger, and it flared like a torch in midstroke. Khouryn shifted the rapidly splintering chair to block the attack. That left him open to the earthsoul on his flank, who instantly raised his broadsword for a head cut.
An arrow appeared, transfixing the earthsoul’s forearm. Jhesrhi turned her head. As an archer, Gaedynn had faced the same problem she had-how to attack at range in the crowded room without hitting a noncombatant. He’d solved it by climbing up on a tabletop amid the remains of somebody’s sausage-and-beans supper.
The earthsoul snapped the arrow off short so it wouldn’t get in his way. He also stamped his foot as Jhesrhi had. Another shock jolted the tavern, and one of the legs of Gaedynn’s table broke. It pitched over, spilling him to the floor amid a rain of dirty, clattering pewter plates and cups. The earthsoul rushed him.
Jhesrhi wanted to help Gaedynn. But then the windsoul she’d knocked out of the air picked himself up off the floor. He and his partner the firesoul charged her together, and she had to look after herself.
She spoke to the wind. It picked up the table in front of her and threw it. The missile smashed into the windsoul and knocked him flat on his back. But it missed the firesoul.
Backsword exploding into blue and golden flame, he closed the distance, cut, and curse it, she was caught in the corner! Somehow she dodged anyway, one searing, dazzling stroke and then another, meanwhile rattling off an incantation.
She thrust out her hand with three fingers curled. Green mist steamed from the firesoul’s pores. He staggered and fumbled his grip on his sword, nearly dropping it.
The magical weakness would only last a couple of heartbeats, but she intended to make good use of the time. She grabbed a chair, heaved it high, and smashed it over the firesoul’s head. He collapsed.
Panting, she looked for her other opponent. He was still down. While beyond him, Gaedynn had his Akanulan down on the floor and was hammering punches into his face.
Khouryn had felled both his remaining opponents and moved to help the smaller Tymantheran. The dwarf had engaged the dragonborn’s earthsoul opponent, leaving the stormsoul for him to battle. As the latter genasi feinted and stabbed with a knife in either hand, sparks danced and crackled across his skin.
The paladin and his windsoul adversary circled, blades clanging. The air howled, lifted the genasi off his feet, and whirled him widdershins. The paladin spun barely in time to parry the thrust that would otherwise have plunged into his back.
In other words, one instant, everyone was in furious motion. And the next, or so it seemed, before Jhesrhi could even decide where to intervene, everything was over.
Gaedynn paused, considered his adversary, and then, evidently satisfied, left off punching him.
Khouryn stabbed the tip of a chair leg into his earthsoul’s groin, then bashed him in the face when his knees
