"In my three years' docking at Lion's Arch," Tarb barked loudly, "I've heard nothing but 'island fortress' this and 'ultimate protection' that. Cobiah, you say these defenses are critically important, but you also say they'll take years to finish. How long can we sit around waiting for stone and lumber, construction and shoring, before we turn our attention to a better market plaza? Or hire more guards to keep our s.h.i.+ps and cargo safe? I'm all for keeping those monsters out of our harbor, but I'm not willing to wait ten years to build a bank."

Nodobe leaned back in his wicker chair. "A bank is extremely necessary to the town's growth, Tarb. You're quite correct. Port n.o.ble doesn't have a bank, so we'd be solidifying our place as a preferred port for neutral s.h.i.+pping concerns. Traders interested in dealing with bulk goods, or large sums, would be more likely to come to Lion's Arch."

Cobiah grabbed the table's attention, not wanting to give the smooth-spoken Elonian an opportunity to sway the audience. "Moran," he tossed in quickly. "You're quiet. What are your thoughts?"

"I'm thinking that most of you are blind idiots, to tell the truth." Ever blunt, old Moran sighed and scratched his scalp beneath his thick shock of gray hair. "All plans and no foundation. Where's the money to pay for the defenses, or the bank, or the attack s.h.i.+ps . . . or, by the Mists, your furless Aunt Maybell's parlor house, if that's what the town needs! Every one of you is snapping jaw about how you're going to spend money, but n.o.body's said word one about how we're going to get it."

"I believe I can help with that." A smarmy voice from the doorway made Cobiah turn sharply in his chair. The voice came from Yomm, the asuran merchant. With a smug tilt to his chin, Yomm trotted toward the long table. He wasn't alone, either; a norn was with him, walking slowly so as to keep pace with the merchant. With a start, Cobiah recognized the norn as Bronn Svaard. Further, Bronn was carrying a sack over his shoulder, much like the one Sykox had been carrying earlier that morning. But this sack was not filled with machine parts and engine tools. Bronn dropped it on the table at an insistent wave of Yomm's hand, and the entire group heard the unmistakable clink-clink of coins.

"I'm here to buy a seat at the table." Yomm's long ears flicked back determinedly. He met each captain's eye with unflinching resoluteness, defying them to say no. Everyone froze for a moment, shocked by the shopkeep's bra.s.s. This was unheard of.

"Yomm, you blithering idiot," Gr.i.m.j.a.w snorted. "You're no captain. You've no s.h.i.+p! Don't waste our time with this skale-headed bilge."

Shooting the arrogant charr a black look, Cobiah tried to soften the blow. "I know you're worried about the discussion on fixed prices, Yomm, but he's right. The law says you must be an established captain before you can pay the regency fee and join the council."

"You think I don't know that?" The asura's green eyes narrowed haughtily. He rounded on Gr.i.m.j.a.w without fear. "It so happens that I've purchased a s.h.i.+p, you slack-jawed mouth-breather. Her name is the Nadir s.h.i.+ll. And, before you insult my intelligence any further, I've hired a crew as well."

"He has," Bronn added blithely. "He's hired me and my brother, Grymm."

"Only two?" Gr.i.m.j.a.w guffawed. "Smallest crew ever! What're you sailing, Yomm? A cork with a toothpick mast?"

"That's no business of yours, mongrel." Stiffening at the charr's laughter, Yomm nevertheless waved the argument away. "I've obeyed the law in letter and spirit. I've brought the entire regency fee, in cash, and my first mate to boot. You can't keep me out any longer."

"Not entirely true, Yomm." Isaye's voice was serenely neutral. Cobiah was grateful for her ability to stay calm; it was a rarity among the captains of Lion's Arch. She continued. "There's one more thing. You also need the approval of a majority of the council in session."

"Well, by the Mists, he's got mine." Moran stared at the bulging sack of money. "That coin will go far toward any of the plans you lot have proposed, so I'm all for it." The old captain was clearly amused by the discomfort around the table. "He's got my vote."

Nodobe thoughtfully rubbed his clean-shaven jaw. "The laws of the town are clear, and the shopkeep has obeyed them. Even if we don't like his methods, we cannot deny that Yomm already has a great deal of investment in the city. I suppose . . . very well. I accept him in our number."

Dubious, Cobiah frowned. "Well, I don't." He glared at Yomm angrily. "Look, Yomm. If we allow anyone with coin and a seaworthy bathtub to buy their way onto the council, the city's going to be overrun by greedy profiteers. Maybe King Baede will send a hundred captains to buy seats and then vote to annex Lion's Arch back into Kryta." The idea sp.a.w.ned several uncertain grumbles around the table, and he added, "Yomm, you're only doing this to get back at Gr.i.m.j.a.w. You don't care about the city. You just want power. I find that unacceptable. My vote is no."

"By the Khan-Ur's metal claws, I actually agree with a human." Gr.i.m.j.a.w snorted, his dark stripes rippling with amus.e.m.e.nt. Leaning back, he thumped one boot and then the other onto the table's surface, tail flicking in annoyance. "I vote we don't let the little gouger make idiots of us all. And I still say we go attack Orr!"

Cobiah wasn't sure he enjoyed being on the same side as the arrogant charr. With a sigh, he looked toward Hedda and Tarb and tried to predict their reactions. Hedda looked thoughtful, eyes lingering on the money satchel with obvious interest. Tarb, on the other hand, never stopped staring at Yomm. His expression was difficult to read, but his ears flicked back and forth against his shoulders as if twitching away a wasp.

"I suppose," Hedda said at last, "we could see our way clear to accepting his regency and allowing Yomm on the council." She shrugged, the motion rippling down her fleshy arms. "What harm can a little thing like him cause? It's not like he's buying the whole city. The rest of us can disagree with him in council."

"That's two nos and three yeses," Cobiah tallied. "Tarb? Isaye?"

Tarb sat in silence, arms crossed over his chest. When he realized all eyes were on him, the asura captain grumbled under his breath and s.h.i.+fted belligerently in his seat. At last, he proclaimed simply, "I vote no." His lips twisted in sour disapproval.

"Tarb's Dynamics, like me," Macha whispered conspiratorially into Cobiah's ear. "Yomm's Statics."

Cobiah turned and gave her a blank stare.

"Colleges," she prompted. When Cobiah's face remained expressionless, Macha clenched her fists to her ears in frustration. "Asuran colleges? They have fierce rivalries. It's a well-established fact in asuran society that we sabotage each other whenever given the opportunity . . . Coby, don't you ever listen to my stories when we're at sea?"

"I listen to the ones where stuff blows up." He grinned unhelpfully. Macha squeezed her eyes shut and muttered something under her breath. He turned toward Isaye and asked, "Three and three. Your vote will decide, Isaye."

Isaye ignored their whispers. Thoughtfully, she stated, "You aren't a sailor, Yomm. I understand your dissatisfaction with the process, but it doesn't change the reasons we chose captains to run it and not the townsfolk. Captains are capable of commanding a crew in life-threatening situations. Lion's Arch is under threat from Orrian attack. Only those who can-and have-put their lives on the line against the Dead s.h.i.+ps have the right to make decisions for this port. We pay for that right in more than gold. Many of us have paid for it with the blood of our sailors."

"I could be useful against the Dead s.h.i.+ps!" Yomm bl.u.s.tered. Angrily, he rushed on. "Sailing isn't everything. I could import weaponry for the townsfolk-"

"That doesn't help us," Isaye repeated gently, shaking her head. "Orrians come from the sea. We need s.h.i.+ps in the harbor to defend the village. Invested captains who can and will fight for the town where we need it the most. Villagers flailing about with swords aren't going to stop a Dead s.h.i.+p's attack. Yomm, you don't sail. You're not a real captain."

"I don't sail, hmm?" Yomm crossed his arms and his tone turned nasty. "I . . . well-" Suddenly struck with inspiration, Yomm jabbed a finger toward Cobiah. "Ha! Neither does he! When was the last time anyone saw the Pride leave the harbor? Half of her crew's out on other s.h.i.+ps or looking for work. Like you, Isaye, with that Krytan tub of yours. Or this big bookah." Yomm jerked a thumb toward Bronn, ignoring the norn's snort of surprise. "Cobiah Marriner spends all his time in the city. Everyone knows his engineer's insane, his crew's disbanded, and his first mate's a murderous scallywag who's been in more fights than a drunken skritt. If Cobiah's your idea of a 'real captain,' then by the sparks and atherions of the Eternal Alchemy, I'm one, too." Yomm tossed his head and dared the council to disagree.

A mutter ran through the group, and at the head of the table, Nodobe laughed out loud. Heat flushed Cobiah's face. Before he could stammer an indignant reply, Tarb sighed with annoyance and sat back in his chair. "Yomm's got a point," the asura said grudgingly. The captains erupted into shouts, yelling opinions one over the other.

Hedda banged a fist on the table, shutting them all up. "Captain Isaye hasn't voted yet. Let her speak. The rest of you, shove it in your brig and let her talk." She placed her hands on the table, red-painted nails sc.r.a.ping like claws against the hard wood. "Well, Isaye?"

The room fell silent, staring at Isaye. The dark-haired woman steepled her fingers before her lips in thoughtful concentration. Cobiah could tell she was weighing the arguments that had been given. In frustration, he clenched his fists beneath the table and struggled to remain silent. At last, Isaye met Cobiah's eyes and then Nodobe's, finally settling on Yomm. "All right, Yomm," she said at last. "The council has never set guidelines on how often a captain has to be at sea if they're to be considered master of their s.h.i.+p. I have to admit that you meet all the other requirements. We'll have to clarify the rules . . . but we can't hold you accountable to laws that haven't been made yet. For now, you're acceptable by all the standards we have in place for Lion's Arch. Welcome to the council." However well reasoned, her words felt like a slap in the face.

Angry, Cobiah pushed away from the table and stood. "I think that's enough business for today." At his side, Macha's dark glower matched his tone perfectly. "Council is in session for a week. We can meet tomorrow to talk about how we spend Yomm's . . ." Cobiah waved at the bag of money on the table. "Regency." The word was bitter.

"Captain Yomm," the shopkeep said, gloating.

"Don't push it, you sniveling rat," hissed Macha, her hand falling to the hilt of a pistol at her belt. The two glared at each other for a moment, and then Yomm tossed his head and looked away.

"Cobiah," Isaye protested.

"Fine. You made your choice. The vote's done." Pretending not to see Isaye's hurt look, Cobiah turned on his heel and ignored the sputtered arguments behind him. He heard Isaye rise from the table. Even Bronn reached to stop him. "Sorry, Coby," the norn said pensively. "Times are hard. I need the job to support my children. You understand, yes, my friend?"

Shoving the norn's hand from his shoulder, Cobiah marched on. He could hear Macha trotting along behind him, multicolored braids flapping across her shoulders as she hurried to keep up. Once they were outside the gate, she grumbled, "Was that really necessary? The tantrumy-storming-out part? They still have a quorum. They could continue the meeting and you won't be there-"

"They won't continue the meeting." Cobiah took the wide steps of the pavilion two at a time and didn't care who was in his path.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Yomm just joined the council. He's not going to want to vote on anything until he's knows what's going on, and that means he's going to want exhaustive argument on every issue. That'll take a while." Cobiah's tone lightened a bit but lost none of its sharpness. "Trust me."

"Fair." Macha grunted. "Poor Bronn."

"Poor Bronn?" Cobiah rounded on her, his last nerve frayed raw. "That traitorous braggart. I'd like to see him keelhauled!"

"For what? Not wanting to starve?"

"He's a member of my crew! He works my s.h.i.+p!"

With an unkind laugh, Macha snapped, "He was a member of your crew, but he's not now. He has to make money somehow, Coby. Yomm's right about one thing: the Pride's always at port. We don't go raiding, or adventuring, or even pirating. Most of us have jobs on the side. Half the Havoc's old warband work as night guards on the dock, and Sykox spends his time repairing busted-up s.h.i.+ps to be used as buildings. He hasn't worked on the Pride's engine in months, but you wouldn't know that. You're always on land, pandering to merchants and planning out the town."

Her words stung. "What about you, Macha? Have you started taking jobs, too?"

"No." She stiffened brusquely. "The only thing I want to do, Coby, is sail with the Pride. But you've got to wake up and look around." Macha tugged awkwardly on her bright braids as she rushed to keep up. "Tell me something. I heard Sykox say this morning that you were going to ask Isaye to marry you. Is that true?"

"I've thought about it," he answered, puzzled. "Why?"

"Is that what's making you so invested in this city? Get married, settle down . . . I mean, the way you light up when she comes into port. That big house you're building on the north sh.o.r.e. You know, the one with the high bedroom and the view of the harbor?" Macha's eyes twinkled. "You built it for her, didn't you? Love is positively smeared all over your face."

"I have to sleep somewhere!"

"You used to sleep on the Pride," Macha teased. "C'mon." He still didn't answer, and Macha's smile faded into genuine curiosity. "What if she says no?"

Cobiah reddened. "I don't know. I hadn't really thought about what I'd do then." Cobiah paused to look around, taking in the pleasant streets and freshly painted buildings. "Look at this wonderful town we've made, Macha. Isaye was a big part of that. Without her, I don't know if I could even live in Lion's Arch. Seeing the city, every day, without her? It'd remind me too much of . . . what we had."

"Yeah." Macha nodded, patting his hand. "I understand that. Don't worry, Cobiah. I'm sure she'll say yes. What's there to say no about? You're scoundrelous, violent, unpredictable, and utterly incorrigible."

He laughed out loud. "Thanks, Macha."

"You wouldn't be able to make it without me, and you know it. We're a team." Narrowing her eyes, she rushed on, changing the subject abruptly. "So, Yomm has a council seat. What will happen now?"

Somewhat abashed, Cobiah answered, "I guess I should apologize to Isaye."

Macha rolled her eyes. "That's not what I'm asking, loverboy. Sheesh, you have a mind like a dolyak following a carrot. I'm asking what's going to happen to the city."

Cobiah sighed and looked out at the docks. He could see blue water through the jagged spiderwebs of open alleyways, and he could hear the shouts of sailors on the tugs, bringing a clipper into its mooring. "Yomm's on the council. He gets a vote. Most likely, he'll quell any argument about standardizing prices in the town-or bringing in a bank or other shops. He'll fight against anything that could jeopardize his control of trade. He's got enough money to pay off some of the other captains, or at least to promise funding for their pet projects if they go along with his ideas."

"That's bad." Macha worked the figures in her head. "If Yomm manages to get his way with s.h.i.+pping and sales tariffs, he'll control trade through Lion's Arch. Captains will have to go through him to unload their wares or load new stores aboard their s.h.i.+ps. He'll eventually rule Lion's Arch de facto, no matter what the council says."

She grabbed Cobiah's sleeve, jerking him around to face her. "What then, Coby?" The little mesmer's eyes were dark pools of shadow.

"He'll get greedy, like he always does, and he'll raise prices. Captains won't want to pay his fees. s.h.i.+ps will stop using our port." Cobiah looked down at the bustling docks. "Lion's Arch will die."

Twilight crept over the harbor, bringing with it the sweet scent of open flame and meals cooking in homes and taverns. The lapping of water against the s.h.i.+ps on the docks matched the rhythm of drums and violins in the ale houses where sailors spent their pay on a night of drinking and debauchery. A light from the windows of the captain's cabin aboard the Nomad s.h.i.+mmered on the waves.

Cobiah marched stiffly down the dock toward the clipper. He heard a distant bell ringing the hour in the town and paused at the gangplank to hear it toll. On the deck of the Nomad, the few sailors still on board called out to one another, saying their good-nights and walking the rounds before they turned in below. Cobiah twisted the cuffs of his blue frock coat and straightened the collar at his neck. He wished the walk had taken longer. Now that he was here, he had no idea what to say. Taking a deep breath, he considered turning on his heel and going back to the Pride, but even as he tried to convince himself to leave, Cobiah stepped out onto the gangplank, and he found himself striding up the walkway onto the Nomad's deck.

"Ahoy!" a voice called from the deck. The soft glow of a lantern moved closer as someone approached the gunwale. "Who goes there?"

"Hail, aboard," he answered, waving awkwardly. "I'm here to . . . I mean . . ."

"Is there some problem?"

"No, no problem. It's Captain Marriner. I'd like to speak to . . . um . . ."

"Cobiah?" As the figure approached, Cobiah caught the shadow of gently fluttering black wraps on the wrist holding the lantern. "Dwayna bless my soul."

Recognizing both the voice and the odd, bandagelike strips of fabric, Cobiah relaxed. "Verahd. Good to see you."

Lifting the lantern higher, the elementalist pushed back his wire-rimmed gla.s.ses and studied Cobiah intently. "You look like a fop," he said bluntly. "Where did you get that terrible coat?"

"Macha gave it to me. You don't like it?" Cobiah looked down at the frock coat in distress.

"I can lie if you want, and say it's very fas.h.i.+onable. Isaye, on the other hand, will tell you the truth. Probably through a lot of laughter."

Grumbling, Cobiah took off the coat and tossed it to hang on one of the dock pegs. He walked up onto the deck and shook Verahd's hand. "Thanks." Verahd nodded with a sound that was half chuckle and half sigh and gestured for Cobiah to follow.

"Lucky for you, Henst's at the tavern with most of the crew; you'd have never gotten aboard. She's a bit miffed at you. What did you do?"

"Me?" Cobiah raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I didn't do anything."

Verahd snorted. When they reached the big oak doors of the captain's cabin, the elementalist stared at him appraisingly and then shrugged and knocked three times. "Cap'n?" the elementalist announced with resignation. "You've a visitor."

"At this hour? Who in the Mists . . .?" Cobiah heard the sc.r.a.pe of a chair, followed by the sound of bare feet on deck boards. Isaye opened the door.

She wore her leather pants and white s.h.i.+rt, as she had in the council chambers, but now her hair was unbound, spilling down past her shoulders in dark mahogany waves. Isaye wrinkled her nose and narrowed her green-gold eyes. "Cobiah? Forgot where you docked your s.h.i.+p, did you?" Crossing her arms, she leaned against the arch of the doorway and looked him up and down.

"No. I . . . Look, Isaye . . ." Suddenly awkward, Cobiah glanced over at Verahd.

The slender elementalist raised an eyebrow, tapping his long, birdlike fingers atop the lantern's hood. "Oh, fine." Verahd sighed again and tucked long strands of reddish hair behind his ear. "I'll check on the forecastle. You two behave, or I'll turn into a tornado and hurl you both into the sea." He eyed Cobiah with skepticism and lowered the lantern, muttering as he walked away.

Isaye was still staring at him, a bemused quirk twisting her full lips. "Well?" she said blankly. "You didn't come all this way just to stare at me, did you?"

"No." Cobiah blinked, rubbing his eyes. "Look, Isaye, I wanted to talk to you about the council meeting today."

"Talk to me?"

"Apologize," he added smoothly. "I want to apologize."

"Hmph." She stepped to the side and walked back into the cabin, leaving the door open for him to follow. "Come in out of the wind, Cobiah Marriner."

The main room of the captain's quarters on the Nomad was s.p.a.cious, not unlike his aboard the Pride, with well-scrubbed floors and s.h.i.+ning bra.s.s ornaments. But that was where the likeness ended. Cobiah's quarters were rambunctious, filled with the trinkets and trophies of a life raiding s.h.i.+ps at sea. Isaye's were spa.r.s.e and businesslike. They were tidy, if lavish, with colored window gla.s.s in diamonds of yellow, red, and blue. Light came from covered wall sconces that smelled of burning oil. There was a table with a stack of maps and charts, a desk that had been bolted to the floor, and several chairs shod in heavy lead to keep them standing when the s.h.i.+p tossed on the waves. A tall, three-part Canthan screen blocked Cobiah's view of the bed, but he caught a glimpse of tightly tucked sheets beneath a scarlet-and-gold coverlet. A wardrobe stood in the same area, its doors closed and latched to keep its contents safe even in a storm. Cobiah smiled to see his hat and a book he'd been reading still on her nightstand, right where he'd forgotten them before she left port three weeks ago.

Isaye crossed to the captain's desk and poured two gla.s.ses of whiskey. She kept one in her hand and set the other on the table with a thump. Choosing the large padded chair near the desk, Isaye settled down, pulling her bare feet underneath her legs. She gazed curiously at her visitor. "If you're here to start an argument, it's going to be a short one." Isaye tapped the side of her gla.s.s with her fingers. "I'm tired, Cobiah, and I don't have enough whiskey to entertain myself while you rant."

"I'm not going to rant. I told you, I'm here to apologize." He took the whiskey gratefully, turning one of the hard wooden chairs around to straddle the seat. "Thanks."

"All right, then get to it." She eyed him.

Cobiah phrased his thoughts carefully. Something about Isaye's manner always made him think twice before he acted-something he wasn't at all used to doing. It was uncomfortable, but he liked the results. Simply put, she was good for him. "I'm sorry I got angry at you during the council meeting. You had the right to vote your conscience, and I shouldn't act like that's wrong. Even when I don't agree with you." He managed a sheepish smile.

He went on. "Yomm was right. I don't take the Pride out as often as I'd like, and maybe that makes me a bad captain. But Yomm's a terrible one. He doesn't bring anything to the defense of the city, and despite his plat.i.tudes, he's not planning on being helpful. You know as well as I do that he hasn't joined the council to protect Lion's Arch. He joined it to keep his power-and his profits-intact."

Isaye nodded. "I know."

"You . . ." Cobiah blinked. "That's terrible!"

"Yup." She took a sip of her whiskey. "It's d.a.m.n lousy of him. Yomm's a skunk, and there's no doubt about it."

He stared at her, restraint forgotten. "Then why the h.e.l.l did you vote for him?"

Isaye set down her whiskey gla.s.s and answered, "I voted to uphold the rules of the city, Cobiah. I didn't vote for Yomm."

"Are you kidding me?" Cobiah exploded. "The city's in jeopardy. You know that asura's trying to rook the council, and you don't feel any kind of responsibility to keep him out?" Shaking, Cobiah took a gulp of the whiskey and felt it burn against the back of his throat. Choking slightly, he said, "Did they pay you?"

Isaye's eyes flashed-the first sign of genuine anger he'd seen. "You think I was bribed? You know me better than that."

"Then what were you doing?"