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A few people looked up, startled, but friends held them back. Others glanced at her, then laughed.

"Now, didn't I say no one would bother us, red bird?" sneered Stag. "You know, there's a reason people are afraid to come down here after dark." He grinned at his partner. "Hey Drik, let's show missus how alone she really is!"

Drik's face split in a horrid smile. "Aye, Stag!" His voice rose. "Dip's stagger!" he shouted out.

His call got more attention than Feena's scream. All around the tavern, people shouted back eagerly as they turned to face the bandits and their captive. Stag and Drik hauled roughly on Feena's arms.

"One!" they cried, swinging her back toward the crowd. Feena fought to stay on her feet.

"Two!" chanted the crowd in response.

The bandits pulled her forward.

"Three!"

Stag and Drik swung Feena back again and let go. Feena reeled free, arms flailing as she struggled for balance. She slammed straight into the big woman who had been arm-wrestling the dwarf-and gasped as the woman shoved her away again.

"Dip!" the woman roared merrily.

Feena spun a few feet and hit someone else, a gap-toothed merchant.

"Stagger!" he yelled and pushed her as well.

"Dip!"

"Stagger!"

The crowd shifted and flowed around Feena, never allowing her more than a few steps before she hit or was caught by someone and sent staggering on her way. Beer splashed, drenching her. She didn't have a chance to catch her breath or recapture her balance. There was certainly no chance for a prayer. Even the wolf within her was whining in fear-she couldn't have changed form if she wanted to. Wild-eyed, she tried to drop, tried to dart between the legs of the crowd and make for the door. Stag's hands caught her.

"No, no, red bird!" he laughed and gave her a hard shove back into the chanting crowd. Other hands twirled her around and around, tossing her across the bar.

The dwarf whirled into her field of vision. Feena heard him guffaw over the tavern's din.

"Dip!" he bellowed and swung a shoulder against her hips.

Her torso kept going forward. Arms outstretched, she rolled helplessly over the dwarfs shoulder, bounced off a table, and landed hard in someone's lap. A goblet spun away with a ring and clash of cheap metal. Spilled wine pattered around her like rain.

She looked up at a man with light brown hair and a soft goatee. He was well dressed, though wine soaked his clothes. His face was young-he was easily ten years Feena's junior-but there was a hardness to his eyes that aged him. His mouth was set in a thin line. He looked down at his stained clothes, then at her-and up.

The crowd went silent. Feena blinked her eyes back into focus in time to see the tavern's patrons part to leave a clear space between the man who held her and Stag. The bandit's eyes were narrow.

"Give her here, Keph," he growled.

"Why should I?" The young man-Keph-curled an arm around Feena's shoulders. "I might just keep her."

Drik snickered. The young man's gaze darted to him and the bandit fell silent. He moved to Stag's side, both men watching Keph.

"I hear you think you're a bad man now," Stag said. "You still look like a spoiled brat to me. Maybe you want to just step back before you get hurt."

"And maybe when the two of you are finished taking on a farmer's wife, Stag," Keph replied, "you'll be ready to face a real opponent."

Stag's face flushed. "I'll take on both of you by myself!"

The crowd pulled back even farther, making a wide ring in the middle of the tavern. Keph glanced down at Feena.

"Do you mind a little help?" he drawled with mock courtesy.

"Not at all," Feena replied. She pushed herself to her feet and bared her teeth. "Watch out for Drik. He's not going to stay out of this."

Keph's eyes betrayed surprise, as if he hadn't expected such rage to pour out of her, but he rose and stepped to her side. He wore a rapier on his hip, though he didn't draw it. Stag was already moving, strutting forward confidently but watching them both closely while Drik moved around