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Brownberry Insurance. May I help you?”
    He volunteered no more information, but kept a polite smile of inquiry fixed in my direction. He kept glancing at Loiosh, then returning his gaze to me.
    I said, “I was actually looking for Northport Securities.”
    “Ah,” he said. “Well, I can help you there, as well.”
    “Excellent.”
    The office was small, but there was another curtained doorway behind it—no doubt there was another room with another desk, perhaps with another Lyorn looking over another ledger.
    “I understand,” I said carefully, “that Northport Securities owns Brugan Exchange.”
    He frowned. “Brugan Exchange? I’m afraid I’ve never heard of it. What do they do?”
    “They own Westman, Niece, and Nephew Land Holding Company.”
    He shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t know anything about that.”
    The curtain moved and a woman poked her head out, then walked around to stand next to the desk. Definitely an Orca; and I’d put her at about seven hundred years. Not bad if you like Dragaerans. She wore blue pants and a simple white blouse with blue trim, and had short hair pulled back severely. “Westman Holding?” she said.
    “Yes.”
    The man said, “It’s one of yours, Leen?”
    “Yes.” And to me, “How may I help you?”
    “You hold the lease for a lady named, uh, Hujaanra, or something like that?”
    “Yes. I was just out to see her about it. Are you her advocate?”
    “Something like that.”
    “Please come back here and sit down. I’m called Leen. And you?”
    “Padraic,” I said. I followed her into a tiny office with just barely room for me, her, her desk, and a filing cabinet. Her desk was clean except for some writing gear and a couple large black books, probably ledgers. I sat on a wooden stool.
    “What may I do for you?” she said. She was certainly the most polite Orca I’d ever encountered.
    “I’d like to understand why my client has to leave her land.”
    She nodded as if she’d been expecting the question. “Instructions from the parent company,” she said. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you exactly why. We think the offer we made is quite reasonable—”
    “That isn’t the issue,” I said.
    She seemed a bit surprised. Perhaps she wasn’t used to being interrupted by an Easterner, perhaps she wasn’t used to being interrupted by an advocate, perhaps she wasn’t used to people who weren’t interested in money.
    “What exactly is the issue?” she said in the tone of someone trying to remain polite in the face of provocation.
    “She doesn’t want to leave her land.”
    “I’m afraid she must. The parent company—”
    “Then can I speak to someone in the parent company?”
    She studied me for a moment, then said, “I don’t see why not.” She scratched out a name and address on a small piece of paper, blew on it until the ink dried, and gave it to me.
    “Thank you,” I said.
    “You are most welcome, Sir Padraic.”
    I nodded to the man in the office, who was too absorbed in his ledger to notice, then stopped past the door, looked at the card, and laughed. It said, “Lady Cepra, Cepra Holding Company, room 20.” No building, which, of course, meant it was this very building. I shook my head and went down the stairs, sending Loiosh ahead of me.
    He was back in about a minute. “Third floor,” he said.
    “Good.”
    So I headed down to the third floor.
    Do you get the idea, Kiera? Good. Then there’s no need to go into the rest of the day, it was more of the same. I never met any resistance, and everyone was very polite, and eventually I got my answer—sort of.
    It was well after dark when I returned to the cottage. Buddy greeted me with a tail wag that got his whole back half moving. It was nice to be missed.
    “As long as you aren’t fussy about the source.”
    “Shut up, Loiosh.”
    I walked in the door and saw Savn was asleep on his pile of blankets. The old woman was sitting in front of the fire, drinking tea. She didn’t