I knocked. I was invited.
A dog barked within, but only once. Other dogs followed, but a gruff voice quickly put an end to that. Then came footsteps. The door opened, and a Ricarri who wasn't Furn glared down at me.
Looking over my red cloak and flushed face, the Ricarri said, “I think you've got the wrong place.”
“Do I?” I held up the token. “I was so certain this was the right door.”
The Ricarri blinked, then snatched the token from me and peered at it. “Where did you get this?”
“From Furn. I'm here for my vanrussa, if you please.”
“Let him in, Basal,” someone said.
The Ricarri stepped back and tossed my token to Furn, who was walking up with Leeya.
“Hello,” I said to him, then bent to say, “Hello, Leeya.”
Leeya rushed forward and licked my face.
“What da . . .?” Basal gaped at the dog and me.
“Shut the door, Basal,” Furn said in a smug tone that went with his expression.
Basal shut the door.
I gave Leeya one last stroke and straightened. “I hope this isn't a bad time.”
“No, of course not,” Furn said as Leeya returned to his side. “You've come sooner than I expected.”
“I've just filled a large order for the Dragon King,” I made sure to specify which king since the Ricarri had their own kings and only tolerated Dragon rule. Barely.
“Have you?” Furn's brows lifted. “I haven't had time to visit your shop, but I recall that you sell your inventions. They must be impressive if the Dragon King has purchased some.”
I shrugged. “I'm always looking for new ideas. If you have a need, let me know, and perhaps I can find a way to fulfill it.”
Basal cleared his throat to hide a laugh.
I flushed. “I didn't mean—”
“Excuse him,” Furn said. “Basal is uncouth, to say the least.”
“Hey!” Basal growled. Then he frowned. “What's uncouth?”
Furn waved at him as if that explained everything.
I chuckled.
“Come with me.” Furn paused. “It was Galin, right?”
“Yes, that's right.”
“This way, Galin. I'll show you the dogs available for adoption.”
“Adoption,” I murmured. “I love that.”
“Hey! Did you just insult me?” Basal stomped up beside me, his long, black braid swinging across his broad shoulders.
He, like Furn, wore a shirt, trousers, and boots, nothing else. Not that anything more was needed in the shop. It was deliciously warm.
