Men began to grumble around Tanin. One cursed and spat at his feet. Tanin kept walking through the crowd.

"Weredragon lover!" cried one woman, pointing at him.

"Maybe he's a weredragon himself!" shouted another man, an old farmer with white whiskers.

Tanin increased his pace, but more people began to mob him, and one man grabbed his shoulders. At his side, Feyna was pointing at him, shouting that a weredragon had killed her uncle, that the juggler knew of weredragons and was protecting them, was maybe even a weredragon himself. The faces danced around Tanin, and he tried to worm his way through the crowd, but they grabbed him, and a woman shoved him, and—

"What is the meaning of this?"

The authoritative voice pierced the air. A man yowled and fell, clutching a bloodied nose. Another man grunted as a boot flew into his belly. Shoving her way through the crowd, sneering, came Tanin's little sister.

"Maev!" he said.

Her one eye was swollen shut, and a bruise covered her opposite cheek. Blood stained her knuckles, and mud caked her body and long, golden hair. As she balled her fists, her dragon tattoos twitched upon her arms. She was a couple of years younger than Tanin, almost as tall, and ten times as fierce.

When she reached him, Maev grabbed him and stared at the crowd, daring anyone to approach. The people stepped back, blanching. Tales of the Hammer, the traveling wrestler with the dragon tattoos, had spread to most towns across the Ranin River. Most of these folk had just seen Maev pummel her latest opponent—a burly wrestler with arms like tree trunks—in the mud pit.

"Was my dolt of a brother blabbering about weredragons again?" Maev snorted and rolled her eyes. "The fool keeps going on about them. He's got a doll of one at home—like a little girl—and doesn't realize the damn creatures are monsters. Soft in the head, he is." She tugged Tanin's collar and sneered into his ear. "Isn't that right, brother?"

Tanin tried to shake himself free, but she wouldn't release him. Abandoning any hope of saving his dignity today, Tanin nodded.

"Uhm, yes. Sorry about that." He nodded. "Damn weredragons. Horrible creatures." The words tasted like ash in his mouth.

The crowd dispersed slowly. Feyna gave him a disgusted glare before walking off to flirt with a tall baker's boy.

"You almost got us killed," Maev said. She released Tanin's collar and shoved him several paces back.

"She . . ." His voice dropped to a whisper. "She saw Grizzly. She called him a monster."

Maev groaned. "I call our big lummox of a father a monster too. So what?" She punched his chest. "You can't go around getting us into trouble like this all the time. All right? What happened in Oldforge was bad enough. You and girls. Always you and girls . . . almost getting us killed."

Her words stabbed him.

You are diseased! his old beloved had shouted.