Flint thought he heard a scuffling outside and stomped to the doorway to check. But he heard and saw no one.

"Fireforge, you're growing old. Now you're imagining things," he complained as he went back to loading the sack.

He felt a warmth deep inside as he touched each of the wooden toys. Metal was good to shape; it gave one a sense of power as the cold substance submitted to the hammer and took on shape by the force of the forger's will. But wood was different, he thought, stroking a wooden whistle. One did not force wood into a shape or design, the dwarf said to himself; one found the shape that lay within it. There was no time Flint knew greater peace than when he sat with a carving knife in one hand and a piece of wood in the other, wondering what treasure lay hidden within its heart.

"It's like folks are, my mother used to say," he explained to his shop at large, which was as familiar to him by now as a close friend. "Some folks are like this metal, she'd say," and he displayed a metal flower brooch to the deserted room. "They can be forced into line. They'll adapt. Other folks are like this wood," and he held up a tiny squirrel, carved from softwood. "If you force them, they'll break. You have to work slowly, carefully, to see what's within."

"The key, my mother said," he intoned gravely to a stone bench near the door, "is to know which is which."

Flint paused as though waiting. It occurred to him that a fellow who made speeches to his furniture probably had few friends. With the exception of the Speaker and Miral and the city's children, most elves were reservedly polite with him. But there was no one to slap on the back and treat to an ale at a tavern, no one to swap stories with, no one he'd particularly trust to protect his back on the open road.

"Perhaps it is time to go home to Solace," he said softly, a look of sadness crossing his face.

Just at that moment, a thump resounded from right outside the door, followed by a quickly stifled "Oh!" He paused only a heartbeat in his movements and tiptoed to the open portal. Suddenly, he leaped through the doorway, booming, "Reorx's thunder! To the battle!" and laying about him with the carved squirrel as though it were a battle-axe. With a flurry of dust and a shriek of "Tanis, help!" a wispy figure topped with ash-blond curls sped away between the pear trees and the aspens. Her turquoise playsuit mirrored the deepening sky of twilight.

"Lauralanthalasa!" Flint called, laughing. "Laurana!" But the Speaker's daughter had disappeared.

The elf girl had called to Tanis, but Flint saw no evidence of the half-elf. Presumably, from Laurana's call, Tanis's afternoon archery lesson with Tyresian had been concluded.

Smiling, Flint went back into his shop. He was grinning still when he emerged, tossed the bag over his shoulder and bounded out the door of the shop. In the center of Qualinost, at the foot of the rise crowned by the aspen groves of the Hall of the Sky, stood an open square. It was a sunny place, bounded on one side by a row of trees that seemed to have grown especially for climbing and, on the other side, by a small brook spilling into a series of moss-lined pools. Between the two was plenty of space for running, shouting, and playing all sorts of noisy games. The square was a perfect place for children.

The sun had begun to dip into the horizon when Flint's footsteps brought him to the square. Dozens of elven children, dressed in cotton outfits gathered at neck and wrist and ankle, halted their games as the stocky dwarf stepped across the footbridge and into the clearing. The children stared at him, none daring to break the silence. Flint glowered, his bushy eyebrows drawn down almost over his steely eyes, and then he snorted, as if they were hardly anything to bother with. He marched through the square, his back turned to all their wondering eyes.

Finally, an elf girl dressed in turquoise dashed forward to tug at the dwarf's sleeve. Flint whirled, his eyes flashing like flint on steel. Oh ho! Flint thought, keeping his expression dour, so it's Laurana, is it? "You!" he exclaimed. The other children turned pale, but Laurana held her ground. He continued, "Were you spying on me?"

Laurana tilted her head, and one pointed ear tip poked out of her profusion of curls. "Well, of course," she said.

"What do you want?" he snarled. "I haven't got all day. Some folks have to work, you know, instead of playing all the time. I've got to take a very important order to the Tower, and it's nearly sundown."

The elf girl chewed on a pink lower lip. "The Tower's the other way," she said at last, green eyes sparkling.

Tremendous self-possession, Flint thought, for a youngling; must be the royal blood. Or else it was the figure of Tanis lounging in the background that gave Laurana courage.

"Well?" he demanded again. "What do you want of me?"

"More toys!"

Flint looked amazed. "Toys? Who has toys?"

She started to giggle and pulled on his sleeve. "In the sack. You've got toys in the sack, Master Fireforge. Admit it. You do, now."

He growled, "Not possible." But the cries of the children- "Yes." "Toys!" "Last time, I got a carved minotaur." "I want a wooden sword."-drowned out his reply. They swirled around him like a multicolored maelstrom. "Oh, all right," he muttered loudly. "I'll take a look, but the sack's probably full of coal. Just what you deserve." He peered inside, hiding the contents from the children, who crept closer.

About twenty feet away, Tanis sighed loudly and selected a new pear tree to lean against. His face held the bored look of the adolescent-although he did remain at the scene.

"Bent nails," Flint said, rummaging in the sack. "That's what I've got in here. And rusted curry combs and worn-out horseshoes and a month-old loaf of quith-pa. That's all."

The children waited for Laurana to take the lead. "You always say that," she pointed out.

"All right," he sighed. "Here's an idea. You put your arm inside the sack and pull something out."

She nodded. "Fine." She placed one hand near the opening. "Just watch out for the baby sea dragon," the dwarf said. "It bites."

She snatched back her slender hand and glared at Flint. "Want me to do it?" Flint finally offered.

Laurana nodded again.

He pulled something from deep in the corner of his sack, a gleeful grin on his face. She gasped, clapping her hands, and suddenly she wasn't the Speaker's royal daughter, but an ordinary elven girl. Frowning still, he laid the object in her hand.

It was a flute, no longer than the span of the elf girl's hand, but perfect in every respect, carved of a bit of vallenwood that Flint had brought all the way from Solace. But he knew its tone would be sweeter than any other wood, and this was proved true as Laurana raised the flute to her lips. The tones that bubbled forth were as clear as the water in the brook.

"Oh, thank you!" Laurana exclaimed, and, ran over to Tanis, who stooped to examine her treasure. Laurana's brother, the elf boy called Gilthanas, and the other elven children pressed about Flint, begging him to please look and see if there was anything in his sack for them, too.

"Now, stop shoving," Flint said testily, "or I'm liable to leave at any second, you know." But somehow, despite the dwarf's grumbling, when the bag was empty every child in the square held a new, perfect toy. There were tiny musical instruments, like Laurana's flute, and small puppets that could be made to dance on the palm of the hand, and miniature carts pulled by painted horses, and wooden disks that rolled up and down on the end of a string tied to a finger.

All of the toys were made of wood, each carved lovingly by the light of the fire. Flint would work for weeks in his spare moments, filling up the cabinet, and then, when he'd made enough, he would find some excuse to pass through the square. Not that he'd ever admit it was anything other than chance that sent him when he just happened to have toys in his sack. He would merely scowl.

As he folded up the empty bag, Flint searched the gathering of children with his eyes. The dwarf saw Tanis, now sitting on the edge of the square, apart from the others near one of the pools. He sat cross-legged, staring silently into the water, where Flint could see the faint shadows of fish drifting by. In the midst of all this elven loveliness, there was something about Tanis, with his human qualities, that seemed decidedly familiar to Flint. The elves were a good people, but once in a while he found his thoughts turning to the times he had spent with folk a bit less distant. At any rate, he had come to the square like this four or five times now, and always Tanis had hung back from the other children when the dwarf was giving out the wooden toys. Tanis was growing old for youngsters' fripperies, but still… He wasn't all grown up yet. Not that Tanis hadn't seemed interested. Nearly every time the dwarf had arrived at the area to pass out toys, Flint had looked up to see the youth's not-quite-elven eyes upon him, as if he were studying the dwarf. Flint would motion for the boy to come forward, but he never would. He would just keep watching with that thoughtful gaze of his, and then, when the dwarf would look for him again, he would be gone.