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ways.” She counted on her fingers. “I read their body language. I've been in a lot of fights. These guys were pretty predictable. Their boss had the hots for me, so they weren't trying to hurt me. Want some more?"
    "No,” Jape said. “But I wonder—why did the idea of mind reading pop into your head so quickly? I didn't bring it up; you did."
    "You suggested it just a couple hours ago."
    "And just now I was thinking really, really hard, Nalia can read minds."
    She turned away. “This is ridiculous!"
    Jape stared into her eyes. “Before you dismiss me as a total fool, do you feel anything in your left hand?"
    Nalia paused, thought, and said, very, very slowly, “It feels cold. Real cold, and a little wet.” She stopped and shook her head. “This is going to sound ridiculous, but it feels like I'm holding a piece of ice."
    "Like this one?” He pulled his left hand from the pocket of his cape and showed her a small piece of ice. “I've been concentrating on how cold it is."
    She shook her head, hard, as if trying to dislodge something. “There's got to be a logical explanation."
    "I'm just a dumb sword-swinger,” Scrornuck said, “but isn't the simplest explanation the best one?"
    "And the simplest explanation,” Jape said, “is that you're a mind reader."
    She thought for a moment. “Let's pretend I believe you. Then how did you figure out I can read minds? You weren't playing ice-cube games with the other women in the bar last night."
    He held up his left hand and pointed to a ring with a small blue gem that flickered with its own light. “This instrument says you're a mind reader. Not very strong, but enough to detect.” He held up a different ring, the one with a purple jewel that glowed very faintly. “My instruments detect something else out there—a mind reader of sorts, but a different kind. Intuition tells me there's something important about two different kinds of mind readers."
    "I don't know if I like this,” she said nervously. “You don't know what might happen when we find this other mind reader."
    "No, I don't,” Jape said. “But since you're just pretending to believe me, you shouldn't have anything to fear.” He smiled. “Right?"
* * * *
    A few colorful dragons circled overhead as the perfect morning gave way to a perfect afternoon and the three travelers reached a place where the road from Taupeaquaah met other paths from the South and West. A line of thirty-foot-tall concrete towers paralleled each road, and some enterprising soul had strung a triangular canopy of meshed rope between three of them. In the shade beneath the canopy stood a roadhouse and beer garden whose sign announced:
PUB AT YE GRANDE JUNCTION
BEER—MEALS—BEER—SNACKS—BEER
SPOTLESS RESTROOMS
    They chose a table in the beer garden. Like their breakfast table, it sported three comfortable chairs and one ornate throne decorated with images of Spafu the Friendly Dragon. Scrornuck was curious about this, but lost interest when the serving wench arrived with the first round. He read from the label on his big draught of Batatat's Stout: "Black As Tar And Twice As Thick. Let's see if it lives up to its name.” He removed a big gold ring from his left ear and dropped it into the beer. “Even pure gold can't shine through a really strong stout.” He peered into the glass and saw no sign of the earring. “Looks like this is the good stuff."
    "Used motor oil with a head on it,” Jape retorted. “And how are you going to get your earring out of that sludge?"
    "That's the fun part.” Scrornuck drained the pint and signaled for a replacement.
    "Can I have a look at that?” Nalia asked as Scrornuck set the earring on a napkin to dry.
    "Sure,” he said, sliding the napkin across the table. The earring was almost an inch and a half across, in the form of three intertwined, intricately detailed serpents. It was also seriously beat-up: off-round, bent in a couple places, flattened as if by a hammer blow in another,