Aurora Wolf

 

Amber Profits

by Deb Salisbury

If it weren’t for the slavers, Viper thought Veriz would be the ideal city for earning a profit. Everything was for sale here – for a price.

For the unwary, Veriz was as dangerous as the deathwind.  The gullible would find the city’s price brutally steep.

Between his magic and Kyrie’s, Viper knew he didn’t need to worry.  He’d been a gem merchant and a minor sorcerer long enough to take care to balance the cost. 

Viper stole a moment from his bargaining to savor the bazaar.

Fruit sellers hoisted platters of bright tangerines above their heads and sang praises of the tangy sweetness.  Velvet-swathed booths displayed trays of ruddy gems, cages of screeching birds, or gleaming bronze knives.

Drunken warriors wandered from inn to alehouse.  Hard eyed guards stood on every corner.

Chains of shackled slaves trudged between the snarling whips of slavers.

A troop of dancers whirled past, the drummer beating on the kidskin with wooden swords.  Children galloped beside them, begging for sweets.

Viper gazed at the chaos and smiled to himself.  If it weren’t for the slavers, he’d consider taking a booth in the bazaar.  He loved bargaining.  It was almost as much fun as sorcery.

He suspected Lorel and S’dona enjoyed Veriz purely for the challenge.  Protecting a gem merchant in this rowdy town meant a bit of excitement for his bored bodyguards.

He risked another glance away from the amber merchant and grinned up at his blonde volunteer bodyguard.

Zharyl perched awkwardly on her new gray mare, the only horse the tall sixteen year old had been allowed to ride since she left the plains to travel with him.  She looked intensely proud, but she also appeared ready to fall off at the first strong breeze.

Plains folk just aren’t meant to ride, Viper thought.  None of us are any good at it.  I wonder where Lorel is.  Probably hoisting ale in a Zedisti-run tavern.  She’s supposed to be on duty, not Zharyl.

He turned back to the fidgeting merchant.  “One bit of amber is not worth a Crayl sword.”

“But see here, it’s as big as your fist.”  The merchant rolled the resinous chunk between his fingertips.  “Look at the spider inside.  Spiders in amber are very rare.”

Viper scowled at the merchant’s chubby hands.  “My fists are not very big.  People tell me that all the time.”  He glared at his own slender wrists.  It wasn’t the Verizi’s fault that at eighteen he was only as tall as a ten year old, but the reminder stung.

He took a deep breath and looked up at the merchant.  “Besides, no matter how rare a spider is, a Crayl blade is just as rare, and far more useful.  A Crayl knife for that one and five smaller stones with insects, plus a bagful of small pieces.”

“Too much!”  The merchant crossed his arms and peered down his nose.

“I’ll throw in a roll of Noran copper wire.”  Viper reached into his cloak and pulled a spool from a pocket.

The merchant leaned forward to stroke the wire, obviously testing its quality.  He placed the amber chunk next to the roll.  “Two stones with bugs, three large but empty.”

“Three with, two without, plus a handful of broken bits.”

“Done.”  The merchant brought out a velvet bag and filled it with amber.  He hid the knife and the copper wire behind his counter.

Shadows darkened the booth.

The amber merchant glanced up.  His eyes widened as if he watched a dragon attack.  He ducked behind the counter.

“Hey, kid?”  Lorel’s voice boomed behind Viper.  He didn’t blame the merchant for hiding.  The hawk-faced woman terrified most men with her imposing height and impressive scowls. “Kid, you got a minute?”

“Where have you been?”  Viper tucked the lumpy pouch into his cloak’s deepest pocket.   “You know I hate trading alone.”  He turned to glare up at Lorel.  “Zharyl isn’t much of a bodyguard, no matter how well she throws a knife.”

Lorel peered down at him through reddened, unfocused eyes.  “Kid, where is Zharyl?”  Her ebony hair hung in muddy tangles over her shoulders.

“You’re drunk.”  Viper planted his hands on his hips.  “She’s right – ”

Zharyl was nowhere in sight.

“I ain’t drunk.”  Lorel touched her temple.  “Some Loom-tangling idiot bashed me on the noggin.”

“Thunderer, Lorel.”  Viper stepped toward her, craning his neck back to examine her face.

“I like to busted his head, I were so mad, but guards came and stopped me.  Hauled the thread frayer off.”  She touched the sides of her head gingerly.  “Told me that slavers hereabouts been nabbing tall women lots, lately.”

“We’ve got to find Zharyl,” Viper whispered.

Lorel nodded and spoke carefully, but every word was slurred.  “I saw S’dona and warned her, ’cuz we shouldda been able to see Zharyl atop of that horse.  She’s out looking right now.”

“Good.  Stick with me.  The shape you’re in, you need me as much as I need you.”

Lorel nodded and winced. 

***

“Lorel, we can’t burn down the slave pens,” Viper repeated.  He glanced over at S’dona, who was calmly sharpening her sword and ignoring them both.  No help there.

Viper leaned back into Kyrie’s coils, in the relative safety of the top bunk.  The enormous serpent watched the three of them, its head tilted to one side.  Viper wondered what it thought about the quarrel.

“Sure we can.”  Lorel leaned her elbows on the floor of the wagon and stretched her legs out in front of her.  She glared up at Viper.

Viper scowled at S’dona.  Why doesn’t the sandblasted warrior stop messing with her sword and say something?  She must have some opinion.  Lorel seems bent on getting us killed.  Or jailed, which might be worse in a town like Veriz.

“Slavery’s illegal.”  Lorel slammed her fist on the floor to recapture Viper’s attention.  She winced and touched her forehead.  “It’s our duty to clean them out.”

“Slavery is legal in Veriz.”  Viper waggled his eyebrows at S’dona, openly begging for assistance.  “You can’t view the world through Zedisti laws.”

“Why not?”  Lorel slapped her thigh.  “Zedista’s got the best laws ever.  We gotta kill them slavers. I wanna burn down the slave pens.”

S’dona fingered her sword.  “How many people do you plan to murder?”

“All them slavers.”  Lorel glared at the warrior.  “All of them!”

“If you set fire to the pens, most of the slavers will escape, but most of the slaves will die.”  S’dona sheathed her sword and leaned back into the chair.  “I went and looked for Zharyl in the pens.  They’re old and half-rotted.  Fire traps.  Most of the slaves would burn to death before they could find their way out of that maze.”

Kyrie arched its neck.  “This one contends that the bondage enclosures are not an element of the equation.”

“I got the ‘not’ part.”  Lorel leaned forward and glared at the serpent.  “Whatcha mean?”

“The wind’s daughter was stolen against Verizi law, and therefore will be sold clandestinely.”  Kyrie dipped its head.  “This one might identify the location of the auction.”

Viper struggled to sit up within the warm coils.  “You’ve seen something suspicious?”

“Humans commit many suspicious acts in the hours of darkness, but two nights ago this one witnessed several tall women being led into a limestone edifice.”  Kyrie looked directly at Lorel.  “Each appeared to be drugged.

“Drugged?”  Lorel paused, apparently trying to make sense of Kyrie’s information.  She nodded.  “That’s the place, toad.”

Viper winced at the epithet.  Toad was not a word he would aim at a magical serpent, especially one with six-inch venomous fangs.  Lorel’s insults would get her killed someday.

“I agree with Lorel.”  S’dona shoved her thumbs into her sword belt.  “That’s got to be the place.”

“Maybe.”  Viper shifted higher in Kyrie’s coils.  “I certainly hope so.  I’m going snooping to make sure.  You two need to stay back.”

“No way, kid!”  Lorel leapt to her feet and hit her head on the wagon’s low ceiling.  She moaned and settled back onto the floor, clutching her head in her hands.  “What if you get caught?”

“Kyrie will know.”

Lorel glanced up, frowning.  She studied him a moment, then shrugged.  “If old toad can find you across a whole mountain range, I guess it can find you in this pint-sized town.”

“I’ll get inside.  If it looks likely, I’ll hide there.”  Viper pointed at Lorel.  “Don’t fuss at me.  I swear I’ll stay out of sight.  After it’s dark, I’ll sneak out and open a door.  Then you can do your damage.”

S’dona nodded.  “We’ll be ready.”

Lorel’s eyes danced wickedly.  “I owe them slavers more than a lump on the head.”

“If the hatchling is capable of unfastening an aperture, this one will attempt to constitute assistance.”

“I’ve seen you fight, Kyrie.”  Viper stroked the serpent’s velvety coils.  “The window will be open.  Now, tell us about that stone house.”

***

Viper crouched in the shadow of the house and cursed silently at the cellar’s padlock.  He leaned against the cold wall and tried to reassess his position.

No one seemed to be inside the house, but several men sat in the shade of the front porch.  There were no windows on the first floor, and the second floor windows were too narrow even for Viper’s small frame.

That left the cellar door.

Sandblasted padlock, Viper thought.  There has got to be a way around it.  Deathwind scorching chunk of metal.  How would a wizard get past it? He’d blast it to bronze slag, I suppose.

How would a thief do it?

Viper jumped up and strode down the alley.  He headed for the worst part of town, fully aware that, without Lorel to protect him, he was slaver’s bait.  He tried to look confident and alert.

He caught the eye of a scrawny child, perhaps twelve years old.  He stopped and jerked his chin at the boy.

The child sidled over, keeping well out of reach, but not looking terribly worried.  Viper wasn’t surprised, since the boy had a two inch advantage in height.

“Do you know anyone who would pick a padlock for three silvers?” Viper muttered.

The boy stared at him hard.  “Make it four.”

“Done.”

“I’ll do it.  Show me where.”

Viper led the way back to the stone house.  The boy stayed several paces behind him.

“This is a really bad place, bud.”  The boy pulled a bit of wire from his vest and stuck it in the lock.  “Don’t get caught.  They’ll make ye wish yerself dead before they sell ye.”  The lock clicked open.

“Thanks.  I’ll remember.”  Viper tossed the boy his coins.

The child grinned.  “Luck on ye.”  He ducked into the next alley.

Viper rearranged the lock so that the door would appear secure, as long as no one looked too closely.  Then he squeezed past the heavy cellar door and dragged it shut.

Darkness ruled the cellar.  The place stank of moldy straw and urine.  Viper concentrated on using his darksight and details began to emerge.

This was no root cellar.  Nor was it a wine cellar.  Instead of supplies or furniture, it held piles of old straw and cages.

Human sized cages.  And three were occupied.

Viper crept from cage to cage, but Zharyl was not among the captives.  He was sure she would arrive after dark, though.  How many slavers could operate illegally in a town this small?

Careful not to wake the women, Viper went to explore the rest of the house.  He stole up the narrow staircase leading to the ground floor and tried to open the door.  The doorknob rattled, but the heavy door would not budge.  “Another Loom tangling lock.”

Straw rustled deep in the cellar.  “Who’s there?”  whispered a female voice.

“A friend,” Viper whispered back.  He slunk down the steps.  “We’re going to get you out, but we have to wait until dark.”

“They’ll be here after dark,” whispered a second voice.

“I know, but they have a friend of mine.”

“Then you didn’t come to help us,” said a third voice.

“I’d never have known about you, if they hadn’t snatched my friend.”  Viper smiled, knowing the women couldn’t see him.  “I have a Zedisti friend who’d kill me if I even suggested leaving you here.  We’ll get you out.”

“Always did like the Zedisti,” said the first voice.

“I’m Zedisti,” retorted the second.

“In that case I take back everything I said about you.”

Viper chuckled.

“Could you light a torch?”  begged the third voice.

Several heartbeats passed before Viper could decide how to answer.  “Not a torch.  The smoke would give us away.  But I know a little magic.  Enough to make a light, if you’re not afraid.”

“I’m more afraid of the dark and the cockroaches,” the third voice said dryly.

Viper held his hand aloft and summoned a will light to glow there.  He shaped it into a ball and willed it to hang in front of the cages.

Three pairs of dark eyes squinted up at the light.  When Viper lowered his hand, the eyes shifted to stare at him.

He studied the captives.  All three women were nearly as tall as Lorel, and all three were nearly as young as Zharyl.  None were Verizi.  From their features, he guessed them to be from Zedista, Kresh and Dureme-Lor, with no one local to defend them.

“Are you a wizard?”  The owner of the first voice tilted her head.

“No.  I’m just a minor sorcerer.”  Viper grinned.  “Maybe someday I’ll be a wizard, though.  I’m called Viper.”

“I’m Gayl.”  The girl pointed her thumb at the next cage.  “The Zedisti is Cally.”

“My name is Mila’lalin,” said the third, the one Viper pegged as Duremen-Lor.  “Why don’t you open these cages?”

“I don’t have a key.  Besides, we don’t want the slavers to know anything has changed.”  Viper frowned and glanced at the staircase.  “Listen, we need to make a plan that the others can take advantage of.  I have two warriors and a – a magical guardian coming to back us up.  But we need to know what we’re going to do when they attack.”

Gayl leaned back against the bars of her cage.  “Something else is bothering you.”

“I’m supposed to sneak out and open the door after the slavers get settled in.”  Viper rubbed his forehead.  “I’m also supposed to open a window so the guardian can get in.  But I can’t even get upstairs.”

“The room upstairs is big and empty.”  Cally wrinkled her nose.  “The ceiling is really high, like there used to be a floor up there, but there’s no second floor to hide on now.  Nothing to hide behind, either.  You couldn’t open the front door unseen.”

“Did you come through the cellar door?”  Mila’lalin shifted onto her knees.  “So, when the slavers come and put your friend down here, why can’t we all sneak out?”

Viper smiled.  “We will.  If.”

“If what?”

“If they don’t leave more than one guard.  If they don’t take you upstairs instead.  If they don’t leave the new captives upstairs until they are all sold.  If – ”

“I see what you mean.”  Mila’lalin slouched against the bars of her cage.  “We need a different plan for everything that could happen.”

“How about if we wait for them to get settled in, then we push a bunch of straw at the bottom of the stairs and set it on fire?”  Gayl looked at Viper.  “Do you have matches?”

Viper shrugged.  “I can make fire.  That should panic them.  They might kill the captives, though.”

“I bet they’ll try and put out the fire first.”  Cally waved her hand at the staircase.  “If any of us are up there, we’ll be ready to fight and lead the others out.  And your people in!”

“We can do it.”  Gayl sat up straighter.

Mila’lalin looked skeptical, but nodded.

“It might work.”  Viper studied Cally’s voluminous Zedisti skirt and decided she couldn’t do much fighting, but the other women were wearing trousers, so should be able to move faster.  None of them looked in the least like warriors and that worried him.  “It’s the best plan I can see.  When the fire starts, somebody needs to get the door open.  That’s the highest priority.  After my warriors are in, you try to get the others out.”

“I’ll break a window so your guardian can get in, too.”  Cally picked up her pan of water and started to drink.

“No!  Don’t drink that!”  Viper jumped toward Cally’s cage.  “It’s drugged.  I’m sure of it!”

Cally dropped the pan as if it had burned her fingers.

“Each of you pour some out so it looks like you drank it.”  Viper reached into Cally’s cage and put the pan upright in its corner.  “Act sleepy and scared when they come down here.  Let them think you’re defenseless.”

Gayl and Mila’lalin emptied part of their pans at the far side of their cages.

The upstairs door rattled.

Viper jerked around to peer at the stairs.  He willed his light to disappear.  “Stay down and pretend to sleep,” he hissed.

The girls dropped into the straw.  Viper backed into the farthest corner of the cellar and cast an illusion of darkness over himself.

Four men trudged down the narrow stairs.  The first, a slender velvet-clad gentleman, held a torch and a whip.  The larger men plodded behind him, blank faced with indifference.

The thin man stared at the girls’ still forms for several seconds before unlocking the cages.  “Get up,” he yelled.  “Up!  Come out here.”

The women slowly obeyed.  Without a word, each thug grabbed a girl and hustled her up the stairs.  The leader followed more slowly.

Viper listened until he heard the door lock.  Now it was his turn.  He hoped Gayl’s plan would work.

He shoved the loose straw into piles and pushed it onto the lowest three steps.  Using his will to lighten the piles, he shoved the mounds of old, mildewed straw to the base of the stairs.

Someday I’m going to learn to move big things with my will alone instead of just making them lighter.

He shoved more hay toward the stairwell.  He clambered over the straw to the steps and crept up to listen at the door.

He could hear movement, but little else.  He leaned his ear against the door and waited.

A deep voice began chanting.  A rapid, sing-song, auctioneer’s chant.

Viper grinned and scooted down the stairs.

He willed fire to burn in the center of the pile of straw.  The flames spread more rapidly than he expected, but it didn’t produce enough smoke to meet his needs.

I’m going to burn down the whole building before they even notice.

Smoke.  I need more smoke.

He threw up his hands and willed SMOKE!

Wild, billowing black smoke filled the room.

Viper fled the fire, coughing painfully, but refusing to drop his concentration.  He forced his shoulders past the heavy outside door –

Only to be narrowly missed by Lorel’s sword.

Viper ducked and thumped his head against the door.  “Ouch!  Will you pay attention?”  He coughed up black gunk and spat it onto the dirt.

“Sorry, kid.”  Lorel yanked the door open, but didn’t look the least repentant.  “I was expecting you at the front door.”

Viper scampered out of the doorway.

S’dona gestured at the smoke oozing out of the cellar.  “What have you done?”

“I’ve set fire to the stairwell.”  Viper flicked his fingers at the building.  “Three friends are in there waiting for the slavers to notice.  They’ll try and open the front door.”

Kyrie? Viper concentrated on linking with the serpent’s mind.  Watch for a broken window. He sensed an impassive serpentine assent even as his inner strength dribbled into the link.

Viper leaned against the wall until the dizziness passed.  “Things should get interesting soon.”

“We might have to break our way in.”  S’dona stalked along the side of the building, gravel crunching under her boots.

“I hope not.  That will be too obvious.”  He held up a finger to quiet Lorel.  “The guard will attack us for assault, and they might be in on the crime.”

Lorel grumbled, but nodded.

They heard the shrill crash of broken glass.  Smoke poured out of a window.

Viper watched Kyrie slide into the opening.  He turned to the two women.  “Shall we create a distraction?”

S’dona looked at him askance.  “What do you mean?”

“There’s a fire in that building.”  He spread his hands wide.  “Shouldn’t someone help?”

The women gawked at him for a moment before they both grinned.

“Fire!” Lorel shouted.

“Fire!  Fire!”  The trio sprinted to the front of the house and pounded on the door.  Viper could hear another voice behind them, screaming about the fire.

People poured out of nearby houses.  Most looked at which house was on fire and went back inside, but a few ran closer.

“You got a friend in there?” a stout man asked.

Viper nodded breathlessly, unable to get a word above Lorel’s bellowing.

“Jason, bring an ax,” a matron shouted over her shoulder.  “There’s a fire in there!”

The young man behind the matron looked at her doubtfully.  His frown spread into a wicked grin.  “Coming, ma.”

Jason reappeared only moments later.  He raced to the building and slammed his bronze ax against the door.  A large chip flew into the street, but the door resounded like a four inch slab of oak.

“  ’Scuse me.”  Lorel took the ax out of Jason’s hands.  She herded the townsfolk off the porch.

Viper glanced at her face and raised his eyebrows.  Now what was she up to?  He tugged S’dona out of range.

Lorel lifted the ax and spun on her heel.

The ax head hit the lock square on.

The deadbolt screeched and burst loose from the frame.

Lorel handed the ax back to Jason.  “I always did want to try that.”  She drew her short sword and charged through the door.

“That’s a new way to fight a fire,” the stout man said.

Viper grinned and followed S’dona into the building.

Acrid smoke choked the room.  Viper willed the magical smoke out of existence and wished he could disperse the real smoke.  He tried to direct it through the broken window.

He turned and searched for the captives.  He found them huddled in the far corner, guarded by Kyrie, who had coiled itself ready to strike.

Zharyl was there, drugged but safe.  Cally lay in Gayl’s lap, dead or unconscious.

The fighting focused on Lorel and S’dona, so Viper crept along the wall to reach the captives.  None of the slavers seemed willing to argue with Kyrie.  Three dead bodies explained why.

“We’ve got to get out of here quickly.”  Viper lifted the unconscious girl’s shoulders out of Gayl’s lap, trying to cradle her head.  “Can you carry Cally?”

“Between us we can.”  Mila’lalin wrapped her arms around Cally’s chest.

Gayl jumped to her feet.  “Can you handle the other three?”

Viper glanced at Zharyl and her drugged companions.  “I’ll manage.  Kyrie, there are townsfolk outside.  Some might come in to help.”

“This one shall be cautious.”  The serpent uncoiled one loop and arched taller.  “Should the citizens penetrate, this one will ascend the hatchling to attain the ledge.  This one shall exit through the aperture from that point.  Until that occasion, this one will safeguard the hatchling and the Menajr daughters, awaiting functional assistance.”

Gayl wrinkled her nose and looked at Viper.  “What did it say?”

“Kyrie will guard us until somebody else shows up to rescue us.”  Viper took a roll of cord from his coat pocket and tied the waists of the drugged women together.  “Anybody who doesn’t know better might try to hurt my guardian.”

Mila’lalin glanced at the three dead men.  “Not a smart idea.”

“Right.”  Viper tugged on his improvised leash.  “Let’s get out of here.”

Zharyl followed him trustingly, and the other drugged girls clung to her.  Mila’lalin and Gayl carried Cally in a chair made of their arms.  With Kyrie slithering between them and the rest of the room they reached the door safely.

Viper poked his head past the broken door.  “These girls are drugged and another is hurt.”  He handed his leash to the matron.  “Can you help them?”

The matron nodded and led the trio toward her home.  Gayl and Mila’lalin handed Cally to the stout man and Jason.

“Stay with them,” Viper said when the girls lingered.  “Please guard them.  The blonde is my friend.”

The girls nodded and followed the matron.

Viper ducked back into the room and tripped over a dead slaver convulsing on the floor.  He rolled off the body and staggered to his feet.  He paused to survey the situation.

Five slavers were on their feet.  Seven looked dead or at least out of action.

Lorel and S’dona were fighting back to back, holding their own, but both warriors were bleeding.

The windows were far too high for S’dona to reach.  Lorel might manage it if she had room for a running jump, but she’d never fit through the narrow frames – if he could talk her into running, which was unlikely.  There was a ledge a couple of feet below the windows.  Viper could see why Cally thought it had been the second floor at one time.

One of the downed slavers staggered to his feet.

“We’ve got to stop the fighting and get out of here,” Viper told Kyrie.

The serpent reared up, nodded and stared at him.

“I know.  I’ve got to do it on my own.”  Viper backed close to the wall.  “Can you protect me from the window ledge?”

Kyrie nodded again, and spiraled around Viper’s body, using him as a balance pole.  Its long body surged up and up until most of it rested on the ledge.  Kyrie released its hold on Viper and drew up its tail.

Viper leaned against the wall and concentrated on creating an illusion.  He held it carefully in his mind until it was stable and the details were perfect.  He willed the illusion into the room.

Lorel and S’dona misted, then appeared to transform into enormous coiled serpents with arms.

The slavers backed away in alarm.

“Companions of mine,” Viper shouted in his deepest, most theatrical voice.  “Demons of mine.  It is time to leave this place.”

S’dona backed toward him.  She threw a startled glance at the serpent illusion on Lorel, but kept moving backwards.  Lorel reluctantly followed.

Viper nodded to Kyrie, who slid away to the broken window.  Just as the women passed through the door, he released the illusion.  He hoped the slavers hadn’t noticed, but he simply didn’t have the strength to hold it any longer.  He fought down dizziness and hustled the pair away from the porch.

“Let’s get out of here before they get brave enough to see if Kyrie is guarding the door.”  He frowned at the blood on both warriors.  “And get you patched up.”

“Was a good fight, kid.”  Lorel cleaned her bloody sword on her sleeve.

S’dona grinned and rolled her eyes.  She yanked a cloth out of her pocket to clean her blade.

Shaking his head, Viper led them to the matron’s home.

Jason opened the door for them and bowed, grinning like a cat sated on cream.  He escorted them to his mother’s kitchen.

The matron grabbed Lorel’s wrist and pushed her into a chair.  “You are a right mess.”  She slapped a steaming rag on Lorel’s largest cut.

Lorel yelped, but turned to look at Zharyl, who was sitting in a corner with the other drugged girls.

Viper decided that his friends were in relatively good shape.  He turned to Cally.  “What happened to you?”

“We couldn’t get to the door, so I threw a pewter goblet at the window.”  Cally touched the back of her head.  “I snatched it right out of the skinny one’s hand.  I figured your guardian might be able to open the door.”

“Then the water-stealing slaver hit her on the head with the wine bottle.”  Gayl tapped Cally’s shoulder.  “Still, the window broke, so I too thought your guardian would get you in.  I nearly cried when I saw it didn’t have any hands.”

Mila’lalin sagged into her chair.  “I nearly kissed it when it started biting slavers.”

“Poor toad would’ve passed out!”  Lorel slapped her thigh and cackled.  “You suppose it’s like the frog in the stories and would’ve turned into a prince?”

“Sit still,” the matron scolded.  “I’m not through with this bandage yet.”

“Kissing it doesn’t work.”  S’dona leaned against the wall and examined her fingernails.

Zharyl stared at her, blearily aghast.  “You didn’t!”

S’dona shrugged.  “It didn’t pass out.”

Laughter drowned Zharyl’s protest.

“What’s a toad got to do with it?” asked one of the drugged girls.

Viper patted her on the shoulder.  “Don’t worry about it.”

The matron glanced out her window.  “I hope those slavers burn with the house.”

“The city guards grabbed them.”  Jason bobbed on his toes, as pleased as if he’d captured the slavers himself.  “The guard got there just as they snuck out of the house.  It was really strange, watching blood-covered fighters sneak out of a burning house.”

His mother tied the last knot in Lorel’s bandage.  “I hope the court locks them up forever.”

Mila’lalin glanced at Cally’s bandaged head.  “Forever won’t be long enough.”

Cally nodded.  “I want to go home.”

“Don’t nobody wanna go to a tavern?”  Lorel held her own head and moaned theatrically.  “I need a beer.”

Gayl looked up and grinned.  “I know a tavern near here that serves Zedisti ale.”

“Zedisti ale?”  Lorel bounced to her feet.  “Where?”

Viper groaned.  “You didn’t need to tell her that.  Now she’ll drink up all my amber profits.”