Caleb glanced at Willow in the soft glow of small central fire, but she clenched her teeth and looked away.
“So how much?” Caleb asked, fingering the jewelry.
“Twenty-five gallons.”
“Now you insult me.” Caleb closed his hand around the gems.
“You?” Willow shot, unable to remain quiet. “My jewelry is worth more than I am? This is unforgivable!”
“All right, thirty-five,” Halsteri sighed.
“Sixty-five,” Caleb said without a flicker of emotion on his face. “You are not the only water trader here.”
“Pah! Everything else is contaminated!”
“Good thing I have a way of deciphering the good from the bad,” Caleb told him. “Seventy.”
The trader’s eyes opened wider. “Sixty-five.”
Caleb waited a moment, letting Halsteri sweat it out.
Finally, he nodded.
“Ah, good!” Halsteri gave a short laugh, and then, realizing what Caleb had done, smiled. “You are clever, Caleb.”
“Now, let me taste it.” Caleb held his hands out and received the jug, then placed it on the floor in front of him. He reached into a small suede pouch hanging from his belt and withdrew two glass vials, one empty and one filled with blue powder. Willow studied him with a puzzled look when he filled the vile with the blue powder with water. He eyed the mixture for a moment and dumped its contents onto the floor.
“My water is free of bacteria, Caleb.” Halsteri did his best to sound insulted, but Caleb did not look at him while he filled the empty vial with fresh water from the same jug and drank it.
“I have to be sure,” Caleb said after he swallowed. “I don’t want my villagers ending up like the desert people.” Then, “We have a deal for the ring.” He reached behind his back and presented one of the paintings.
When Halsteri saw it, he practically drooled. Caleb let him hold and examine it. “Ah, a Tundorian masterpiece by Aleq Marlhen. This is an old and rare painting, Caleb.”
“Yes, I know. No bargains, three hundred gallons for the painting and sixty-five for the ring. I’ll return for it later, after my men procure a cart.”
Willow looked at him. He was returning home? What was he going to do with her? He insisted that he hadn’t kidnapped her, but where was she to go now? How would she get back home?
Halsteri nodded and jumped to his feet. He snatched the first painting and reached for the second.
“No.” Caleb held his arm. “That is for the soil traders.”
“You can’t grow anything here, Caleb,” Halsteri pointed out but Caleb ignored his reminder.
“Where did you get this painting?” Halsteri asked Willow.
“It was a gift to my father, and he gave it to me.”
Running his hand over the perfect brush strokes along the canvas, Halsteri raised his eye to her and smiled. “She is finer than even this. Are you sure she is not for trade? I will give you…”
Willow bristled. She had had enough and stood to her feet. “Listen here, you little worm. There is not enough fresh water in the world, let alone Predaria that could convince me to even touch you.”
Halsteri’s smile widened to one of naked intent and he took a step toward her. In an instant, Caleb was on his feet and stepped in front of her, blocking the trader’s advance. “I asked you not to insult her again,” he almost whispered. The sound was threatening enough for the plump man who had been silent in the shadows of the tent to step forward. Caleb merely looked at him, catching the slight flash of light as the man withdrew his dagger. “Sit down, Halsteri,” Caleb warned the trader. “And let us finish our business.”
“That is precisely what I am trying to do.” Halsteri’s smile never wavered. He waved his hand over his head and his guard stepped back. “If you can keep your woman under control long enough to seal our deal, I…”
Before Caleb could stop her, Willow bent for the clay jug and hurled it at the trader. She missed him and the jug bounced off the canvas walls, but with it went its precious contents. For a terrifying moment, no one moved as the water seeped into the dry ground. And then a long dagger flashed over Willow’s head. With lightning quick reflexes, Caleb’s hand shot out and gripped the guard’s wrist, halting the blade’s decent before it could land the fatal blow across Willow’s neck. At the same time, he brought his own sword to the man’s throat with his other hand.
“Halsteri,” Caleb growled without taking his eyes off the guard. “I will