elaborate bow. “My mistress wishes to see what you have to offer inside your fine tent.”
The Bouncer-Genie said nothing. He gazed from Wolf to me to Wolf again. I tried to look more regal and less worried out of my skin.
“We’ve nothing to sell.”
Damn it, I thought. But Wolf didn’t let up.
“A shame, for she has some lovely, amazing things to trade.”
“Does she now?”
“Oh indeed.” Behind his back he gestured for me to come up next to him.
I tossed my hair back. I’d acted once in eighth grade; I could come up with something. I walked up beside Wolf and gave the man the best impassive stare I could muster.
“Tell me sir, have you ever seen a stick that lights itself afire?”
If anything, Wolf sure was a smooth talker when it came to getting things his way.
“I have not. Is she a witch?”
“Only the finest you’ve ever seen.”
Bouncer-Genie eyed me. “Why have I not seen your face before?”
I sneered. I’m a witch, a powerful witch. And powerful witches don’t take shit from guys like him. “Do you think that I flaunt myself? That I want all my special secrets to be known to the entire Kingdom?”
I surprised myself with how bitchy I sounded, and just managed to catch myself before saying, “And who are you to judge so quickly?” because I really had no clue who the hell this guy actually was. Even Wolf looked surprised, gaping at me for a few seconds before recovering.
“Perhaps my lady would be good enough to give you a demonstration of her wares so you can see for yourself,” he told Bouncer-Genie, who still wasn’t impressed.
“Fine,” I said, acting pissed. I reached up to search through the top part of my daypack for the matches. “Though I see no reason why I should waste perfectly good magic on such nonsense. And out in the open too.”
I picked a match from the small plastic container and struck it against the side. Immediately it flared to life, burning steadily in front of us. The man’s eyes went wide and he bowed slightly.
“My apologies to you my lady. I did not realize. Your appearance is nothing like a witch.” He stepped aside and held open the tent flap for us.
“Yes, well,” I blew out the match, dropped it on the ground, and smashed it thoroughly into the dirt with my boot, “appearances can be deceiving. Keep that in mind next time.” I poked Wolf in the chest. “Remain here. I see if anything must be done, I must be the one to do it.”
I stared at him hard, trying to convey the concept that if Marianne saw him, she would just freak out again. He caught the hint.
“Indeed, my mistress.” He took up my hand, kissed it, and backed off a few steps.
I strode into the tent. I tried not to let my surprise show—the tent was bigger on the inside. A row of people ranging in age from perhaps six to thirty lined the edge of the tent. They each wore manacles on their hands, but weren’t chained individually. Instead, a single chain began on one side of the tent and wound its way through links on each manacle, chaining them all together without the need for dozens of keys. They were relatively clean and maybe even well fed. No one looked sick or malnourished.
At least they took good care of their livestock.
Then I spotted Marianne, her face streaked with dried tears, between a cocoa-skinned woman and a tired looking man. She looked up and saw me, her eyes growing wide. I gave her a hard look. Don’t get excited. Don’t act like you know me. Luckily Marianne was a smart girl. She bit her lip and tried to look elsewhere. But her feet were bare and her toes wiggled excitedly.
A man flanked by two others sat at a table, a sheet of paper and a fountain pen set before him. His belly bulged out over his pants in a rotund stomach covered with shining purple and green striped fabric. He looked like a melon, but a wealthy one. Rings set with sparkling jewels practically covered his fingers. His bald head gleamed in the dim light. I guessed the slave trade was good business. He smiled pleasantly, as if he weren’t surrounded by a line of depressed people in chains. Or maybe that was why he smiled so happily.
The two men around him were scarier, unsmiling and openly displaying wide scimitars at their waists. Both of