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Authors: Elysa Hendricks
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together. Cinnamon from the Cinnabon store mingled with the aroma of baking pretzels.His muscles twitched and his heart rate sped up. He knew he should grab Seri's arm and hustle her out, but whether for her sake or his he wasn't sure. Instead he took a deep, calming breath.
"Let's get this over with."
*** *** ***
I twisted my head to and fro, trying to see everything at once as the wizard pulled me along at a rapid pace. Sounds, colors, smells and motion rose up from everywhere. High above, glass panes in the ceiling gave a view of blue sky. Along both sides of the wide corridor filled with colorful booths, large windows displayed innumerable items, from clothing to house wares to things for which I had no name. My head swam at the quantity of items and the variety of choices available in this world.
No one guarded the treasures so casually on view, either. People moved freely among the booths, and in and out of the shops. Their voices and the laughter of the children skipping alongside nearly drowned out the sound of music playing. How different this marketplace was from those at home. Merchants there guarded their scant precious wares diligently against the beggars and thieves that abounded because of Roark's lackluster system of justice in the areas he controlled.
I wanted to stop and absorb everything, but the wizard hurried me into what appeared to be a clothing shop. Once inside, the level of commotion decreased. Different music played here, a soft, soothing tune. Though bright enough to reveal rack after rack of beautiful clothing, the lighting was muted and easier on my aching eyes.
"May I help you?" an elegant if strangely clad woman asked. Though how could I tell. Everyone I'd seen so far was dressed oddly. She gazed at the wizard with feminine interest.
"Yes, my friend needs some clothing," the wizard answered. He seemed unaware of her perusal, unaware of his masculine appeal. How unlike Donnie, who, though he'd never acted upon it during our time together, was well aware of his affect on women.
"Of course." The woman nodded and turned her gaze from the wizard to me with obvious reluctance.
I didn't understand the surge of possessiveness that made me lean in toward him. With a disappointed sigh, the woman said, "What type of attire is your friend interested in?"
Since she addressed the question to the wizard rather than me, and unsure of how to answer anyway, I shrugged.
"Casual stuff," the wizard answered. "Slacks, shorts, shirts and shoes. Also, she'll need underwear."
I grinned, recognizing his discomfiture.
"Almost a complete wardrobe," he continued. "Airlines lost her luggage."
"Airlines?" I asked, then grunted as he poked me in the ribs with his elbow.
The woman raised an eyebrow and asked me, "What size do you wear?"
"My friend doesn't speak much English," the wizard interrupted. "I don't think she knows her American size. She's been out of touch for a long time, so she's not up to date with styles and such, either. Maybe you can help her pick out something flattering."
He smiled at her, and the way the woman fell all over herself to help him made my gut churn. "I'll just wait here while you ladies shop." He plopped himself down on a chair in an open area of the large store.
The woman quickly turned professional. She stuffed me into a small stall lined with mirrors, and handed me item after item of clothing to try on. Usually clothes held little interest for me; they were merely something to cover and protect me from the elements--and looking back, the ones I'd worn had done exceedingly well consider their design. But these articles of clothing were different. Made of soft, colorful cloth, they felt good against my skin. When I looked in the mirror I barely recognized the tall, shapely woman looking back at me. I was like a courtier!
I studied several small tags attached to the clothing. Some of the words about the care of the fabric I could read, but being unfamiliar with this world's
"Let's get this over with."
*** *** ***
I twisted my head to and fro, trying to see everything at once as the wizard pulled me along at a rapid pace. Sounds, colors, smells and motion rose up from everywhere. High above, glass panes in the ceiling gave a view of blue sky. Along both sides of the wide corridor filled with colorful booths, large windows displayed innumerable items, from clothing to house wares to things for which I had no name. My head swam at the quantity of items and the variety of choices available in this world.
No one guarded the treasures so casually on view, either. People moved freely among the booths, and in and out of the shops. Their voices and the laughter of the children skipping alongside nearly drowned out the sound of music playing. How different this marketplace was from those at home. Merchants there guarded their scant precious wares diligently against the beggars and thieves that abounded because of Roark's lackluster system of justice in the areas he controlled.
I wanted to stop and absorb everything, but the wizard hurried me into what appeared to be a clothing shop. Once inside, the level of commotion decreased. Different music played here, a soft, soothing tune. Though bright enough to reveal rack after rack of beautiful clothing, the lighting was muted and easier on my aching eyes.
"May I help you?" an elegant if strangely clad woman asked. Though how could I tell. Everyone I'd seen so far was dressed oddly. She gazed at the wizard with feminine interest.
"Yes, my friend needs some clothing," the wizard answered. He seemed unaware of her perusal, unaware of his masculine appeal. How unlike Donnie, who, though he'd never acted upon it during our time together, was well aware of his affect on women.
"Of course." The woman nodded and turned her gaze from the wizard to me with obvious reluctance.
I didn't understand the surge of possessiveness that made me lean in toward him. With a disappointed sigh, the woman said, "What type of attire is your friend interested in?"
Since she addressed the question to the wizard rather than me, and unsure of how to answer anyway, I shrugged.
"Casual stuff," the wizard answered. "Slacks, shorts, shirts and shoes. Also, she'll need underwear."
I grinned, recognizing his discomfiture.
"Almost a complete wardrobe," he continued. "Airlines lost her luggage."
"Airlines?" I asked, then grunted as he poked me in the ribs with his elbow.
The woman raised an eyebrow and asked me, "What size do you wear?"
"My friend doesn't speak much English," the wizard interrupted. "I don't think she knows her American size. She's been out of touch for a long time, so she's not up to date with styles and such, either. Maybe you can help her pick out something flattering."
He smiled at her, and the way the woman fell all over herself to help him made my gut churn. "I'll just wait here while you ladies shop." He plopped himself down on a chair in an open area of the large store.
The woman quickly turned professional. She stuffed me into a small stall lined with mirrors, and handed me item after item of clothing to try on. Usually clothes held little interest for me; they were merely something to cover and protect me from the elements--and looking back, the ones I'd worn had done exceedingly well consider their design. But these articles of clothing were different. Made of soft, colorful cloth, they felt good against my skin. When I looked in the mirror I barely recognized the tall, shapely woman looking back at me. I was like a courtier!
I studied several small tags attached to the clothing. Some of the words about the care of the fabric I could read, but being unfamiliar with this world's
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