“Ah. Visitors.” Like it was some minor interruption, Daniel handed the pail off to me. “Slip away,” he whispered. “Quick and quiet.” He stepped forward to meet them. One man in a hand-stenciled T-shirt against all that flash hardware? Was he out of his mind?

My slumbering survival instincts finally kicked in. Clutching the pail, I scorched through my options: duck and run, hide, get invisible! Hammered into me over and over in the den. Making a stand? Never part of the lesson plan. Let the other guy take care of himself. So why wasn’t I gone already?

Behind me, a keening wail rose above the flame crackle and the dealer woman’s sobs. Not human, not animal. Couldn’t place it. More of my comic-book nightmare? The day slid further toward the surreal.

Like such apparitions showed up often at the Souk, Daniel raised a hand in greeting. “Can I help you gentlemen?” He shoved the book crate behind him with a sideways kick.

The shortest of the posse cradled his complicated weapon and drew his mask down to his chest. He was ruddy-cheeked and confident, a baby version of Bright. “You know what we’re here about, book man.”

“I do?”

The guy just smirked.

“I hope it’s not to buy books. I seem to be fresh out of anything readable.”

The pail weighed heavy in my hand as I struggled to put two and two together. Was I meant to hide it? Spook it out of there, along with myself? Like the Ninja Girl tossing me her pack? Had to be it. These dudes wouldn’t notice some den rat taking a fade while they focused on Daniel.

It would be nice to be the hero for once, but now was not the time. I had my marching orders. I let the pail drift behind my butt and slide-stepped backward, a special Spunk maneuver to put distance between you and an attacker without seeming to move at all. But behind me, that shrill whine was closing in, dropping in pitch till I pegged it as a vehicle. The posse’s reinforcements? Was I trapped already? I looked for a clue from Daniel, but he seemed to have forgotten me. New fear gripped me as he faced the thugs with nothing but a few books and a smile. If he refused to pay again, they might just shoot him, like they’d maybe done to the lamp seller. And I was helpless to stop them.

Daniel tossed his handful aside. “Hate to keep wasting your time.”

Short Guy shrugged. “You heard the deal. You want your goods safe, you gotta pay up.”

“Yeah, well, so little left to protect. I’ll take a pass.”

“Still got your space. That’ll cost you now.”

“I pay my dues to the Merchants’ Association.”

“That’s them. This is us.”