She did not have to travel far. Her accommodation was situated in an alley off Main Street, the main thoroughfare of the low end of town. Anything could be bought or arranged here: whores, black-market goods, poison, a new identity, someone else’s possessions, someone else’s life. Competition was fierce among the whores and her presence had been quickly noted and challenged. As Emerahl took her place at the alley corner, she looked for now-familiar hostile faces. The dark-skinned twins standing just past the other corner of the alley had tried to intimidate her into leaving, but a small demonstration of her Gifts had convinced them to leave her alone. The sharp-nosed girl across the road had attempted to befriend her, but Emerahl had turned her away. She was not going to be here long enough to need friends, and did not intend to share her customers or income with another.

A chill rain began to fall. Emerahl drew magic and shaped it into a barrier over her head. She noted how the dark twins huddled close under a window awning. One cupped her hands and red light began to spill from between her fingers. The other twin wrapped her hands around her sister’s.

Across the street, the sharp-nosed girl quickly became soaked, turning her from a young woman into a bedraggled child. To Emerahl’s amusement, the girl’s clinging wet clothes attracted a customer. She nodded to herself as the pair disappeared. Though she did not want the girl’s friendship, she had enough fellow-feeling for these street whores that seeing them courting illness bothered her.

The rain became heavier. Pedestrians grew fewer, and most barely spared the street girls a glance. Emerahl watched as a pair of young men swaggered down the opposite side of the road. One looked up at her, then nudged his companion with an elbow. The other began to look in her direction, but as he was about to see her something blocked their view.

Emerahl frowned at the covered platten that had pulled up in front of her. Then she saw the man looking at her from behind an opening in the cover. Middle-aged, she noted, but well dressed. She smiled. “Greetings,” she said. “Are you looking for something?”

His eyes narrowed and a wry smile curled his lips. “Indeed I am.”

She then sauntered up to the opening.

“Something I can help you with?” she murmured.

“Perhaps,” he said. “I was looking for a little company. Some stimulating conversation.”

“I can offer you stimulating and conversation,” she replied.

He laughed, then his eyes strayed to the magical shield above her.

“A useful Gift.”

“I have many useful Gifts,” she said slyly. “Some are useful to me, some may be useful to you.”

His eyes narrowed, though whether at the warning or invitation she wasn’t sure. “What is your name?”

“Emmea.”

The opening in the platten cover widened. “Get in, Emmea.”

“That will cost you at least—”