***
We stop by to see Neveah first. Oscar shows her the bag full of trampled plants. She nods and shrugs. He slings it back over his shoulder. She surreptitiously passes some coins to Apollon, who pockets them and murmurs something to her. Jonas squeezes her hand as we turn to go.
Meanwhile, I'm looking nervously around for that old hag, expecting her to leap out at me and start screaming for the slavers. As we walk away, Apollon bumps my shoulder with his. "Don't worry," he says. "No one's going to bother you when you're with us." I take a deep breath. The exposed-nerve sensation begins to dull, but the nausea remains.
"How come you two aren't slaves?" I ask. Sure, they're big and badass, but wouldn't that make them all the more sellable?
Apollon shrugs. "We have an understanding with Matthew." Decidedly vague. He flashes me a grin.
I eye him as we walk.
There's a tent-covered stand near the center of the marketplace that has a rack of hanging garments. Apollon and Jonas are on friendly terms with the man who tends it. We rifle through the items, and eventually it's Oscar that finds my new jacket. It's worn black leather, and there's a hole in the left sleeve, just below the elbow, but it's a touch bigger than the one I wear now and it zips all the way from waist to chin, with a high collar that will keep my neck warm. There's a blanket hung up to partition off a changing area. I try the jacket on and I'm hooked. I feel like I can breathe again. We have less luck as far as pants are concerned. For the time being I'm stuck with what I have. But we find a soft, worn t-shirt for cheap. Of course, it's the peddler who comes out way ahead in the end. He takes my current jacket— which happens to be in better condition than the one I'm getting— and another silver coin on top of it. As far as I'm concerned, though, I'm getting a bargain.
We make one more stop before going home— a knife dealer. Rows of gleaming metal are arranged neatly on a blanket that's spread over a line of upside-down crates. There's a broad range of products, from salvaged metal spikes taped onto makeshift handles, to the real thing— weighted and balanced blades with carefully sharpened edges. Apollon and Jonas peruse the knives for me, taking only a moment to examine the goods. They narrow it down quickly to three different knives, then stand mumbling to each other, passing them back and forth, testing the weight in their hands. They discard the third choice, and turn to me.
"Try these," Jonas says, holding one out.
I don't know what it is I'm trying, but I take the knife, wrap my fingers around the hilt, and attempt to look like I know what I'm doing.
Apollon crosses his arms and smiles at me.
I frown, ignoring him, and pass the knife back to Jonas. He hands me the second one.
As soon as I take it, I'm sure. I look down at the gleaming steel of the curved blade, the soft brown leather wrapped around the hilt. "This one," I say.
"Don't choose it because it's pretty," Apollon says.
"I didn't," I answer. I look at the knife-dealer, who has been watching us the whole time.
"It's a good choice," he says. He has these weird, keenly blue eyes that make me think of a wolf.
"How much?" I ask, figuring we will be here for a year bargaining on this knife, and then I'll need to choose one that I can actually afford.
He shrugs. Again, something in his body language seems not quite human. I'm fascinated by it, really, but I try to look bored. He glances from the knife in my hand to my face. "A special knife like that should have a special owner," he says, winking. OK, maybe a coyote. "I'll give it to you for four silver. Hardly making a profit at all on that. Especially if you consider the time I put in."
I glance at Apollon and Jonas. They look dumbfounded. I consider the knife in my hand.
"We'll take it," Apollon says firmly, jumping on the moment. He's already holding out the coins to the dealer.
The man takes them, but looks at me as he pockets them. "Make sure you oil it regularly," he says, and glances at the sky. "Especially in this weather."
I nod, eyeing him. "Thanks," I say.
Apollon, Jonas, and Oscar are already starting to walk away, but I pause.
"You made this?" I ask, looking from the knife to him.
He nods.
"Nice work," I say.
He looks pleased, but says nothing.
I'm thinking about catching up with my friends, but my eyes fall on the makeshift table. He sells belt sheaths as well, and I need one. I point to something suitable. "How much?"
"Four silver," he says, the same price as my knife. This is his normal price, I can tell, because they're definitely not of equal value.
I toss him a five, pick up the sheath, give him a nod and head off.
My friends have stopped a short distance away to wait for me.
"I thought I should have somewhere to put it," I explain, showing them the sheath.
"I thought we should get the hell out of there before he changes his mind about the price," Apollon grins.
"Guess being a girl's not all bad," I say, giving him a look. He narrows his eyes at me as we turn and walk toward home.
A high-pitched, blood-curdling shriek from somewhere far away makes me reconsider my position.