At first he’d had to ask people in the marketplace if they’d seen a runaway tubb-oh carrying a girl. That had gotten him her general direction and then, when he’d gotten out of the overcrowded area, his sensitive Kindred nose had helped him track her.
By now Need was so attuned to the girl, he would know her sweet, fresh scent anywhere. But there was another scent entwined with it that worried him—the faint, overpoweringly floral scent of yarrow root powder. Had Lan’ara gotten a dose of it as well? And if so, what kind of trip was she having? Was she somewhere scared to death, thinking that an army of demons was coming to drag her to the Seven Hells?
Need hoped that wasn’t true. A good yarrow root trip only lasted a few hours. But a bad one lasted an entire year—it would be awful if Lan’ara was stuck in some imaginary hellscape she was unable to escape from.
But even if she’d had a good trip, she could still be in danger. People on a good yarrow trip saw everything around them as heavenly and beautiful. Lan’ara would be completely unprepared for any danger she might meet if she thought everyone around her was a lovely new friend.
Need stopped in the middle of the street and raked a hand through his hair. Seven Hells, he had to find her—and soon! Now where had that fucking pink tubb-oh gotten to?
Thirty-Six
“Well, well, dearie—you’re a beauty and no mistake!” Mistress Bigaboo was a full-figured goddess with a flowing red mane of hair and wide, emerald eyes. When she smiled, she showed the same brilliantly white teeth as the two kind strangers who had brought Lan’ara to her in the first place. And when she laughed, it was like the tinkling of delicate music.
The clothing she was wearing was the finest Lan’ara had ever seen—a silver tunic and skirt with a broad, golden sash wrapped around her waist. Little pink shoes peeped out from under her skirt too—as dainty and fine as any lady’s.
“Thank you,” Lan’ara breathed, taking her new hostess in. “You’re absolutely lovely yourself, if you don’t mind me saying so, my Lady.”
Mistress Bigaboo blushed prettily.
“Well now, as it happens, I don’t mind a bit,” she declared. “And aren’t you a sweet thing? The customers are going to love that attitude of yours.”
Lan’ara frowned.
“Customers? What customers? Do you wish me to work in your shop?”
“Shop?” Mistress Bigaboo burst into that lovely, angelic laughter again. “Why no, dearie! That’s not what I meant at all. Never mind—you’ll see.”
“See what?” Lan’ara felt more and more confused. The bump on the back of her head was really hurting and she kept having memories of Need and their walk through the marketplace. Where was the big Kindred now? As nice as everyone was here in the gorgeous golden palace, Lan’ara missed him and wanted to go home—or at least back to The Dark Heart, which wasn’t technically her home yet but hopefully would be soon.
“You just come with me, my sweet,” Mistress Bigaboo said to her. “We’ll get you dressed up proper-like before you see your first customer, so we will.”
“You want me to change clothes?” Lan’ara asked. But then she remembered that she was wet through from the liquid in the tubb-oh. “Actually, it would be nice to put on something warm and dry,” she added.
“Oh, I think we can find something dry at least.” Mistress Bigaboo’s lovely emerald eyes flashed. “Come along, dearie. Let’s see what we can find for you.”
She took Lan’ara to an opulent bedroom with a thick woven carpet on the floor and a huge canopy bed in the center. There were golden bedclothes and the canopy was made of fine silk. A broad window overlooked a lovely view of a clear blue river with rainbow colored fish jumping in its clean waters. A soft, fragrant breeze blew in and caressed Lan’ara’s cheek playfully.
“Here now. Put this on, dearie, and you’ll be ready to work.”
Lan’ara dragged her eyes away from the beautiful scene outside the window and saw that Mistress Bigaboo was holding out the most gorgeous gown she had ever seen. It was a shimmery silver-green that seemed to change color to silvery-blue depending on how the light hit it. The fabric was made of some diaphanous silk which practically floated on the air, it was so light.
“Oh, for me?” Lan’ara took the lovely thing carefully. “Thank you, Mistress Bigaboo—you’re too kind!”
“Why, you’re welcome, dearie. It should show off your assets to perfection. Now put it on.”
Lan’ara turned modestly and did as she was directed, divesting herself of the sodden shirtdress she had been wearing and slipping into the silky gown.
She was a little concerned when she saw how low cut the new dress was in front—it left the curves of her breasts almost completely bare and hardly even covered her nipples! Also, it was cut rather high in the skirt area—a long slit ran almost from her navel to her knees, which would have put her panties on display—if she’d had any, which she didn’t.