Will had his feet up on his desk and was enjoying some long awaited silence. It felt a bit strange to be alone. Only a few days ago he would have been used to it. Janie had always left in the evenings. He rarely had visitors. The lighthouse was built in an area of the town which did not have a lot of nighttime activity.

All the chaos and excitement that had happened the last few days was what his life had once been like all the time. Now that he had it again it made him realized how much he’d missed it. It was suddenly impossible to ignore how restless and caged he’d felt for the last two years.

He should have been tired, but he wasn’t. He found himself wishing he had something interesting to do tonight. He was in the middle of trying to figure out if he should go to bed anyway, or stay up and work a little more when someone tried to open the front door. The lock held firmly. Then a loud knock followed.

“Sterling!” A female voice called from outside. “Sterling, getcher ass out here!”

Will sighed. “You’d think by now I’d have learned to be careful what I wish for,” he muttered, heading out to the front room. He took his sword belt off the coat hook and hung it over his shoulder as he walked.

“Who’s there?” he called when he reached the door. After last night’s encounter with Timmonds he wasn’t feeling like taking any chances.

“Yer Cap’n!” came the voice, now laughing. The door pounded again.

“Vex,” Will muttered starting down the series of locks that kept his door secure, unlatching one after another. “She’s certainly living up to her name.” He pulled it opened and leaned in the doorway. Outside stood Captain Vex, Mister North, and two other sailors, a short, sturdy looking woman who was new to him and a tall, thickly built young man that he’d seen on the Kestrel yesterday.

“What can I do for you, Captain?” Will asked.

“You c’n come drink wit’ us,” Belita grinned. She’d obviously already had a few, and by the looks of it so had the rest of her crew. “I wan’ tae git tae know my new Navigator.”

Will grabbed his hat and stepped outside. It was a warm night. The moon was bright. He shrugged. “Why not.”

Belita and her crew of three let out a small cheer and Will took a minute to lock his door.

“How many locks you got? Damn!” the big fellow behind Mister North asked.

“Five,” Will said. “Four of them are enchanted. They engage other protections.” He only locked three of them, then he turned around and gave Belita an over-exaggerated bow, “What’s our course, Captain?”

“Why don’t ye tell us, Navigator,” Vex grinned. “That’s wha’ ye were hired for!” Her seafarer’s brogue was much thicker with the addition of the alcohol she’d been enjoying. “This ‘s our first time in Bastard’s Bay! What d’ ye bastards do fer fun ‘round ‘ere?”

“Well, Merry Mary’s is a decent place. It’s a gambling house, a brothel, and they have a decent variety show most nights,” Will said. “Or, there’s the Captain’s Daughter, down on the docks. It’s a fairly typical tavern for a town like this. Booze, brawls, seafolk.”

“Sounds like my kinda place, but I’m likin’ th’ sound o’ yer gamblin’ house first. Lead on!” Belita said, turning toward the street and raising her finger in the air dramatically.

“Well, for starters…” Will said, then hooked her arm and pivoted her so her she was headed in the right direction. North and the other two laughed. Belita grinned.

“See Sterling, already earnin’ yer cut,” she said, giving him a friendly punch in the shoulder. Her boot heels clicked down the cobblestones. Will had to take a few quick steps to catch up.

“How’d your requisitions go, Mister North?” Will asked.

“Fine, sir, just fine,” North said. “Your merchant friend is a blessing.”

“Don’t tell him that. He likes his cutthroat reputation,” Will smirked.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s well earned. He seems shrewd as a slighted djinn, but it ain’t me footin’ the bill so I don’t much care. I just gave him my lists and said you sent me. He didn’t even balk. Said he’d handle it. We started getting deliveries of goods less than two hours later. He didn’t even ask questions about all your damn ship’s boats.” North shook his head in bewildered amusement.

“I have him well trained,” Will said with a small shrug. “He and I have a standing bet going. Every time I give him a requisition list, I include something that I don’t really need and don’t think he’ll be able to get. Every time he can’t fill that specific item, he owes me a bottle of good rum. If he correctly guesses which item is the one I don’t actually need, I own him a bottle. It’s been a long time since either one of us owed the other a bottle.”

“So what did you include that you didn’t need this time?” North asked. “I ain’t got a lot of room on the Kestrel. If there’s somethin’ I can leave behind, I’d like to know.”

“A bear trap,” Will laughed. “I thought for sure I would owe him a bottle for that one, but when his invoice was delivered it was on there. That wiley bastard managed to track down a bear trap on an island without any bears.”

Belita and the crew laughed. North snorted. “I wondered what the hell that was about. It’s in the Quartermaster’s lock up now. I’ll make sure it ends up where it belongs.”

“I kinda wish he’d guessed right. He charged me enough for it to buy himself a half a case of rum,” Will laughed.

“Sounds like he found a way to beat your game,” Belita said.

The realization had Will stopping in his tracks for a moment. He cursed and shook his head, then kept walking, catching up in a few steps. “That son of a goat is using our bet to pad the bill.”

The Kestrel’s crew laughed. Belita looked over her shoulder with an amused expression on her face. “Guess we know why ye’re a cartographer and not a merchant.”

Will sighed and nodded, “I’ve been told I’m way too trusting.” He tugged Belita’s arm again to turn her down a new street. “Straight from here until you see the red lights out front.”

“New heading, Helmsman!” Belita called out loudly.

“New heading!” the big man behind her echoed.

“I’m going to guess you’re our Helmsman?” Will said dryly.

“Aye, Mister Sterling. Colin Strong, at your service.” Colin shook Will’s hand. His stature and his grip lived up to his name.

“Pleased to meet you, Colin,” Will said, shaking his hand a bit after he’d retrieved it. “Remind me not to arm wrestle you.”

Belita laughed again. Colin had the good grace to look apologetic. “Sorry ‘bout that. Hope you don’t mind the Kestrel having a Navigator and a Helmsman.”

“That’s fine by me. A lot of ships have both. Usually they’re much bigger ships than the Kestrel, but it’s not like I’ve never seen it happen before. Besides, from the looks of things you’re a lot better suited to the wheel than I am.”

“Thank you, sir.” Colin nodded.

“S’ why I hired ‘im,” Belita interjected. “Tell Sterling what ye were doin’ b’fore ye joined my crew.”

“Ah…” Colin said, looking a bit embarrassed. “I drove a cart.”

“He pulled a cart. For a bricklayer. In Travenfjord,” Belita corrected.

Will was impressed to the point of skepticism. Travenfjord was built on a cliffside. There was only one street from the top to the waterline. It switched back around fifteen times. Hauling anything there would be challenging. Hauling bricks would be like torture. He could think of hard labor sentences that would be easier. “That’s madness,” Will said, not hiding his disbelief at all.

“Aye,” Belita agreed.

“It wasn’t so bad,” Colin said, trying to downplay it.

“Did anyone else do it?” Belita asked.

“Well, yeah. the other carts had mules though. I could never afford one,” Colin said, still trying to sound self-deprecating but not quite realizing how he’d just implicated himself.

The whole crew laughed, including Will. “He seems like a good catch, Captain,” Will chuckled, clapping his hand on Colin’s shoulder for a moment.

“He started as a swab an’ worked ‘is way up. Dinnae take long. Th’ boy’s a workhorse an’ he catches on quick,” Belita said, still walking with a purpose down the middle of the darkened road.

“It wasn’t so hard,” Colin shrugged.

“After hauling bricks in Travenfjord, I guess it wouldn’t be,” Will chuckled. He turned to the woman walking next to Mister North. “What about you, ma’am? What’s your role on the ship?”

She was short, sturdy, with light brown hair that was just beginning to grey. It was pulled back into a braided tail that hung down to her shoulders. She dressed in men’s grey trousers, but a faded red woman’s blouse, which was stretched near to bursting across her impressive chest. She was nearly as gifted in the front as Bella. Against the front of her blouse a narrow bosun’s pipe hung from a cord around her neck. A bowler style hat on her head, which she tipped in Will’s direction. “Danica North,” she said. “First Mate.”

Will tipped his hat in return. “A pleasure, Ma’am. Related to this North?”

“My husband.” She smiled warmly at Mister North. He put a meaty arm about her shoulders.

“She thinks your manifest is hilarious,” North grunted, giving his wife a wry look.

“Our master rigger was fit to be tied when she found out how many boats you want to hang from the Kestrel,” Danica smiled. “She’s pretty unflappable, so I like anything that gets a rise out of her.”

“I hope meeting her goes as well as meeting you,” Will said, looking chagrined.

“There’s a betting pool going about what she’ll do to you. Right now I think tied to the mast has the best odds,” Danica grinned.

“My money’s on you waking up lashed into your hammock,” Colin added. Apparently no one had told him Will was going to be sleeping in the Captain’s bunk.

“It’s been a while since I had to practice my escape artistry. I guess I should brush up before we leave.” Will’s chagrined look graduated all the way to worry.

“Couldnae hurt,” the Captain said from ahead of them.

________________

“Oh no, not you,” the wiry redheaded man in the green sequined coat said loudly as he twisted his way through the crowd to stop the crew of the Kestrel at the inner doorway where they were checking their weapons. Will passed his rapier to the pretty girl behind the desk, then held up his hands in defence as the wiry man approached.

“I’m not here to gamble, Chance,” Will pleaded calmly. “I’m not going to set foot near the game tables or the competition room. I just brought you some new customers. I’ll stay in the lounge and have a few drinks, promise. Caine won’t let anything get out of hand.”

Chance stopped for a long moment, thinking, seeming to come to a decision when his eyes spied Colin. A red eyebrow raised. “Fine. Lounge only. And the moment anything weird starts to happen, or anyone started getting unruly, anyone at all, you’re gone. I ain’t taking chances.”

“Well that’s about three kinds of ironic,” Will smiled. Chance scowled at him. “Fine, fine,” Will agreed. “Have fun, folks. If you want me, I’ll be right in there,” Will pointed across the room to a doorway with a pair of gauzy curtains drawn across it.

Mister and Missus North headed for the big bar in the gambling den. Colin Strong found his arm had been hooked by Chance and was being led away, seeming a bit confused but listening to Chance talk. Belita gave Will a small wave and headed toward the poker tables on the other side of the large room.

Merry Mary’s was a surprisingly fine place. It was raucous, loud, full of drunk sailors gambling, boasting, and blowing off steam before or after a voyage, but the energy of the place was positive. Mary, the owner, had started the place as a brothel, and built it, expanded it bit by bit. Hiring Chance as the floor manager had been a sound decision. For whatever reason, both Chance and Mary agreed that the best way to make money was to make sure there was never a time when the customers had to stop drinking, gambling and whoring. That meant that Chance and Mary were ruthless when it came to problems.

There were no warnings at Merry Mary’s. Employees who screwed up were quietly fired on the spot. Excessive drunks were escorted out into the street and encouraged to come again another time. Customers who caused trouble were efficiently tossed out. The fun never stopped at Mary’s because anything that threatened the fun was killed on sight. That reputation let people relax, and also served to keep people on good behavior even when they weren’t sober.

The Lounge was the brothel side of the establishment, as well as the general entertainment area. A thin blond woman wearing a gauzy, see-through top and a slinky dress designed to look something like a mermaid’s tail was sitting on a piano and singing a raucous sea chanty to a crowd of boisterous onlookers. Working girls moved between clients with enticing looks and luring words. Small alcoves dotted the large room. Some were open, others were closed off by drawn curtains of embroidered fabric. In the alcoves sat entertainers of various kinds plying their trades. Two masseurs, a man and a woman each dressed in scant white cloth, sat on their tables waiting for clients. A female barber dressed in an apron and nothing else spun the red and white sign pole outside her alcove announcing to the room that she was ready to clean up the next scruffy sailor to grace her chair. An elegant looking middle aged woman in a low cut red dress was negotiating with a customer, enticing him into buying one of the many small bottles and pills that lined the shelves of her small apothecary shop.

In another alcove, the only one with a door at the back, stood a tall, statuesque woman with a blond braid dressed in crisscrossing strips of leather. In her alcove hung many lengths of rope, paddles, lashes, chains, and crops. She defiantly eyed the crowd as they passed her until a craggy faced sailor did something wrong, or perhaps right. She barked something at him, pointing and ordering him to stand before her. He slowly did looking, confused, intrigued and worried.The curtain shut. The sounds of fierce orders carried into the main room for a few more moments before the sound of a slamming door echoed from beyond the curtain.

Belladonna Fortuna was lounging in her alcove, rocking her chair back on two legs with her bare feet up on a round table draped in purple velvet. She swung her big toe back and forth to the music showing an eye catching amount of olive toned leg. A large crystal ball sat in the center of the table. Her cards were stacked neatly next to it. A number of esoteric charts of the human body were featured on the walls, as well as a large ornate mirror. A few shelves dotted with small earthenware pots and glass jars filled out the space.

A slightly nervous looking young man approached her and she spoke with him, bringing her feet down and leaning forward. Her enormous chest strained against the confines of her off-the-shoulder blouse. She gestured to the seat opposite her. The young man came into the alcove and sat. She pulled a cord. The drapes swung shut.

Will smiled, amused. He’d seen Bella work before. It was usually the same routine. Most of the time she did a little cold reading, guessed some generic specifics to draw information out, did some parlor tricks, read a palm, did a card spread, and sent the poor saps on their way. Most of them left without ever knowing they were in the presence of an actual witch. Her guise as a fortune teller was a masterful camouflage, allowing her to hide in plain sight.

Sometimes, if the right questions were asked, and the right price was agreed to, Bella’s customers would get a genuine Divination. They didn’t always know that’s what they were getting, but they’d find out soon enough just how accurate the fortune teller at the brothel really was. It was a decent gig. Modest pay, a place to stay, in-house protection (which, for a N’madi witch was a large perk), and no one judging her for her promiscuity. Among the staff at Merry Mary’s, Bella got teased for being the chaste one. Her fortune telling was only half the work she did though.

The other half was making sure the working girls didn’t get pregnant and didn’t get sick. Part of the benefit of working for Mary as a prostitute was that there was an actual witch around to provide hex bags and curative rituals to ward off any social diseases picked up from the sailors. The girls didn’t even have to pay Bella themselves. Chance took care of everything, and Bella was paid reasonably well for her work. She probably could have made more if she was negotiating with each of the girls individually, but steady work made the income reliable and the other benefits made up for the making less money for each bag or ritual.

Will walked over to the small bar and ordered himself a brandy. He nodded to Greyson Caine, Mary’s head of security, who was sitting at the bar a few seats down occasionally eyeing people in the crowd. Caine nodded back. Will didn’t have many people he considered friends, and even fewer that he actually trusted. Caine was in both categories. Merry Mary’s had been Will’s favorite haunt back when he and Jack were partners. He’d spent a lot of time in this lounge. Caine was a tough nut to crack, but slowly they’d gotten to know each other. Now, other than Janie, Caine was the person Will trusted most.

He was a few years older than Will, but he looked like he could be Will’s father. He also looked like a drunk. His eyes were a bit sunken and his head and face had been shaved days ago leaving short bristly stubble of the same length all over. His skin was a bit sallow and his nose had obviously been broken more than once and not quite set properly, making his whole face look crooked. He was slouched at the bar with a slightly dented metal tankard in front of him. Only the patch sewn to his grey tunic featuring the silhouette of a dancing girl with a tambourine on a red background - the same image painted on the sign out front - marked Caine as being associated with the business at all. Still, nearly everyone knew who Caine was and gave him wide berth.

Bastard’s Bay was a place where reputation was everything. It didn’t matter who you knew. It only mattered who knew you.

Will’s reputation had spread among the ports and ships and was surprisingly widespread, at least among merchants and sea captains, so it was fair to say that he was moderately famous, particularly among serious seafarers and explorers. That didn’t mean much in Bastard’s Bay. In spite of his history of adventure, not many people cared about the guy who lived in the lighthouse and made fancy maps. That was just local color, which there was already a lot of. Caine was different. He was a true local celebrity, and he hated it. He was one of those people who stories just collected about, but no one really knew if they were true. What everyone knew was true was that he had one of the most dangerous reputations on the whole island.

The rumor was that he had once been a Magistrate Centurion. Some even said he had been a Legate or a Praetor. Will doubted those were true, but he had to admit that he wouldn’t have been surprised if they were. Once you got past his appearance, he was the sort of guy who seemed like he really should be out leading armies and hunting down evil warlocks and such. Caine never confirmed or denied any of it. What was known for sure was that Caine was hands down the toughest man on the island. Wherever he’d learned to fight, it wasn’t like anything Will had ever seen before. The gruff looking man’s entire body was a weapon. He’d seen Caine fight enough times, and even alongside him once when a particularly large brawl broke out. Will was no slouch at fisticuffs. He’d been in more brawls than he could count, but he’d never want to tangle with Caine.

He sat down. The bartender put a cup in front of him. “Thought you were banned forever?” Caine said, not looking at Will but clearly talking to him.

“I was. I guess I’m not anymore,” Will shrugged, taking a sip.

“Not many people on the ‘forever’ list. Even fewer to come off it. What’s the secret?” Caine wasn’t the sort for idle conversation. His tone was casual, but he wanted to know.

“Bring a cute boy for Chance?” Will shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

“Chance does like cute boys,” Caine chuckled. “You’d think he’d have all he could handle with the ones who work here, but he’s got a thing about not mixing business and pleasure.” Caine took a pull from his tankard.

“Must be frustrating for him, surrounded by all the willing lads, but not letting himself get involved,” Will said, his respect for Chance going up a bit.

“It’s something about professionalism. Also, he’s a romantic. Wants it to be ‘real,’” Caine shrugged. “Hasn’t figured out that everything real starts as two people just trying to figure out what real is.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Will brought his glass to his lips. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a slightly paunchy fisherman who had one of the working girls’ wrists in his hand. She was trying to pull it back gently, maintaining her charm, but to Will it looked like she was trying to get free. He was about to say something to Caine when the bald man turned in his stool and leaned back against the bar, watching the tug-of-war. The movement caught the fisherman’s eye. He locked eyes with Caine. Confusion, then worry washed over his face. He looked down at his own hand and then let go of the girl’s wrist like it had burned him. He looked back up at Caine who nodded to him and turned around again.

Will heard the fisherman mutter an apology to the girl. She took it in stride, clearly relieved, but treating it all as though it were a misunderstanding. She said her goodbyes and then walked like a cat across the room scanning for a new mark.

Will shook his head, impressed with the whole scene. He’d seen it before, but it was always fun to watch. That was the power of reputation. The locals knew Caine’s law. He made a big show of complaining loudly any time he had to get up from the bar to do his job. Will guessed it was an act, like just about everything else about Merry Mary’s, but all good lies have a grain of truth to them. Caine hated to do his job. Not because he was lazy, but because that meant things had already gone too far. So if Caine had to get up, someone was getting tossed out.

Some of the other security guys had tried to adopt Caine’s law, but none of them had the reputation or the presence to pull it off. They often ended up escalating things. Apparently being able to stop a conflict before it started wasn’t something just anyone could do.

That was why Caine was the only member of the security team in the Lounge. It wasn’t because Caine was so tough and incredible that he never needed help. Sometimes he did. It was because having other security around actually increased the number of incidents Caine had to deal with.

Will finished his drink, enjoying the warm, floating feeling as the alcohol started to kick in.

“I hear you’re going on an adventure and taking our fortune teller with you,” Caine said, wiping the beer from his mouth.

“That’s the plan,” Will nodded, pushing his drink forward for a refill. “You folks going to be alright here? I know she does a lot more for you than tell fortunes.”

“The new apothecary is pretty good with tinctures,” Caine said nodding across the room to the woman selling drugs and potions. “She thinks she can handle getting rid of any kind of scratch the girls pick up from the sailors. They all have those hex bags now, so that’s not a worry. Should be fine. We’ll miss her though. Bella’s good people,”

“That she is,” Will agreed.

“You take care of her, a’right? She’s pretty tough, but the ocean’s tougher, an’ I know the kind of scrapes you get in,” Caine turned to look in Will’s direction.

Will was instantly anxious. Caine could have that effect. “I’ll do everything I can to keep her safe,” he said.

“No you won’t,” Caine said, raising a silver-streaked eyebrow. “Doing everything you could would mean not taking her with you. How many people have left with you and not come back?”

Will’s brow knitted. He liked Caine, but the craggy bastard wasn’t exactly a diplomat. “Now that’s not fair…” Will started. Caine held a hand up.

“I’m not blaming you for anything. Everyone knows you’re cursed. Hell, I’ve seen it, stuff just goes wrong around you. That’s why I’m talking, alright? You sometimes leap before you look. All I’m saying is be more careful than usual,” Caine took another drink. “Call it a favor to me. She comes back in the same condition she leaves in, we’re even.”

Will let out a single laugh, “That sounds fine to me.”

Caine grunted and pushed his tankard over for a refill. Then he got up from his stool. The whole room quieted. Caine let out a grumbly breath. “I’m just takin’ a leak, ya nervous bastards,” he said loudly. There was a small ripple of laughter and the noise rose back up to it’s usual cacophany as Caine vanished into the games room.

Will stared into his cup. Caine was right. He’d decided to haul Bella along on the journey on a whim. He hadn’t put enough thought into it. His instincts were usually good, and he trusted them, but that didn’t mean he didn’t still have to consider the details.

Was this really a good idea? He always cautioned against taking inexperienced people on expeditions. Treks into dangerous, isolated areas were something people needed to build up to. Everyone had to rely on everyone else so it was important for everyone to have the necessary skills under their belts first before they put people’s lives at risk from lack of experience. Bella was a competent witch, but she had no sailing or wilderness survival skills whatsoever. He was breaking his own rules, and he was doing it for selfish reasons. She might be able to hold his bad luck at bay, but what was in it for her? Was this good for Bella?

He looked over at her alcove. The curtain was open again. She had her feet up on the table. He stood up and walked across the room. It was swaying slightly. Or he was.

Bella noticed him coming and smiled, sliding her skirt a little higher up her thigh. He grinned.

“Well hello sailor, come to hear your fortune?” she said, her tone tinted with mocking charm.

“Yours, actually,” Will said. “Have a few minutes?”

“I’m working…” Bella tapped the table with her finger.

Will fished a pair of coins out of the pouch on his belt and set them on the purple velvet. She pulled the curtain.

Bella swung her feet off the table, stood up on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. They shared a hug for a moment before Bella asked, “What’s going on?” as she set her heels back on the ground.

“Caine… he got me thinking,” Will said, looking down at her, trying not to be distracted by her revealing blouse. He rested his hands on her hips, not wanting to let go.

“You poor thing, I know how much you hate that,” she teased.

Will pinched her. She giggled and hopped back, then sat down in her chair, instantly composed.

Will sat across from her. “Seriously, we need to talk about this whole ‘you coming on an adventure’ thing.”

Bella grinned and bounced a little in her seat. “At first I was worried and apprehensive, but now I’m excited.”

“Worried is the right response. I should have been more worried than I was. This is going to be dangerous, and me being along is just going to make it more likely that things will go sideways,” Will tried to explain. “That’s why I quit. I make things more dangerous. I shouldn't be going in the first place, and I definitely shouldn’t be taking a rookie with me.”

“So you’re telling me I shouldn’t go,” Bella said. She didn’t seem mad. She was thinking.

“Yeah. I know it isn’t up to me, but if I were giving you advice from the outside, I’d say don’t do it,” Will shrugged. “I was being selfish to drag you along in the first place.”

“Your reasons for wanting me along make sense. It was me that got you into this in the first place,” Bella shook her head. “Before, every time you and Jack would leave I’d wish I could help. Now, I finally can. I appreciate the concern, but I’m going.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Will sighed. He started to stand up. “It was worth a shot. I’ll let you get back to work.”

“You paid for a reading.” She shuffled her cards.

“Well, I wanted to see if you can do a reading on yourself, you know, to see if this was going to be dangerous for you.” Will sat back down.

“Of course I can. It was the first thing I did when I got back here after you roped me into all this,” Bella smiled.

“And?” Will asked.

“It will be dangerous. I’ll have to make a difficult choice. The journey will be fruitful,” Bella listed off, miming flipping cards of the deck in her hands as she spoke. Then she fanned and fluttered the deck again.

“Well that’s vague,” Will eyed the cards fluttering through Bella’s hands like they were making fun of him. “And it isn’t actually reassuring. Just because the journey will be fruitful doesn’t mean you’ll make it home to see the end of it.”

Bella shrugged. “That’s true, but it’s also not a bad reading. It’s not telling me I shouldn’t go.”

“You just said it would be dangerous,” Will held his hands toward her plaintively.

“There’s different degrees of danger,” Bella said. “It’s hard to tell for sure how bad this one is. Doing more specific readings on yourself is hard. Usually things like that take a coven, or some other kind of outside power boost. It’s hard to be both the target of the power, and the source of it,” Bella explained.

“Can we make that happen before we leave? I’d really like some reassurance that you’re going to make it through this.” Will felt worried, but hopeful.

Bella tapped her cards, thinking. “I think so… but you’ll need to fuck me.”

Will blinked, and then laughed, “Oh, poor me. What a price to pay.”

Bella grinned, “I know. My magic demands such terrible prices.”

“So... when can we do this?” Will asked.

“How about now?” Bella stood up.

Will looked at the curtain. It was the same rich purple velvet as the tablecloth, but there were small gaps on the edges and down the middle, and it did almost nothing to mask the noise coming from the lounge and he was fairly sure anyone walking by would catch a glimpse of what was going on in the small room. “Uh…” he said.

“What, did you forget where you are? There’s going to be a live sex show on the main stage later tonight. How much do you want this reading?” Bella teased. She slowly tugged her blouse down. Her massive breasts strained against the fabric then bounced free. Will’s breeches suddenly became a bit more uncomfortable.

“I think that even if I didn’t want it, I’d find myself convinced anyway,” Will said, his eyes firmly on her glorious chest.

She laughed. Her breasts rippled. “Good answer.”

Bella stood up and stuck her head out of the curtain. She held the curtains so they covered her breasts, but clearly showed the crowd the valley between them. It never hurt to advertise. “Tonya!” she called over the noise of the crowd. “Tonya, c’mere!”

A few moments later Will heard an energetic, slightly scratchy sounding woman’s voice say  “Yeah, Bell?”

“Are you free for a bit, or are you with someone?” Bella asked. Will was suddenly very confused.

“I’m free. Just sent my last fellow to the poker tables. Haven’t picked a new victim yet,” the woman sounded amused with herself.

“Want to help me with a ritual?” Bella asked. Will adjusted his pants and waited to see where this was going.

“Hell yes!” Tonya answered gleefully. “What do you need?”

“Can you get me a jar of salt from Cerice? Then just come in here. I’ll explain then.”

Bella’s head popped back out of the curtains. She gave Will a salacious grin. “Hope you don’t mind an audience.”