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suspicious to have them dressed so perfectly the same. And in a sense of just retribution, Tia yanked off his shirt, took off his pants, and left him nothing but his underwear to protect him from the elements. She put all those things onto herself, covering the imaginary clothes that were but images of magic.

Now hauling him back out into the street, Tia dragged his body, dumping him at the foot of a public building. Arrest for indecent exposure was still an arrest, and that made her smile as she wiped her meaty, glove-covered hands and tromped back down the street.

 

Chapter Seven: The Whore

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tia as a local murderer of Harmas tromped more easily through the streets. His knowledge of the area made it easier to find her way back to where foreign visitors would go. The creep had not known about the visiting fortuneteller, but he did know where to get information.

He had a favorite whore that he visited but paid very badly. She was also a thief with no scruples and was not a person he entirely trusted. However, the whore’s circle of influence was larger than his. She knew the best spots of town for gossip that might turn a profit.

Rapping her knuckles on the doorjamb, Tia-the-rapist-murderer leaned in and called out, “Lara! Sweet buns! Hefty knockers! Come out babe!”

A tall leggy woman with brown stained teeth staggered drunkenly to the door. “You ain’t banging me today, Albid. I got an appointment with the patriarch of the Lower House this evening, and you leave me all bruised. Come back tomorrow, and maybe I’ll consider a quickie for twenty silver.”

Albid never paid her that much. The slimy rapist usually connived his way into her bed, or just took what he wanted and tossed her a five when he was done. The only reason she put up with it was that he could kill her, and would if he had reason to.

“As much as I’d like to roll in the bed with you right now, I don’t have the time. I’m looking into new areas. I heard there’s a traveling fortuneteller about that gives innocent little women advice about their romantic future. I figure there is money to be made in this area,” Tia-as-Albid said.

Lara lifted her painted eyebrows at him. Her robe slipped open some, exposing a bare shoulder. The Albid in Tia wanted to reach in and tear open the woman’s bodice right then. Tia restrained herself, disgusted by the impulse.

Lara said, “There are fortunetellers all over the Midway. But you seem to be seeking one in particular. What? The thrill not good enough for you here? If you head uphill, you are asking for trouble. They’ll catch you this time.”

Her blouse opened more when she turned, exposing extreme cleavage. Albid’s libido was raging now. His desires shouted that Tia should push his way in, lock the door and pounce on Lara with heat. Tia glanced out and pulled back, thinking it might be best to travel up the Midway to search for the fortuneteller without help.

“My, my, Albid, you’ve changed.”

Tia turned back her head and stared at Lara. The woman was folding her arms across her barely covered chest smirking. Her eyes narrowed, peering at Tia-who-was-Albid more carefully. “Who are you really? You aren’t Albid. He’d a had me on the bed and screaming by now.”

Tia stepped in and closed the door behind her. She drew out Albid’s dagger. “What are you talking about, woman? I have no time for a lay.”

Lara snorted, taking off her robe right in front of this ‘Albid’. “Albid always has time. That’s what he lives for—a quick one and a power trip. If you don’t want any, then you aren’t Albid.”

Tia averted her eyes, grabbing the woman’s robe from off the floor and shoving it back at her. “Get dressed, you twit! I don’t want any! Ok!”

But the hand that shoved the robe to the woman was Tia’s own fist. She blinked at it. The transformation was so much easier now. And though the three hours were not up, her desire to stay a sadistic rapist was entirely gone.

The Harmas whore stared at her, taking back the robe. “You…you are just a slave! How did you do that?”

Tia turned back her gaze, glancing once to make sure she was still wearing the clothes she had stolen from Albid. They were on her funny, covering her cloak and her ripped up prison uniform in a very awkward and stuffed way. She took off his shirt, tossing it to the chair and then attempted to take off his pants.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said to Lara. “I need you to tell me if you have heard of that traveling fortuneteller the women of Minor Gull have been talking about.”

The woman gasped, staring as Tia tore off the remains of her shredded prison suit. The man had entirely removed the front. The sleeves still were on her arms attached to the back, and there was a very dangerous tear just starting at the top of her waistband. She had only just got away.

“Where is Albid? Is he dead?” Lara asked in a whisper.

Tia pulled off the prison uniform then put back on the man’s clothes. “He’s alive. I didn’t kill him if that’s what you are asking, though I could have.”

She unfastened the cloak and set it aside so she could get his shirt over her head.

Lara shook her head and grabbed Tia’s arm. “You can’t wear those clothes on the streets. If Albid is not dead, then he will come looking for them and you. Besides, they’re men’s clothes, and you are a woman.”

Tia blinked at her. Lara dragged her over to her closet, drawing out several fancy but sleazy looking outfits, tossing them onto the bed. She spun around, picking up a shimmering blue one. “Put this on. They’ll let you walk the streets if you wear this.”

Taking it from her, Tia glanced at the skirt that was not that unlike the women’s from Minor Gull. “But, I’m not from the southern continent and this—”

Lara smirked. “Clothes are clothes. Besides, if you wear it, people will only think you are a female entertainer gone looking for business.”

“Female entertainer?” Tia murmured, recalling from Albid’s memory that was the official name for whores around Harmas. “But doesn’t that mean some men will try and solicit my business while out on the streets? What if I meet another man like that creep, Albid?”

Lara’s eyes softened into a pained smile. “You could take the work, or you could tell them you have a prior engagement. I usually tell men-folk I am doing the patriarch of the Lower House when I want a rest. The man has a pretty sleazy reputation, and I did service him once.”

Tia’s face contorted in disgust.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Lara glared. “You don’t know what it is like living on the streets for your bread. I have to make a living somehow.”

“I’ve lived on the streets once,” Tia replied, pulling off the shirt again and prying open the snaps to the blue dress Lara had given her. “But in Calcumum the law forbids prostitution. I see now that I should be glad for that.”

Lara blinked her eyes and stared harder at Tia. She stepped back and pointed. “I…I’ve seen you! Your face! I saw it! I know you now! You’re that escaped demon that worked for the Underlord. They’re paying over fifty thousand gold pieces for your head!”

Tia yanked on the bodice, stuffing her arms in the sleeves. It was a little snug in the arms. Lara was spidery thin in her arms and legs, rounded in all the other places. There Tia had muscle and flesh. The clothes pinched.

“I heard you ate a man.” Lara pulled back to the dresser.

“Bit his throat,” Tia briskly answered, fitting the front over her chest. It fit all right.

“But you killed him.” Lara stared at her.

Tia closed her eyes, adjusting where the skirt fell. Her hips fit just barely. The slit was just below that, exposing all her thigh. “It was self defense. He was beating on me.”

Snapping up her top, Tia peered at the gaping hole that exposed her cleavage to the world. She grimaced. No one had ever made her wear what she had not wanted. The Underlord allowed her to dress in whatever clothes she willed, which usually was nothing more than a clean tunic and skirt. Up until then, she had never considered what effect dressing so loosely would have on others around her. Now that Albid’s thoughts had passed through her mind, she knew exactly what things men might think seeing her standing there. She shuddered.

Lara took one step toward her. “Did you do that to Albid?”

Tia turned and blinked at her. “No. No I, uh….” She looked at the floor and shrugged. “I kicked him and then dropped him off at a public place. He should be picked up soon.”

“You just kicked him? What kind of kick? You came here as him, wearing his clothes!” Lara’s face was white.

Tia slapped a hand on Lara’s mouth. “Please. I don’t need people coming here.”

She felt Lara’s worries and thoughts rush into her. Tia quickly pulled back her hand. Lara’s lips were white. Her cheeks had gone ashen.

“If you let me go, I will never say a word about you being here,” Lara said with barely a breath.

Sadness filled Tia. She bowed her head. “I had no intention of harming you. Just tell me where this fortuneteller is, and I will be on my way.”

Lara blinked her black brushed lashes, pursing her red painted lips, regaining her blush. “I see. Well then, um…. You are seeking Tior Dalos, the seer from the Eastern Ocean. He charges fifteen in silver before he even lets you in to see him. He lives in the Midway at the Hotel Harda. I think he does his business in a shop on Culver’s Street. Do you need a map, or do you know the way?”

It was the most help anyone had given Tia since she had left the Underlord’s home. Tia stared, swallowed and drew in a breath. “No, I know the way. Thank you.”

Lara jumped up and handed her a large sequin bag. It matched the dress she had given Tia. “Take this.”

She then ran over and grabbed a moneybag, digging out fifteen silver pieces. Tia watched her snatch a long fur stole and pick up a pair of shoes. She placed the money and Tia’s cloak into the bag, cramming the shoes in Tia’s hands. They were tall blue heels, too big for Tia’s feet.

“You can stuff the toe so they fit,” Lara said. She ran into the back room, tossing aside the silky curtain. When she reemerged, she was carrying a wrapped package of stuffed bread and an apple. “You may get hungry before you get there.”

Tia sat down, shrugged once, and pulled on the shoes. Lara handed her several handkerchiefs to stick into the empty spaces. Tia’s foot was just an inch shorter. She buckled on the thin spaghetti straps, standing carefully to her feet. Her balance teetered, but she managed to stay up. These shoes stood higher on spikes than any pair she had ever worn.

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