I wonder if I should talk to her?
"It looks pretty busy,"she whispered, ducking her head.
The girl whispered back, "It has been. Al yesterday I kept hoping, but at least one noble came in as the last one left."
"You mean you have to wait until the shop's empty to - ?"
The brown-haired girl looked at her curiously. "Of course -
unless you're buying for your mistress or master."
"What's your name?"Bonnie whispered.
"Kelta."
"I'm Bonnie."
At this Kelta burst into silent but convulsive giggles.
Bonnie felt offended; she'd just given Kelta a sugarplum - or the price of one, and now the girl was laughing at her.
"I'm sorry,"Kelta said when her mirth had died down. "But don't you think it's funny that in the last year there are so many girls changing their names to Alianas and Mardeths, and Bonnas - some slaves are even being allowed to do it."
"But why?"Bonnie whispered with such obvious genuine bewilderment that Kelta said, "Why, to fit into the story, of course. To be named after the ones who kil ed old Bloddeuwedd while she was rampaging through the city."
"That was such a big deal?"
"You real y don't know? After she was kil ed al her money went to the fifth sector where she lived and there was enough left over to have a holiday. That's where I'm from. And I used to be so frightened when I was sent out with a message or anything after dark because she could be right above you and you'd never know, until - "Kelta had put al her money into one pocket and now she mimed claws descending on an innocent hand.
"But you real y are a Bonna,"Kelta said, with a flash of white teeth in rather dingy skin. "Or so you said."
"Yeah,"Bonnie said feeling vaguely sad. "I'm a Bonna, al right!"The next moment she cheered up. "The shop's empty!"
"It is! Oh, you're a good-luck Bonna! I've been waiting two days."
She approached the counter with a lack of fear that was very encouraging to Bonnie. Then she asked for something cal ed a blood jel y that looked to Bonnie like a smal mold of strawberry Jel -O, with something darker deep inside. Kelta smiled at Bonnie from under the curtain of her long, unbrushed hair and was gone.
The man who ran the sweetshop kept looking hopeful y at the door, clearly hoping a free person - a noble - would come in.
No one did, however, and at last he turned to Bonnie.
"And what is it you want?"he demanded.
"Just a sugarplum, please?"Bonnie tried hard to make sure her voice didn't quaver.
The man was bored. "Show me your pass,"he said irritably.
It was at that point that Bonnie suddenly knew that everything was going to go horribly wrong.
"Come on, come on, snap it up!"Stil looking at his accounting books, the man snapped his fingers.
Meanwhile Bonnie was running a hand over her sack-cloth smock, in which she knew perfectly well there was no pocket, and certainly no pass.
"But I thought I didn't need a pass, except to cross sectors,"she babbled final y.
The man now leaned over the counter. "Then show me your freedom pass,"he said, and Bonnie did the only thing she could think of. She turned and ran, but before she could reach the door she felt a sudden stinging pain in her back and then everything went blurry and she never knew when she hit the ground.
Chapter 15
Bonnie woke slowly, coming up from some dark place.
Then she wished she hadn't. She was in some out-of-doors place - only buildings blocked the horizon where the sun hung forever. Around her were a lot of other girls, al approximately her own age. That was puzzling, first of al . If you took a random sampling of females off the street there would be little girls crying for their mothers, and there would be mother-aged women taking care of them. There might be a few older women. This place looked more like -
- oh, God, it looked like one of those slave warehouse places that they had had to pass the last time they had come to the Dark Dimension. The ones that Elena had ordered them not to look at or listen to. But now Bonnie felt sure she was inside one herself, and there was no way not to look at the Stillfaces, at the terrified eyes, at the quivering mouths around her.
She wanted to speak, to find the way - there would have to be a way, Elena would insist - to get out. But first she gathered al the Power at her command, wrapped it into a cry, and soundlessly screamed Damon! Damon! Help! I really need you!
Al she heard in return was silence.
Damon! It's Bonnie! I'm at a slave warehouse! Help!
Suddenly she had a hunch, and lowered her psychic barriers.
She was instantly crushed. Even here, at the edge of the city, the air was choked ful of long messages and short: cries of impatience, or camaraderie, of greeting, of solicitation.
Longer, less impatient conversations about things, instructions, teasings, stories. She couldn't keep up with it. It turned into a menacing wave of psychic sound that was curled like a wave about to break over her head, to crush her into a mil ion pieces.
And then, all of a sudden, the telepathic melee vanished.
Bonnie was able to focus her eyes on a blond girl, a little older than her and about four inches taller.
"I said, are you okay?"the girl was repeating - obviously she'd been saying it for a while.
"Yes,"Bonnie said automatically. No! Bonnie thought.
"You might want to get ready to move. They've sounded the first dinnertime whistle, but you looked so out of it, I waited for the second one."
What am I supposed to say? Thank you seemed safest.
"Thanks,"Bonnie said. Then her mouth said all on its own,