Queen of wands

CHAPTER FOUR

“Have you had any sleep at all?” Duncan asked as Doris sat down at his table in the restaurant.

“Nope,” Doris replied, grinning. “I’ve been having too much fun.”

“Is that a faint sheen of glow about you I detect?”

“If you mean am I pregnant, no!” Doris replied, hotly.

“Horses sweat, men perspire, and women glow,” Duncan said. “You appear to glow. Your hair is wet.”

“I was dancing,” Doris said, shrugging.

“This early?” Duncan replied, chuckling. “Shouldn’t you at least wait until the sun is over the yardarm?” He paused and looked at her. “You don’t mean you were dancing all night?”

“Until about an hour ago. The last drummer gave up, the loser.”

“Good God, woman!” Duncan said. “Pace yourself. No sleep, and dancing all night? Were your shoes on fire? What happened to the little wallflower?”

“I am the little wallflower,” Doris said, shrugging. “Until I can put on a mask. Then I get to be the mask.”

“Well, seriously, you need some rest,” Duncan said. “Food, at least. My treat.”

“I accept,” Doris said. “I feel sort of bad about the fact that I’m living on charity. But I sort of got over it, partially, last night. Guys kept giving me bottles of water.”

“I hope you only took those that were sealed,” Duncan said, signaling for a waiter.

“I was careful,” Doris said. “It sort of bothered me at first. But they seemed to like it and they really seemed to like my dancing. One of the drummers asked if I was going to be there tonight. I said probably. I know I have to sleep sometime, and I’m tired, but not the kind of tired where you can go to sleep. You know?”

“Yes,” Duncan said, nodding. “But you have to rest sometime. And, frankly, you could probably use a shower after dancing all night.”

“Do I smell?” Doris asked, looking panicked.

“No,” Duncan said, grinning. “But you still could probably use a shower. Am I right?”

“Yes,” Doris said.

“I’m not using my room for the next couple of hours,” he said, handing her a key. “Feel free to avail yourself of it. Get some sleep if you can, wash up if nothing else. Remember the rules of the con. Drink, Eat, Sleep, Game. Or costume, in your case. What are your plans for today?”

“More costuming panels,” Doris said. “Then I’m going to see if I can figure out how to make a harem-girl costume for tonight. I don’t think I can. There’s too much involved. And I need to figure out what costume I’m going to do for the contest.”

“If you’d like another suggestion…?” Duncan asked.

“Sure,” Doris replied. “You’ve been on the money so far.”

“Don’t spend all your time in costuming. There are a thousand things to do at this con. No person is all one thing. Or if they are, they’re called obsessives. You might try looking in on some other panels. I’m going to a demonstration by a friend of mine at one, over in the Marriott. You might want to look that up.”

“Damn, you’re up early.”

Doris looked up, then up again, at a tall, thin man with a straggly beard and long, frizzy hair.

“Ah,” Duncan said, grinning. “It’s Kelly. Kelly Lockhart, Doris Grisham. Doris, Kelly. Join us for breakfast?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Kelly said, grabbing a chair. “It’s not often that I get to eat breakfast with a beautiful lady.”

“I won’t tell Star you said that,” Duncan said, chuckling.

“Young lady.”

“Or that.”

“Redhead.”

“There you go. Foot nicely extracted. Doris, Kelly is a feature of Dragon*Con I don’t think you’ve yet had the dubious pleasure of experiencing.”

“Oh?” Doris asked, puzzled.

“I’m the court jester,” Kelly said. “Which means that since nobody takes me seriously I can get away with things that would otherwise be outrageous.”

“And people just say ‘Oh, it’s Kelly’ and shrug.”

“There you go.”

“Such as the fu…screw-up fairy?”

“Don’t remind me,” Kelly said, wincing. “Okay, there are some lines that shouldn’t be crossed.”

“The problem is not crossing a line,” Duncan said. “It’s jumping across it butt naked. Or, perhaps, in the screw-up fairy costume.”

“You have all these in-jokes,” Doris said.

“Danger of an inbred community,” Duncan said, smiling. “The fu…screw-up fairy…”

“Tech-ops says that whenever something goes wrong, it’s the…screw-up fairy,” Kelly said, by way of explanation. “So one year I decided to come as the screw-up fairy.”

“Imagine yon large-hirsute, I might add-male in a size triple-XL Tinkerbell costume.”

“Technically it was Texas small.”

“Oh,” Doris said, grimacing. “Brain floss!”

“Yes, yes,” Duncan said, grinning. “We all wanted economy-size brain floss.”

“With condoms hanging from the belt,” Kelly pointed out. “Doesn’t make any sense, otherwise. I mean, it’d just be a guy cross-dressing if I didn’t do that.”

“And there is far too much of that at Dragon*Con, anyway,” Duncan said.

“I saw a great big fat bearded guy in a Sailor Moon outfit last night,” Doris said, shuddering.

“Sailor Moon cosplay should be outlawed,” Folsom said, nodding. “Seriously. There ought to be laws with stiff penalties. Hanging on first offense, with successively higher penalties.” Duncan frowned as his breakfast was served, and pulled out his cell phone to check the time. “This is fun, but I think it’s throwing my schedule off. I’m not sure I’ll be able to make Ed’s demo. Kelly, Doris is going to avail herself of my shower. After that, do you think you could be a friend and get her over to Ed’s demonstration?”

“Sure,” Kelly said. “I don’t have any plans.”

“I’m going to wolf this down and then scoot,” Folsom said. “Doris, don’t let this trickster lead you astray. He’s renowned for it. Kelly, actually get her to the demo, okay?”

“You just say that because you love me,” Kelly said, grinning.

“Or something like that,” Folsom replied.

“Eh, this is too effing weird,” Hjalmar said, looking at the crowds below. “If I’m getting this right, this is the next day, in the morning. And we were away for, what, two hours?”

“We were here for one day in this reality and out-of-body for two,” Sharice said, biting her lip. “There’s a rule going on here that I can’t define. Time is way skewed. I came right back because I was afraid we were going to miss the entire con if we stayed away. Instead, we’re right back where we should be starting again.”

“Rules of game?” Drakon said. “We rest and we restart at the proper time?”

“But who is running the game?” Sharice said. “And what are the other rules? Most especially, who is running the game? Because if it’s certain entities, then it’s going to be rigged.”

“Rigged or not, it’s the only game in town,” Hjalmar said as he threw on his mail. “What’s the plan? I take it I’m getting sentry again.”

“Where have we missed?” Sharice asked.

“It’s a huge con,” Drakon said. “We haven’t really hit the gaming areas. I covered the lower levels of the Hyatt yesterday. Ran into a fascinating guy in the anime room. He knew, like, every anime ever created and every martial arts movie ever. Even met Bruce Lee a couple of times.”

“Costuming,” Hjalmar said, waving at his armor. “There’s a whole huge track on that over at the Hilton. And we didn’t really hit the Hilton much at all.”

“Drakon, you take gaming,” Sharice said. “I’ll take costuming. Link up with Hjalmar at two. I’ll spell Hjalmar so he can get some food and rest. Then we roam again.”

“Works,” Drakon said, shaking his head. “Gaming. Why’d it have to be gaming?”

“Would you rather sit through lectures on period fabric making?” Sharice asked.

“Come to think of it, I really want to check out the gaming room…”

“You look refreshed,” Kelly said as Doris exited the elevator.

“I feel refreshed,” Doris said, heading to the lobby.

“Let’s take the tubeway,” Kelly said, gesturing in the opposite direction. “This time of day it’s not too crowded, and it’s closer.”

“I haven’t been this way before,” Doris said as they headed into the skyway. “I didn’t even know this was here.”

“There are a half-dozen ways to get back and forth,” Kelly said. “Trust me, I know them all. And you can watch the crazies from up here,” he added, gesturing down to the street. “Like the guy in armor who looks as if he’s a sentry.”

Doris stopped and considered the guy in period Norse costume.

“He looks familiar,” she said.

“That’s common,” Kelly replied, taking her arm. “And we’re walking…”

“Lots of people in costume already,” Doris said.

“This is when the con really gets going,” Kelly said as they proceeded on their way. “Most of the day registration is on Saturday. Which is why the day-reg line is so long. Tomorrow will be busy, too, what with the concerts and the Dawn contest.”

“I’m going to do that,” Doris said, shyly.

“Dawn?” Kelly said, surprised. “Well, you’re a natural for looks, but…What’s your costume?”

“I haven’t really decided yet,” Doris said. “It’s going to be limited.”

“Hmmm…” Kelly said, frowning. “Dawn’s not something to just jump into. I mean, not if you’re serious. It’s become almost a masquerade lately. People work all year on a costume for it. Just throwing something together? Good luck. And why Dawn?”

“I’m trying to find out who I really am,” Doris said. “Dawn is about as far from who I am now as I can imagine.”

“Then maybe it’s not who you really are,” Kelly said. “Maybe something like gaming is more your style. All that takes is brains and skill. You’ve clearly got the brains; all you need is the skill. And you can pick that up fast. If you just want to win something to prove something to yourself, well, one of the gaming contests is more likely.”

“Hmmm…” Doris said, doubtfully.

“Or, well, you’ve been doing costuming, right? Maybe something like the Iron Costumer contest. I wouldn’t suggest masquerade, that’s also something you work all year on. But there are more places to prove yourself, to find yourself, at Dragon*Con than Dawn. Just a thought.”

“I’ll think on it,” Doris said as they exited into the food court. “Oh, I have been this way. I found the food court my first day. But I’ve mostly been eating in the con suite.”

“Shane appreciates that, I’m sure,” Kelly said. “He goes to a lot of trouble to come up with solid meals even though his budget is really small for all the people he has to feed. And he never has enough staff. Most people aren’t willing to sell their souls to be con-suite zombies. But to get to the Marriott we go this way.”

“I offered to help out,” Doris said. “In the con suite. But he said I had to have my brains removed.”

“It’s not a con rule, it’s his,” Kelly said. “All con-suite staff must be zombies. I think it’s an African hospitality thing.”

Doris giggled at that and then looked around in surprise as they entered the Marriott. “I never would have found this way if you hadn’t shown it to me.”

“There are signs, but they’re more harm than help,” Kelly said. “There are a thousand paths around Dragon*Con. I like to try them all.”

“Duncan said you can go anywhere.”

“Dragon*Con is really about fifteen cons rolled into one,” Kelly said. “Media con, derivative con, anime con, lit con, fetish con. And each of those cons has dozens of little cliques. I try to fit in with them all.”

“I imagine you mediate a lot,” Doris said.

“Heh,” Kelly replied. “I’ll fix things from time to time. ‘Mediate’ would be a stretch. Most people would say the opposite.”

“So are you staff?” Doris asked as they headed down the escalator. She didn’t notice in the crowds the small woman in robes exiting the back of the hotel.

“I used to be a director,” Kelly said. “These days I just run the battlebot tournament. And occasionally MC. And whatever else strikes my fancy. And in here,” he continued, leading her into a ballroom, “we have Edmund’s demonstration about to start. I’d better introduce you quickly.”

He led her to the front of the crowded room where an older man, balding and blocky, was laying out a collection of edged weapons. They ranged from small punch daggers up to halberds with just about every major type in between. A stocky, dark-haired woman with a friendly face was helping him with the layout. She glanced over her shoulder and grinned.

“Edmund, it’s Kelly.”

“Hello, Kelly,” Edmund said, neutrally. “To what do we owe the honor?”

“I come bearing gifts,” Kelly said.

“I’ll check my wallet,” Edmund replied.

“Seriously. Duncan asked me to lead this lovely stray over and introduce her. Doris Grisham, Fig and Edmund Wodinaz. Ed and Fig, Doris. My work here is done.” With that, he wandered off.

“Hey, Doris,” Fig said, shaking her hand. “Folsom mentioned you. Want to help out?”

“Love to,” Doris said.

“Well, grab some blades and start putting them up.”

Hjalmar watched the old woman coming across the road and sighed. She was heavyset, pear-shaped, and not short. But the reason for the two canes was clearly some sort of serious movement disability, not to mention age. She’d started at the front of the pack crossing the road, and by the time she was halfway across, the policeman stopping traffic was watching her with a baleful eye, as she was the only one still in the road.

She finally made it to the steep, long stairs, took a look up from her hunched position, sighed, took both canes in one hand and grabbed the railing, preparing to hoist herself up.

Hjalmar just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Ma’am,” he said, walking over. “If you don’t mind, I can carry you up. If you can take a fireman’s carry.”

“I accept,” the woman said after a moment’s pause. “I’d take the ‘handicapped’ entrance but it’s nearly as bad. And longer.”

“This won’t take a second,” Hjalmar said, bending down and getting the woman across his shoulders. She was much heavier than she looked, and she didn’t look light.

He carried her up the stairs and then set her down, carefully. He managed not to groan as the enormous weight came off.

“Got your feet?” he asked.

“Got it,” the woman said. “Thank you. May Frey bless you.”

“You’re Asatru?” Hjalmar said, surprised.

“No,” the woman said, laughing. “ You are, silly. I’m of a much older religion than those upstarts.”

Hjalmar nodded to her in a puzzled fashion and went back down the stairs to take up his sentry post.

“Nice of you,” the security guy said. It was the same guy who had handed them their tickets the first day.

“I just couldn’t stand the suspense of not knowing if she’d make it or not,” Hjalmar said, half ashamedly. He preferred a tough-guy image, frankly. “And I really wanted the image of her rolling back down out of my head.”

“Al Mater is old, but she’s sturdy,” the security guy said, shrugging. “She’s been making the con since it’s been around and will probably be making it when everyone else has quit.”

“Al Mater?” Hjalmar said, puzzled.

“Con name,” the security guy said, shrugging. “I don’t know her true name. Don’t know anyone who does. Like I said, she’s been around for a looong time. Got a question for you.”

“Shoot,” Hjalmar said, spotting and dismissing another redhead.

“You were here pretty much all day yesterday.”

“Yep.”

“And you look to be settling in today. Nice threads, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

“So what’s up?”

“Looking for a friend,” Hjalmar said. “We’re worried she’s in trouble. She doesn’t have a cell. We figure everybody has to come by here sometime. The other two are cruising the con. I stand here and look for redheads.”

“More or less what I figured,” the guy said, extending a hand. “Ryan, by the way.”

“Hjalmar.”

“Here’s the thing. Since you’re going to be standing here anyway, why not join security?”

“Excuse me?” Hjalmar said, surprised.

“You’re going to be here anyway. If you’re here as security, we can free up one body. All you’ve got to do, in addition to looking for your friend, is check to make sure everyone has a badge. You’d be surprised what kind of people try to sneak into the con without paying. They’ll pay you back for your membership, and instead of your friends having to bring you drinks, we get powerups delivered.”

“Powerups?” Hjalmar said, tilting his head.

“Sandwich, PowerAde bottle, vitamins and a PowerBar,” Ryan said. “All you gotta do is go up to Room two-twenty-two-that’s con-ops and security-explain the situation, and you’re in. If they’ve got questions, tell ’em to call me.”

“Hmmm…” Hjalmar said. “I may have to take off in a hurry.”

“Go to room two-twenty-two.”

“I’ll wait ’til I get relieved then go,” Hjalmar said. “We’re serious about finding this friend of ours. Two-twenty-two.”

“Two-twenty-two.”

Edmund’s demonstration was a solid hour. The first thirty minutes covered, in brief, each of the weapons and their common forms of employment. Then fifteen minutes were a demonstration of axe, war hammer and long sword against various forms of armor. Pig shoulders, mail, and plate were expertly chopped and diced. He may have used a cane, normally, but put a sword in his hand and he came alive. The last fifteen were questions and answers.

Doris’s part was to be the pretty assistant. She was initially surprised that when Edmund began discussing a particular weapon she could pick it out immediately. But just as Edmund seemed to change with a sword in his hand, so did she. It was more than “the pointy end goes at the bad guy.” The feel of a sword awakened something in her that she hadn’t known was there.

When the demonstration was finished, she and Fig started collecting up the weapons while Edmund answered still more questions. She lifted one of the swords and sighted along the blade. It wasn’t a period weapon; Edmund referred to it as a “fantasy sword” based on a falchion, but it was the most perfect weapon she could imagine. At least for cutting flesh. Long and curved with the blade thickened towards the end, the balance was beautiful. She waved it slightly then flipped it in her hand, a motion that Edmund had demonstrated, but also demonstrated was difficult for a beginner.

“You look as if you were made for that sword,” Fig said, smiling.

“It’s beautiful,” Doris exclaimed. “I don’t care if he says it’s a fantasy sword. If there wasn’t someone, somewhere, who used one like this in battle, there should have been.”

“You seem familiar with the pieces,” Fig said.

“I guess,” Doris said. “I certainly like them.”

“Could you give us a hand getting these up to the room?” Fig asked.

“Absolutely.”

The collection was a huge mass, but between the three of them and a baggage cart, they managed to get them all up to a room in the Marriott in one load.

“Thank God that’s over,” Edmund said, settling into a chair.

“Are you okay?” Fig asked.

“Just short of breath,” Edmund said. “I’m getting old, honey.”

“You’re never going to get old,” Fig said. “You just get better.”

“I get better with young lovelies around, that’s for sure,” Edmund said, winking at Doris. “Thank you for helping out. It was more help than you realize. I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Doris said, still holding the falchion. She flipped it again and shook her head. “Someday I’ll be able to afford a sword like this.”

“Well, you can borrow it if you need to,” Fig said. “But for the time being, try this.”

She pulled out what was almost the sketch of the same sword made from sections of wood bound together at both ends but slightly separated in the middle.

“Those are my new training swords,” Edmund said. “They have the same heft and balance as a live blade, but you don’t have to worry about leaving your arm lying on the ground.”

“Why not rattan?” Doris asked, doing a sweep. He was right, it was the identical balance.

“Hand it over,” Edmund said. When he had it in his hand he popped her, hard, on the butt. “That’s why.”

“That barely hurt,” Doris said, taking the sword back. Not nearly as much as a hickory switch, she thought.

“Rattan would have left a bruise,” Fig said. “With these, all you need for live fighting is a face mask and helmet. They’re even better than wrapped rattan or PVC. You can hit somebody on an unprotected joint and it won’t cause any damage.”

“Since you like the falchion so much, take that one with you,” Edmund said. “I have others. There’s a scabbard.”

“Thank you,” Doris said as Fig loaded her with a scabbard and baldric. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“I’m sure you will find a way to use it well,” Fig said.

Barbara felt bad that she hadn’t been able to stop by the safe house before. But she’d been busy. Now she laid a hand on her friend’s shoulder.

“Come on, Janea,” she said, drawing on the power of God and channeling it to her friend. The fact that an Asatru worshipper of a fertility goddess was one of God’s children in His eyes was proven simply because she could send her friend power. “I need some backup. This FBI guy is getting freaked by invisible demons. I need somebody to take his mind off of them. You’d be perfect.”

There was not a flicker on the monitors, but Barbara hoped the power would help out.

When Hjalmar got back from his break, Sharice raised an eyebrow at his new badge and lanyard.

“Security?” she said.

“I’m here, anyway,” Hjalmar said. “All I have to do is check badges.”

“Hjalmar,” Sharice said, pulling him to the side. “Try to remember this is the astral plane.”

“I do,” Hjalmar said.

“You’re joining security for a sector of the astral plane,” Sharice said. “I know the whole ‘maintaining’ thing is ritual for you, but…this could be a serious complication.”

“I told them what’s going on, that we’re looking for a friend. And that I have to leave by midnight, and that I may have to leave in a hurry. They didn’t have any problems with it.”

“Try your silver cord,” Sharice said.

Hjalmar closed his eyes, then yawned.

“Thanks,” he said. “Now I’m tired. It’ll be fine. And if one of you guys can cover for me here from time to time, I’ve got access to all sorts of areas now that we didn’t have before. I doubt Janea is in any of them, but if we get a sniff I can look.”

“Okay,” Sharice said, doubtfully. “I’m going to go check out the Hyatt. Good luck. Hopefully, wherever Janea is, she’s not getting into too much trouble.”

“Bran, I need to apologize,” Doris said.

“I can’t imagine what for,” the director said as people shuffled out of the panel.

“I need to pay you back for the materials I used,” Doris said. “I feel like such a fool. I knew there was no way I was coming to a con with no money.”

“And you remembered…” Bran said, smiling.

“I put it in my backpack,” Doris said, ducking her head. “I had plenty of money with me. What a ditz!”

“You didn’t use hardly anything in materials,” Bran said. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. Are you going to costume tonight?”

“Yes,” Doris said. “I knew what I wanted to do but I just couldn’t figure out how to make it. Not in time, and the materials would have been expensive. I’m going to do the belly-dancer thing.”

“Good for you,” Bran said. “That’s a nice step up.”

“And I get to wear a veil,” Doris said. “Now, where do I look?”

“Dealers Room or the Exhibitors Hall,” Bran said. “Try stall 938. Heki does great costumes. Have fun.”

The Dealers Room was downstairs from the panel rooms, but the Exhibitors Halls were on the same level. She headed that way and was somehow unsurprised to run into Kelly.

“Hey, Kelly,” Doris said. “I’m going shopping for harem-girl outfits. I’ll probably have to try on several. Want to come along?”

“Be still my beating heart,” Kelly said, grabbing at his chest. “I thought you didn’t have any money?”

“I found some in my backpack,” Doris said, shrugging. “I guess I forgot I put it in there. Anyway, time to get busy on a costume for tonight.”

“Lead the way, fair maiden,” Kelly said. “Fortunately, my wife is a director and busy in the Hyatt, two hotels away. And, of course, nobody ever gossips at Dragon*Con. I should be safe.”

“I can’t wear this in public!” Doris said, holding up the harem-girl pants. They were, essentially, transparent.

“Well, maybe not with a thong,” Kelly said. “Unless you’re willing to really let it all hang out.”

“I don’t w…I don’t ha…” Doris stammered. “I can’t wear this in public! I thought it would have more coverage than this!”

“You’re thinking I Dream of Jeannie.” Heki was a short woman with a lined face and black hair shot with white. “That would look fabulous on you, dear.”

“Kelly, I’m sorry I dragged you along,” Doris said, shaking her head. “But I can’t try this on. Not and let anyone see it.”

“If you don’t let anyone see it, you’re not going to wear it tonight,” Kelly said. “It’s not that bad.”

“I dunno…” Doris said.

“If you really want, I’ll shut my eyes,” Kelly said. “And there’s always gaming. You’re dressed for that. If baggy shirts and jeans are what you want to dress like, you don’t have to wear a harem-girl outfit. Don’t let people pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do, being somebody you don’t feel comfortable being.”

“That’s a good point,” Doris said, frowning.

“You want to think about it?” Kelly asked. “I know where there’s a Magic tournament.”

“No,” Doris said, her face hardening. “I’m going to do it.”

“Up to you,” Kelly said, indifferently.

A few minutes later, Doris came out of the dressing room. She’d had to ask Heki to help her out with a few of the fittings, and there’d been a certain amount of giggling and bell ringing from the dressing stall.

“What do you think?” Doris asked, uncertainly.

“I take it back,” Kelly squeaked.

“Take what back?” Doris asked, worriedly.

“I take back what I said,” Kelly squeaked, then cleared his throat. “You should wear that all the time. I mean, All. The. Time.”

“Kelly, my eyes are up here,” Doris said after an uncomfortable delay.

“I’ve made my decision.”

The outfit was complete, from slippers to pink gauze pantaloons to mildly opaque red vest with gauze sleeves and silver bells to headdress with more bells. And included a totally opaque silk veil.

“I can’t do this.”

“You look great.”

“Then quit undressing me with your eyes!”

“I don’t have to undress you with my eyes, Doris.”

A crowd had gathered by the simple expedient of the first guy who glanced to the side and stopped, stunned. He, in turn, was bumped by another guy who looked the same way. At this point there were at least a dozen males all gazing at Doris, slack-mouthed. And about half as many female companions glaring at her.

“That’s it,” Doris said. “Not gonna do it.”

“Doris,” Kelly said. “Seriously. You should. You look like a million dollars, and with the veil, nobody will know it’s you.”

“Everybody’s staring at me!” Doris whispered.

“Honey,” Heki said, sighing, “that’s the point.”

“Doris, up to you,” Kelly said. “Gaming’s still an option. But I’ve never seen anyone who looks as good as you in one of those. And the veil is totally opaque.” He paused for a moment then shrugged. “Of course, it’s the only part that is.”

“Not helping.”

“Up to you.”

Doris thought about it for a moment, trying to ignore the stares, then shrugged.

“How much?”

“I need better underwear,” she said as they left the Dealers Room. The entire harem-girl costume fit in a very small bag, which was all that anyone needed to say about it.

“With that I will agree,” Kelly said. “But it really is a stunning outfit.”

“I could tell by the look of dead fish on all the guys’ faces,” Doris said, chuckling.

“Deer in headlights, surely.”

“Nope, dead fish. Round, unblinking, dead eyes. And I don’t think they sell underwear in the Dealers Room.”

“There’s a mall across the street.”

“Let’s go shopping.”

Doris waited in the shadow of one of the potted plants, hoping for a friendly face. She’d made one more trip to Heki’s shop and picked up a long, full-coverage, dark-blue hooded cloak. Which was the only reason she’d been able to step out of Folsom’s room after changing.

Parked where she was, she should be able to see anyone going into the Hyatt. But she was also virtually invisible. What with the books about a certain magic school, hooded cloaks were everywhere.

She’d settle for Mandy or Kelly. Even Traxa. Anybody she knew. Fortunately, she spotted Daphne.

“Pssst,” she whispered over the din of the smoking area. “Daphne. Daphne!”

“Yes?” Daphne said to the hooded figure.

“It’s Doris,” Doris stage-whispered.

“Doris, why are you hiding in the shadows in a hooded cloak?” Daphne asked, grinning. “Shall we promenade?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Come ’ere.”

When Daphne came over, Doris maneuvered herself so her back was to the crowd, and opened up the cloak.

“Oh my God!” Daphne said, covering her mouth and trying desperately not to giggle. “Oh my God, Doris! That is shameless!”

“But I’m not,” Doris said, pulling the cloak back around her. Tight. “This was a bad idea. I blame Kelly. I don’t think I can do this! I’ll go change into…”

“Baggy jeans and T-shirt?” Daphne said. “If you want. Where’d you get it?”

“In the Dealers Room. I found some money in my backpack.”

“Well, you’ve spent the money on it and it looks absolutely stunning,” Daphne said, frowning. “ I could never wear it. But you wear it very well.”

“I’m not sure I can wear it in public, though.”

“You like to dance, right?” Daphne asked.

“Yeah. That’s why I got it.”

“Could you wear it if you were dancing?”

“Maybe.”

“Be right back.”

“Okay, I’ve fixed it with security,” Daphne said, coming back and taking Doris’s elbow. “Keep the cloak on and come with me.”

“Security?” Doris asked.

“They don’t like people working for a large crowd,” Daphne said, leading her into the interior on the same level as the smoking plaza.

“Aren’t we supposed to go…?” Doris said, sticking a hand out to gesture up to the lobby. The lower level was already fairly crowded with costumers and picture-takers.

“No pictures up there and definitely no sticking in one place,” Daphne said, leading her to the back of the large room. At the back was a young man in Middle-Eastern, dress sitting on the floor surrounded by drums. Doris vaguely recognized him as one of the drummers from the previous night.

“You sure we’re not going to get in trouble?” the kid said.

“I told you, I know Mike,” Daphne said. “No more than thirty, forty-five minutes, and if it gets too crowded we’ll have to shut down.”

“What are we doing?” Doris asked.

“ You are dancing,” Daphne replied. “Wait until the drums start to take off your cloak. Right.” She cleared her throat and raised her voice. “Ladies and gentlemen, come one, come all to the most amazing demonstration of dance you have ever seen in your life! She will amaze and astound you with her virtuosity and beauty! Gold is preferable,” she added, sweeping off her hat and holding it out. “Silver is acceptable! Is that a copper piece I see there, young man! No copper for her! This is: the amazing Doris!”

The drums started up and Doris took a deep, cleansing breath, then swept off the cloak. For a moment she thought her ears were going to pop from the inhalations, then the flashes started going off. She ignored those, and the wolf whistles, and started dancing.

“I think there’s, like, fifty bucks in this hat,” Daphne said when security had broken up the crowd. It was a necessity, they were getting twenty deep.

“There was just something…right about getting paid to dance,” Doris said. “I never thought I’d say those words, though.”

“There’s even a gold coin,” Daphne said, pulling it out. The coin was so old and worn it was hard to tell what the original denomination was.

“Where’d that come from?” Doris asked.

“Death, I think,” Daphne said, gesturing at the hooded figure with the scythe who was being led away by security. “Probably got it off the eyes of a dead king. You can have it.”

“Heh.”

“Let’s divvy it up and then promenade,” Daphne said. “Sinbad, you good for a twenty?”

“Works,” the drummer said. “I can’t remember the last time I got paid. Oh, yeah. Mosul, 1648.”

“Funny,” Doris replied.

“Think you can walk around in that now?” Daphne asked.

“Yeah, I think I can.”

“You’re a brave, brave girl,” Daphne said, chuckling.

They headed upstairs, stopping every few feet for pictures, and finally reached the lobby. Despite the picture-taking ban, quite a few people were up there in costume simply to be admired.

“Whoa!” Doris said, stopping to look at one of the outfits. The woman was nearly as tall as she, with equally red hair, and wore a magnificent laser-cut leather bodice and bikini bottom that were formed like demon hands. The matching leather wings were, if anything, more amazing. The demon horns were quite unnecessary.

“That’s an amazing costume,” Doris said, smiling at her.

“Yes,” the woman replied. “And it doesn’t make me look like a slut.”

“Excuse me?” Doris said, stunned.

“Piss off, trash,” the woman said, ignoring her.

“That’s Garnet,” Daphne said, quietly, drawing Doris away. “I’d better warn you, that’s your main competition for Dawn this year. And that outfit is just what she’s wearing for her hall costume. I can’t imagine what her Dawn costume is going to look like.”

“Oh,” Doris said in a small voice.

“Don’t let her get to you, though,” Daphne said. “She knows you’re going to be in Dawn and she’s trying to get to you. She’s always like that.”

“Well, sometimes people can be sort of prickly on the outside…”

“Don’t think it,” Daphne said, shaking her head. “She’s a bitch all the way to the core.”

“Oh.”

“She’s going to do anything she can get away with to make sure she wins Dawn,” Daphne said. “If you let her get to you, she will. Don’t.”

“Okay,” Doris said, nodding. “I won’t. Screw her.”

“That’s the spirit.”

She changed in Duncan’s room again. The harem-girl costume fit comfortably in her backpack, but she fingered the material for a bit before stuffing it away. She had no clue the next time she’d get to wear it, but she was looking forward to it. Kelly had been right, she looked very hot in a harem-girl outfit. And not at all like a slut.

Looking hot, knowing she looked hot, had never been something she could even imagine. It felt good to be appreciated. It was amazing the changes that had been wrought on her in just a few days. The fact that she could take an insult like the one that Garnet woman had thrown at her and more or less ignore it, proved that.

But that brought up the question of Dawn. Kelly had said that it was getting to be more and more of a costume contest, and even with the money she had left from her find, there was no way she could create a really outstanding outfit by tomorrow. Which meant she needed an edge…

Hmmm…

She picked up the practice sword Edmund had given her and hefted it. Then she picked up her backpack and left the room.

There had to be somewhere in this gigantic hotel where she could be alone.