CHAPTER TWENTY
We traveled westward again out of the less desirable parts of town and into a small marketplace. A dozen stalls lined the sides and were filled with homemade knittings and foods grown from backyard gardens. A healthy number of customers surveyed their goods, but one seller stood out. Literally.
A man of average height stood on a low box in front of a tag board. A vast array of broaches, necklaces, and rings dotted the wood.
“Come one, come all!” the man shouted above the din of the market. “See my fine howlite goods before they’re snatched up by the humans of Dimness!” I stopped to watch the demonstration as the hawker held up two necklaces in each hand. “Does anyone care to try one of my fine goods? Won’t cost a thing!”
“Except our lives if it’s a lousy one!” so
