“Yes,” I added thoughtfully. “I wonder why.”
“Well have to learn more about them,” my little sister said.
“Should I take the images to Percy?” I asked.
“No. No sense in frightening him. We're sure who they are. We'll just have to play along for a week or two, and hope they don't hop before we figure out their angle and close it up for good. I'd hate to have them think they can just march in and use the Bazaar for an ATM” She looked around. “I miss Skeeve. He'd have asked what that is.”
I'd have been hard pressed to put my finger on the difference between the days before the two Pervects made their visit and the time after, but I sensed an uneasiness in our clientele that had not been there before. Not that I ever anticipated that Deveels, Imps, and the like would ever have become comfortable, nay, eager, to have a Troll anywhere near them with an eyelash curler, but palpable fear began to percolate through the tent. I didn't like it. During the subsequent days I found myself growling quietly while mixing cosmetics, provoked by I know not what unknown pressures. Guido kept casting his eyes around suspiciously, his hand never far away from the weapon concealed underneath his green smock. Tananda also was more highly strung than usual, pushing back cuticles with heartless precision, only snapping out of her trance when a customer yelped in pain.
“I don't like this,” she whispered, when she stopped near my chair to toss a basin of water out the tent flap. “I sense depressing magik surrounding us like a cone. I've felt all over the place, but I can't find the source — no live magician within range, not even a handy line of force.”
“It may be purely technological,” I remarked. “A remote installation that makes use of a stored source of power. Perv is known to be comfortable with both technology and magik.”
“Well, so are we,” Tananda said. “We had better do something, or by the end of the week we won't have a single client”
That night we took the place apart, quite literally. I wrenched up the chairs one at a time so that Guido and Tanda could look underneath them. We unstitched the tent panels, tested every jar, vase, bottle, and container that might conceal a device. We checked the lamps and rugs for disgruntled Djinni or Efreets, both known to inhabit such items. Little Sister even employed Assassin techniques to find footprints or airprints of every being that had been anywhere near us since the Pervects' visit.
“Anyone who's been here has come in on foot except Birkli,” Tananda said, after our searches proved fruitless. “See the wing prints?” Guido and I looked at the feathery traces on the air that her magik had brought out.
“Wait a minute,” Guido said, pointing at two different lines of flutter marks. “Dese ain't the same as dose. I've tracked a lotta fly-by-nights, and I know my wing prints.”
“By heavens, you're right,” I declared, after a quick inspection. “What can that mean?”
“I don't know, but I know who can tell us,” Tananda said, tapping her foot impatiently. “Birkli!”
“Coming right this minute, lovely lady! Ready when you are!” The gaudy Shutterbug dropped out of the ceiling. “Here are today's ladies, one and all! Are they perfect? Are they beautiful?”
Tananda held out a hand and he lit upon it. She drew him close to her face, her voice purring. “But you're leaving one out, aren't you, Birkli?”
“Not one, not one, fair green girl!” Birkli protested, his antenna drawing down over his multiple-lensed eyes. But he seemed a bit put out.
“Who is she?” Tananda asked.
“Who?” I interrupted.
“The flitter who made those other wing prints,” she said, without breaking eye contact with the Bug. “You were supposed to take an exposure of every being who came into this tent except us. Why didn't you take one of her?”
“How'd'you know it's a she?” Guido asked.
“How do I know?” Tananda repeated. “Look at him!”
The Shutterbug did seem to be in the deepest throes of embarrassment. “Forgive one who loves too well but not wisely,” he wailed. “Such a beauty was this Lady Bug, to fall in beside me as I flew out among the fabulous sights of the Bazaar. Her spots, so black; her shell so red! She praised my wings, my legs, my scales! thought it would do no harm to bring her here, where it was private. I showed her my images, and she was impressed, most impressed!”
“If that isn't the oldest line there is, bringing a girl back to look at his etchings,” Tananda fumed. “And I suppose she left you a keepsake of some kind?”
Birkli flew back into the folded cloth that served as his temporary quarters and returned with a small glowing sphere the size of his head. “Only this, fair lady. Forgive an ardent male too easily blinded by the beauties of female-hood!”
Tananda held it up between her thumb and forefinger. “As we surmised, Big Brother. A bug, as only a Bug Lady can make it Compact, powerful and easily concealed.” She tossed it to me, and I crushed it in my fist. Birkli backed away uneasily as I let the powdered remains fall from my hand to the floor.
“We're not gonna dust you,” Guido said, going eye to eye with the Shutterbug. “Not if you cooperate. Now, let's see the pic of the moll.”
Hastily Birkli produced a strip of wing-cells and handed them over. The denizens of Trollia were ardent lovers themselves, but even I felt abashed as Tananda held them in front of the magik lantern. “Hot stuff, what?” I said, awkwardly.
“We're not trying to pry into your private life,” Tananda assured Birkli, “but we've got to be careful. I thought we told you that.”
We accepted Birkli's apologies. Tananda paid him off and sent him back to Nikkonia. “We don't really need him any longer,” she explained. “We know who our enemies are now, and we know they're quick-thinking and willing to exploit any weakness they perceive.”
“I agree,” Guido said. “We were buggin' ourselves, under the circumstances. How do we know he didn't sell 'em images of us?”
“Didn't need 'em,” Tananda said shortly. “They knew we were here. Two days' observation would tell them that if we weren't the beauticians we claimed to be, we were putting in enough work to prove we wanted to be taken for beauticians. To a blackmailer, that's enough to exploit.”
“So, what is our next attack?” I asked. “We pay them,” Tananda said simply. “What?” Don Brace's enforcer burst out. “Not a bent nickel.”
“Yes, a bent nickel,” Tananda corrected him, with a wide grin on her face. “And whatever else they ask for. This week. I have a plan.”
With a wave around our heads to create a silence spell to shut out any potential eavesdroppers, my little sister drew us close. In a moment, we were smiling as widely as she.
Tananda allowed us to look as sour as possible when Charilor came by the next afternoon to collect their fee. “There, I told you,” the Pervect said, watching Little Sister count coins grudgingly into a sack. “Five gold coins wasn't so hard to raise!”
“It would have been a lot easier if you hadn't put a gloom spell on the place for two days,” Guido said resentfully.
“That was Vergetta's idea,” the chunky Pervect said, with a twist of her lips, as she glanced back toward the elder female waiting by the entrance to the tent. Did I sense disapproval of her senior's methods? “But you still managed to raise the dough. We should've asked for more.”
“We couldn't have raised more,” Tananda said, eyes wide, managing to sound a little desperate. “This is all we made this week. I mean, everything! We've even had to put off some of our expenses, and our creditors are not happy. You're not going to raise your… fee … are you?”
Charilor swept the leather purse into her belt pouch and stood up. “No. You have our word: our demands will never go up.”