Voshak's hair, a pale blond braid, which he bleached, was his trademark. It made him memorable. That's how the slavers operated. They adopted costumes and personas, trying to make themselves larger-than-life and hoping to inspire fear. They counted on that fear. One could fight a man, but nobody could fight a nightmare.

Wanna spot me?" "No thanks. How about I just scream verbal encouragements at you?

Well, check this out. Mine is bigger.

As one, the shapechangers turned and looked at me. I wondered what they'd do if I asked to borrow a cup of sugar.

Had he expected me to hump her leg?

When in doubt, poke the beehive with a stick to see if anything interesting flies out. I clapped my hands. 'I had no idea Pit teams had such pretty cheerleaders. Can you do it again, but with more spirit this time?

You know anything about investigative work?" "Sure. Annoy the people involved until the guilt party tries to make you go away.