Murmurs began to arise from the crowd, and the spectacle had caused the usual tavern goers to give the enchanting 'seeress' a wide berth, shifting seats or watching her from the side. None of them saw the trick she had pulled other than Amal, however, who had been watching the charade from the opposite corner of the room. He had been sipping his drink as he enjoyed the ploy. Truth be told, he had initially been fooled like the rest of them when she had transmuted the coins, but he caught on quickly when he saw her sleight of hand. 

As the man fled into the streets, Amal lifted up both his tankard and hers and made his way over to her around the crowd's blind spots, so as not to draw too much attention to himself. "You know, women of ill repute do not last long in Araby." he teased, sliding her mead across to the table into her waiting hands. She took the drink happily, pleased with herself. He smirked, leaning back casually. 

"Then again, if you're to dabble in unknown arts, Copher is where to do it." He conceded, and they toasted to their recent gold and adventures. 

Amal had expected to lose sight of her more than a few times throughout their journey, and he believed she likely had thought the same of him. The cutthroat had to admit that without one another, neither would have made it out of Al-Hiekk alive, much less would have made it to Copher. He wasn't certain if he respected her skills, it was his curiosity on the map, or it was simple attraction, but somehow they were still reaping the benefits of other's misfortunes with one another.

He could get used to this. 
[hr]
[i]Hours later...[/i] 

The day was waning, and though the sun still held sway over the sky, it would only be a few short hours before it would fall into the evening, and they still needed to find a place to stay within the city. The establishment they had been within had no rooms, only drinks, of which the two of them had plenty. Perhaps not enough to halt their reason, but it gave them a comfortable feeling as they walked around the city. 

Balconies hovered above them, the calls of men and the giggling of women emerging from within the towering spires they were attached to. Amal had the urge to climb one and take his chance at stealing something valuable, but now was not the time. They had left the shops, and the towers of learning and wizardry stood vigil over the northern edge of the city, but between them and there were the western docks that stretched over the coastline. 

A crowd bogged down the streets that reached the docks, and even from a distance it was obvious why. There atop various raised wooden platforms were slaves from across the world, bound and chained and being sold off to anyone wealthy enough to purchase them. Some of them looked much like Emmaline, but still others were from Cathay or even further south from Araby, and Amal even noticed a knife eared elf or two being pinched like raw meat. 

Emmaline shuddered, no doubt remembering her days as the love puppet of the Emir. Amal remembered days in his youth being chained as well. But it was how things were, and he couldn't change it. "In Araby, you have three choices." He said, glancing at Emmaline. "Enslave, be enslaved, or steal for a living." The thief shrugged, and turned to leave, before Emmaline let out a squeal that took the soft comfort of the drink right out of him. 

He spun, his offhand already on the dagger he had hidden behind his tunic on his lower back. She was held by two strong hands, one from two men. Both were Corsairs with rough facial hair and an appraising eye. The man on the left lifted her chin up, moving her head side to side roughly. "Is she for sale?" he asked in Arabyan, and upon closer inspection Emmaline would see his right eye was made of glass. He turned it to Amal. "Are you her owner? Do you have papers?" 

Amal grabbed the Corsair's arm, and a dagger materialized in his offhand, now pressed to the Corsair's throat. "She is mine," he said, realizing the futility of trying to claim she was not a slave. "She was not brought in with the others, now be off." He warned, and shoved the man away. The Corsair snarled, but made no move to reach for Emmaline again until he saw his partner grab the hilt of his cutlass. 

"Show us her mark. You can never be too careful-" He began, but Amal had lived in Araby too long to know that this could be negotiated out of. The two men looked like they could handle themselves, so he didn't attack with his dagger. Instead, he gave a smile and kicked the dirt and sand that had accumulated on the road, hitting the men in their widened eyes and causing them to stumble back in surprise and pain. 

"Allah curse you!" one roared, the other swiping the street with his sword, but there was no only air where there had been Emmaline before, Amal having lead her through the window of one of the spires across the street, closing it before the two pirates knew what had happened. Closing the veil-curtain, Amal winked. "Well, some men steal [i]and[/i] enslave. But who's counting?" 
[@Penny]