I would say it was a major dilemma except for one thing. The displays on either side of Bunny’s tent and for two rows behind it were in a similar state. That is a major dilemma, making the destruction of a single booth pale in comparison.
A voice sprang into my head, drowning out the clamor of the enraged merchants. “If you break it, you bought it!” the voice said, and it spoke with a Devan accent.
“What happened?” I gasped, though whether to myself or to the gods, I wasn’t sure.
Massha answered.
“What happened was Markie!” she said grimly. “She blew her cork and summoned up an air elemental . . . you know, like you learn to do at Elemental School? It appears that when the kid throws a tantrum, she’s going to do it with magic!”
My mind grasped the meaning of her words instantly, just as fast as it leaped on to the next plateau. Aahz! I wasn’t sure which was going to be worse: breaking the news to Aahz, or telling him how much it had cost us to learn about it!
Chapter Seven:
“There’s a time to fight, and a time to hide out!”
-B. CASSIDY
I’VE heard that when some people get depressed, they retire to their neighborhood bar and tell their troubles to a sympathetic bartender. The problem with the Bazaar at Deva (a problem I had never noticed before) is that there are no sympathetic bartenders!
Consequently, I had to settle for the next best thing and holed up in the Yellow Crescent Inn.
Now, a fast-food joint may seem to you to be a poor substitute for a bar. It is. This particular fast-food joint, however, is owned and managed by my only friend at the Bazaar who isn’t living with me. This last part was especially important at the moment, since I didn’t think I was apt to get much sympathy in my own home.