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Jon-Tom's occasional wanderings took him far and wide, though he normally never stayed away from the tree for very long. One of these journeys took him to the town of Sechtelly, along the river Logaro. It was a distance from the Bellwoods, and he came upon it more by accident than by design.

Now, the river wasn't much of a river, being shallow and slow. The town seemed to mirror this, with its residents being shallow and slow as well. But then, Jon-Tom wasn't quick to judge. Sometimes appearances were deceiving.

His initial appraisal of the town seemed to be confirmed when he walked by a stall selling people. Now, you must remember, people in this world didn't mean humans, simply any intelligent being. He stopped and stared. Slavery wasn't something he saw too often here, and he didn't like the look of it now.

The booth owner was a ratty looking opossum. At first he thought it was a he, but after witnessing money going in and out of her pouch, corrected his opinion of its sex. The fact that she was a she made her appearance all the more horrendous.

Jon-Tom didn't want to make a scene, but he was secretly fuming. When business died down a bit, he approached the owner.

She smiled a craggy toothed grin. "So man, what can I do for you? Looking for an assistant? It's hard to tell your profession by your dress."

"Assistant? Is that what you call your slaves?"

The possum hissed. "I don't sell slaves you idiot!"

He stood his ground. "Then what do you call this?"

She looked around and shook her head. "You out-of-towners! This here is an employment stall. I get paid to promote these fine examples of humanity to the various guilds. People come to me, and I find 'em employment or employees"

"You mean like in whore houses?"

The possum jumped over the counter and pulled a knife on him. "Look sonny, don't get smart with me! If a girl wants a job in a whore house, I can find her a madam. But most of the girls hardly need me for a job like that. I set 'em up with craftsmen; tailors, jewelers; whatever. What kind of idiot are you?"

"Apparently a fairly stupid one. My apologies. I'm still getting used to things around here."

The possum retracted her knife. "Humans always are the dumbest. So what's your profession man?"

He pulled his duar around. "Spellsinger!"

She looked at him with a critical eye. "Dumb folks don't go being spellsingers. So I guess you ain't dumb, just ignorant." Then her tone changed. "So man, do you happen to need an apprentice? I've got some mighty fine girls, good with their hands, and quick witted. Girls that catch on quickly!"

He couldn't tell if she was plying their brains or their bodies. Sex sells, so she might be working two angles at once. Either way, he wasn't interested. Well, he was interested, but he didn't like thinking he was going to have sex with someone he either bought or was treating like a whore. He decided to put on a front and look the girls over. But first, he wanted information.

"So how does this work? I pay you and..."

"The girls pay me up front. Room and board. When I set them up with a sponsor, the sponsor pays me a finder's fee. Trust me honey, this isn't a money maker by any means."

Jon-Tom peeked into each little booth, smiling at the girls inside. They all smiled back readily. If Mudge had known about this place he would have robbed a bank and gone on a three week orgy. But as he looked up and down the line, only one seemed to stand out. He caught her...perfume, before he got there. Her booth was set apart from the others.

He ignored the odor and looked in. Sure enough, inside was a skunk. Jon-Tom rarely encountered skunks. The smell, even in this world, was a bit too much for most people. She had probably been sitting here biding her time for weeks.

Holding his breath, he looked her over with a critical eye. She wasn't a typical skunk, not by a long ways. Instead of a pair of solid white stripes, she was covered with a broken pattern of elongated spots. She had a magnificent tail that came up over her back to rest just above her head.

Her face was lovely, and when she looked up, she wore a smile. Jon-Tom figured that had to be hard to maintain knowing that everyone that came by would be offended by her aroma. She was working on some jewelry, apparently having a talent in that direction.

The possum leaned into him, whispering up towards his head. "Sonny, if you take this one, I'll waive the fee and forget you insulted me."

"But I'm not good enough at magic to be her teacher."

"Sonny, I don't care what you do with her. She's a good girl, but no one with a decent nose can abide by her. I say if she's willing to go with you, you should consider it. Who knows, maybe your magic can give you a spell to block your nose automatically. I'm sure she'd be a willing concubine if nothing else."

He was bordering on being angry. The problem was, the more he looked at her the more he found her attractive, despite the smell. But what could he offer her? He was pretty sure he couldn't just waltz back to Clothahump with a new roommate. His only hope was to find a job for her somewhere. But where? He didn't see many skunks, so what did they do? Work in the sewers? Or smelly cheese factories? He wasn't trying to be mean, but really; what did the average skunk do for a living?

He called to the skunk. "What's your name girl?"

She did a polite bow. "Zorilla sir."

"Zorilla? That's an interesting name."

She remained quiet.

"My name is Jon-Tom."

"That too is an interesting name. Is there something I can do for you?"

"Would you like to leave with me? I'm a spellsinger, and I don't know if I have much to offer you, but you're welcome to travel with me."

She set down her jewelry. "Travel? No one wants to be around my type for any longer than need or pleasantry dictates sir. What's you game? I have nothing against being someone's... how do I say this; someone's plaything if there is more to it than that. If I wanted to be a whore, I certainly didn't need to come here."

The possum snorted. "Honey, you may have looks, but no one would pay good money to ruin their nose in the process. I'd suggest you take this gent up on his offer. He ain't much to look at, but I have a feeling he might be the best you get!"

Zorilla thought about it, then packed up her tools. She went into a nearby building to gather her stuff. The possum cracked a smile.

"I can finally air that dormitory out! Thanks human. Like I said, she's a nice and pretty girl. If you can get past your nose, you'll be home free."

He was doing his best to ignore her, thinking on a spell. The problem was, did he want a spell that would affect all the skunks on this world? Would that be fair? Probably not. So he needed one just for her. But did she want a permanent change? On the other hand, he could try a spell that changed everyone's perception of her odor. After all, the smell was unpleasant to skunks...was it?

She came out a little while later toting some heavy bags. He extended a hand. "Here, let me take those."

She cut him off. "I'll handle my own stuff if you don't mind. I'm not going to be a burden to you."

He stopped and undid his cape. "Let's get this straight right off the bat. I am nothing more than your friend. I don't own you and I don't control you. What you do from here on out is totally up to you. So give me your damn bags!"

"What if I don't want to? You said..."

He sighed. "Zorilla, I have a way of carrying things that makes it easy. Watch." He reached into the opening and pulled out some fruit. He then tossed them back in and patted the cape down. "See, they're there, but they're not there. "

She reluctantly handed over a small bag, which he put in, in much the same manner. There was no bulge in the material. He pulled it back out again to show her, and returned it to the dark recesses of the cape. When her belongings were all safely put away, they set off.

"So you really are a wizard?"

"Not really. I'm still learning."

"But your cape; that took some powerful magic!"

"A gift from a friend. I'm not certain I would know how to make something like it with my magic. I guess I could, but I wouldn't have the slightest idea how. I've done some incredible things, but I've also done some incredibly inconvenient things. "

She looked him over. "You might save yourself a lot of bother on this trip if you used your magic to plug your nose. I don't understand the aversion to how I smell, but it seems to hit everyone but us skunks."

"Have you tried taking baths?"

She stiffened up. "Look human, I bath every day. What you smell is part of me, like my fur. It doesn't bother me, just everyone else."

"Sorry. I'm just trying to help."

The walked for quite a while before he sat down and contemplated. This was a case of needing something, and knowing the problem but not the solution. He strummed his duar, hoping for inspiration. None came. So he just played songs from his memory. She sat down and listened.

After he finished several in a row, she applauded. "I don't see any magic, but you play very well. I have never heard any of these songs. Where are they from?"

"My home, which is impossibly far away."

He went back to playing, ignoring her and her smell, intent on trying to find an answer. In the middle of one song, a light appeared, as did the comforting presence of gneechees. The problem was, he wasn't thinking of a solution to the problem right now. So what could it be?

He kept playing, watching the light coalesce on a rock. When he was done playing, there was a small handsome, deep green bottle sitting there. I looked like it held perhaps a pint of some unknown liquid. They both stared at it.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Haven't a clue," said he.

He picked it up and looked at it. The bottle was lovely in its own right, but the was curious about its contents. He carefully pulled the cork and sniffed the what was inside.

"Well?"

"I can't smell anything, but that might be because of you." Before she could protest, he touched the cork to his tongue.

He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on his tongue. Whatever the stuff was, it didn't seem to have a flavor. He would have declared it to be water, except for the oily feel to it. He opened his eyes and put the cork back. He looked up at Zorilla and froze.

"What's wrong human?"

"Nothing's wrong... How did you manage to change your aroma so quickly? And when did you get to be so beautiful?"

She was taken aback. His words, coupled with the look of complete infatuation on his face, told her something was up. She pulled the bottle from his fingers. "I'll look after this, thank you!"

"Whatever you want dear. Did I ever tell you how much I love you?"

She found herself in a unique situation. He had apparently managed to conjure up a love spell. He was kind of cute, but see didn't want to feel obligated to stay with him forever. She wanted to have kids some day, and she doubted she could with a species this far removed from her own. On the other hand, a little dalliance with him in this condition might prove interesting. Men were usually so rough and brutish, and while this one seemed nice before, now she was pretty sure he would be putty in her hands.

"So Jon-Tom; you say you love me. How do I know you're telling me the truth?"

"Name me a duty and I will perform it without question."

"Really?" The thrill in her voice was audible.

"I will do anything for you."

"Well lover boy, I'm not above bedding you, even here in the woods, but I think I need a little warm up. Could you be a good boy and get my juices flowing?"

He looked confused for a moment until she spread her legs. The confusion vanished in an instant.

He got down and went to work like he knew what he was doing. Before she was swept off into dreamland, she managed two thoughts. The first was that he was a keeper. The second was that whatever he had spelled and partaken of, even the tiny amount he had touched to his tongue, needed to be treated carefully. They would have to find an experienced wizard to tell them what it was in that bottle. In the meantime, it looked like the trip was going to be more pleasant than she thought.