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found by a rich Zetithian.
    On the other hand, long spiral curls like Onca’s were totally impractical for anyone living on the street—something she had discovered when hers had gotten caught on a street vendor’s stall during her first attempt at thievery. She had escaped the encounter with a bleeding scalp, a Rhylosian sausage, and the intention of cutting her hair as soon as possible. The next thing she had stolen was a knife, which, despite its rather blunt edge, she’d used to hack off her waist-length tresses. Kim had learned a lot since then, not the least of which was how to put a razor-sharp edge on an old blade. She’d also discovered that shorter hair made her appear younger than her actual years. Onca and Roncas weren’t the first to make the assumption that she was a child—a side effect she had frequently used to her advantage.
    Looking like a kid hadn’t helped her friends, though. Every one of them had been as undernourished as she, and they had still been snatched off the street. At least, Kim thought that was what had happened to them. She really didn’t know.
    As large cities went, Damenk was relatively safe, and since much of the wealth accumulated there relied on the tourist trade, the local government did as much as possible to maintain that illusion. However, the city had its seamier side, something Kim had seen firsthand.
    The death of her family wasn’t the only example. Jatki’s father had sexually abused his daughter for most of her life until the poor girl finally ran away at the age of twelve. Kim had found her huddled in a corner on a dark backstreet, crying her eyes out. The other members of their gang all had similar stories and good reasons for not trusting anyone in authority.
    Kim still wasn’t sure Onca could be trusted. For all she knew, he and Roncas were behind the disappearances of the other girls. She doubted it, though. Onca might not mean any of that crap about never fucking her, but he didn’t seem cruel.
    Plus, he was Zetithian. Somehow she suspected that fact was more significant than his personality or even his line of work. He had a certain guilelessness about him that made her want to trust him. Glancing around the room once again, she realized this was probably the safest place she had ever been in her life.
    Resisting the urge to dive into the bed for a nap, she snatched up the clothes Roncas had brought, donning a pair of slacks and a tunic. Like the shirt Onca had provided, they were made of exotically patterned silk and looked expensive. Unfortunately, the slacks kept sliding off her hips, necessitating the use of her “bra” as a belt again.
    She approached the door with no idea how to open it. “Okay, Captain. Let me out.”
    “As you wish,” Captain replied. “Although a simple wave of your hand is all that is required.”
    “Oh.”
    Onca and Roncas were still in the kitchen and had undoubtedly been discussing her, for their conversation ended abruptly as Kim entered.
    “Don’t you look cute,” Onca said, although his smile seemed a little forced.
    “I love what you’ve done with your hair,” Roncas added. “It’s much…smoother.”
    “I didn’t do anything to it,” Kim said. “The dryer did it. Or maybe it was the soap. I’m not sure.” She drew in a deep breath. “I guess I’m all set for whatever nefarious plans you two have for me.”
    “Nefarious?” Onca echoed. “Dunno about that.” He glanced at Roncas, then shifted his gaze back to Kim. “Did Captain say anything to you?”
    She shrugged. “Just something about a Zetithian setting on the hair dryer and how to open the door.”
    “Good. I thought maybe he told you we were going to sell you into slavery or something equally nefarious .”
    Roncas twittered again, leading Kim to assume this was her way of laughing. “You can trust him, Kim. He hasn’t got a mean bone in his body.” She cast a snide look in his direction. “Not very smart, though.”
    “Hey, now,”