TROUBLE FINDS YOU

Fred hurried out of the shop and was grateful to breathe the stagnant air of the town. His eyes wandered over the shoppers and stall keepers close by, and he ventured out into the main market area. Fred hardly moved a few yards from the alley before he heard a commotion around the corner. His curiosity swept aside his caution, and besides, he wouldn't go far and would be back before the others were done with his shopping. He went around a nearby corner, and found a group of men and women who stood at the entrance to one of the darkest and narrowest alleys. They had their attention on something in there; Fred jumped up and down, but the crowd was too packed around something on the ground for him to catch a glimpse of it himself.

Fred noticed a pile of crates along one of the walls and jumped on top of one of them to get a view. He reached the second tier and the moment his foot stomped down on the wood he felt the boards shift beneath him. The movement threw him off balance, and he flailed his arms as he fell down into the crowd. His hands knocked into faces and limbs, and the people pushed back against him. They inadvertently shoved him along their shoulders to the front where he was unceremoniously dropped to the ground on his back. The air was knocked from his lungs, and Fred wheezed and rolled over onto his stomach. He stuck his face into that of a dead man.

The man lay on his back, and his eyes were open and stared lifelessly up at the sky. There was no sign of what had killed him, but Fred noticed that a dirty, multi-colored cat sat beside the man's waist. Its golden eyes watched him with the same interest as he watched it.

Somebody behind him gave him a kick closer to the dead man. The boy yelped and fell back on his rear away from the corpse; there was no telling what killed him and Fred didn't want to take any chances with disease. The crowd roared with laughter over his fear, but their humor died when they heard the clanging of metal. The guards of the town soon arrived and pushed their way through the crowds. Fred scrambled to the side before they booted him with their pointed metal shoes. One of the men, the captain by the higher crest on his helmet, knelt beside the body and frowned. "It's a pimp," he informed his men.

"And one of the lower ones. I know him from his gambling debts," one of his men remarked. "He was as bad at cards as he was at wooing women."

The men chuckled at the joke until their leader glared at them. "Unlucky pimp or not, this man's been murdered and we need to find the murderer." He pulled something out of the man's neck and held up a small dart. "Unless you men believe he stuck himself with a poison dart."

"Sorry, sir, we'll get on it," his man replied.

Fred heard a man murmur to another close at hand. "It must be Sins," he whispered to his companion.

"Sins?" the other one asked.

The first man rolled his eyes. "You know, the deadly assassin, the Deadly Sins, the one who only takes on jobs to kill men who commit sins. I bet you a gold coin the pimp's debtors must have wanted to collect on this man's debt and had Sins do him in."

His friend chuckled. "Well, being a pimp and a gambler definitely would've made him a good target."

Their conversation was interrupted when the guards turned their attention on the crowd, and suddenly everyone had somewhere else they needed to be. The men grabbed those closest to the body before they could flee, while the others at the back spilled out into the streets. Half the crowd managed to escape, though with the lead guard close at their heals. Unfortunately, Fred was in the half that were rounded up. One of the guards picked him up by his collar and tossed him together with the others.

"Wait a moment, that's my boy," a voice spoke up.

The guards and Fred turned toward the alley entrance, where stood a tall man with long black whiskers and slicked-back black hair. Fred had never seen the man before, but the stranger walked up to him and put his hand on Fred's shoulder. "This is my son. I'm sure he wasn't involved in any of this."

"Oh yeah, and who are you?" one of the guards asked him.

The man pulled out a bag that jingled with coins. "Someone who doesn't like questions, but would like this boy released," he replied, and jangled the bag for good measure.

"Well, those credentials work out for us," the guard answered with a laugh.

Fred watched gold exchange hands, and he was quickly handed over to the stranger. The man hurriedly led him out of the alley and turned down a side street close at hand that skirted the marketplace. "Why did you do that?" Fred asked the stranger.

"Oh, let's just say I like the look of you," the man told him. "Ah, but where are my manners? My name is Slavino."

"My name's Fred."

"Fred?" the man repeated. "Just Fred? No family name?"

Fred shrugged. "I don't have family," the boy replied.

Slavino's eyebrows raised and the edges of his mouth twitched. "No friends or acquaintances that might get you out of a tight spot?"

"I have a lord who just bought me. I should return to him right now." Fred made to leave, but the man put a heavy hand on his shoulder.

Slavino patted the boy on the back. "Well, Fred, perhaps we'll do something about that later. For now how about you step into my house and take a drink? I'm sure that after such a scare you're parched."

"I haven't had anything to drink in a while," Fred admitted. Not since his companions and he were on the road, and they happened to pass close to the river.

"Then let's get you some of my special drink. That will pick you right up," Slavino offered. Fred followed the man into an old, rundown house, very different from what he expected for a man so rich. There was a simple table with two broken chairs, and a trunk in one corner. Slavino offered him a chair while he pulled out a flask from his coat. "I'm afraid I don't have any glasses, but I'm sure you're not used to too much finery."

"It's fine," Fred replied with a smile. He took the flask and put the bottle to his mouth. His nose caught a whiff of the contents and he started back. For the first time he worried about his predicament. "What's in this stuff?"

"Oh, just some herbs and spices. It adds to the flavor," Slavino told him.

Fred frowned, but he was too thirsty to argue. He took a few sips, wrinkled his nose at the flavor and handed the flask back to the man. Slavino pocketed the flask without taking a sip himself. Fred slipped off his chair and smiled at his kind benefactor. "Well, thanks for the drink. I guess I'll just be going now."

Slavino stepped in his path. "Going? Why leave me when you have no one else to turn to?" the man asked him.

That cloud of doubt drifted over Fred's mind; his stomach also began to hurt. "I'm sure my lord will be worried-"

"Oh, but I must insist you stay with me," Slavino replied. He grabbed onto the boy's shoulders in a grip tight enough to make Fred squirm. "I'll be sure you're well taken care of."

Fred tried to break free, but the pain in his stomach and the man's strong grip combined to make him a prisoner. "Let go of me!" he shouted.

Slavino pushed Fred back into the corner near the trunk. "Well, no matter with your friends. They won't be able to recognize you soon, anyway."

The man stepped over to him and Fred crawled back against the trunk. "W-what do you mean?" The boy's eyes widened when Slavino pulled a knife from his belt; he would be cut up and left for dead. "P-please don't! I won't tell anyone about this, I swear!"

"I'm sure you won't, girl, because nobody's going to believe you."

Fred blinked; the man just called him a girl. However, the pain in his stomach distracted him from any other thoughts. He clutched at his gut and doubled over. The agony traveled over his entire body, and he grit his teeth when his skin began to tingle. "What-what did you do to me?" he asked Slavino.

The man ignored him and knelt down in front of Fred. Slavino brought the knife down on the boy's clothing and tore it away, stripping him of everything except his underclothes. Fred looked down at himself and his eyes widened in horror; his skin pushed and flowed over his bones like waves of water. His flat, tanned chest bulged out in two points beneath his nipples; he now had a pair of fine breasts. His hair tumbled over his shoulders and covered the breasts. The skin on his legs and arms stretched and smoothed out while his feet narrowed. He raised his shaking fingers and watched them thin and lengthen. A coughing fit overcame him, and he heard his voice change from a low register to a higher one.

The transformation took only a minute, and when the pain left him Fred glanced down at himself and didn't recognize the body. He was a girl in every physical sense of the word. Slavino looked over him and rubbed his chin. "A little too tan for a high price, but the face and body are good," the man mumbled to himself.

Fred looked up at the man and tears sprang to his eyes. "What did you do to me?"

Slavino waved away his question. "Nothing much, just turned you into a girl." The man turned to the trunk and tossed out a few dresses of fine quality. "Now get up and try these on. The sale starts in a few minutes and I don't want to wait another day for it to come around."

Fred crawled away from the dresses and shook his head. "Just change me back! I want to be a-"

Slavino turned and smacked Fred across the cheek. His voice was low and dangerous. "You'll get into those clothes, girl, or I'll finish the job I started with this knife." He held up the weapon to emphasize his point, and Fred saw that there were red stains on the blade.

Fred saw no mercy in the man's eyes, so he did as he was told. Slavino was pleased when a bright yellow dress fitted him, along with a pair of matching shoes. He had Fred stand still while he combed the girl's hair and tie it into an intricate, braided hairstyle. Slavino washed the boy's face and hands, all the while he gave instructions to his captive. "Your name is now Frederica, or Erica for short. You will follow me to the slave sale and say nothing. Even if you get a chance to talk to someone nobody's going to believe I changed you into a girl, so don't try anything stupid." Fred didn't reply, so he gave a hard yank on her hair; the girl gave a cry of fright and pain. "Do you understand?"

"Y-yes," Fred replied. Never in his worst nightmares could he have ever imagined himself being sold as a slave girl.