Slowly the man grew smaller. Before his lord’s stare, he collapsed in on himself, his head falling to his bent knees, and then his whole body sinking down, conveying physically his wish to be beneath his duke’s notice.

The Duke of Chalced moved his mouth, a memory of a smile.

“For today, you may keep both your sons. Tomorrow? Tomorrow, we both hope for good news.”

“This way.”

Someone lifted the heavy flap of canvas that served as a door. A slice of light stabbed into the gloom but as swiftly vanished, to be replaced by yellow lamplight. The two-headed dog in the stall next to his whined and shifted. Selden wondered when the poor beast had last seen daylight, real daylight. The crippled creature had already been in residence when Selden had been acquired. For him, it had been months, perhaps as long as a year, since he had felt the sun’s touch. Daylight was the enemy of mystery. Daylight could reveal that half of the wonders and legends displayed in the tented bazaar’s shoddy stalls were either freaks or fakes. And daylight could reveal that even those with some claim to being genuine were in poor health.

Like him.

The lantern light came closer, the yellow glare making his eyes water. He turned his face away from it and closed his eyes. He didn’t get up. He knew the exact length of the chains attached to his ankles, and he had tried his strength against theirs when they had first brought him here. They had grown no weaker, but he had. He lay as he was and waited for the visitors to pass. But they halted in front of his stall.

“That’s him? I thought he would be big! He’s no bigger than an ordinary man.”

“He’s tall. You don’t notice it so much when he’s curled up like that.”

“I can hardly see him, back in that corner. Can we go in?”