"They don't open until ten," the blue Dragonet said. A clock in Agora's belly up on the pediment showed that the minute hand was still a short distance from striking the hour. "We saw you try to line-hop. They'll tear you apart if you try."

"We'll stay back here," I said, holding my hands up in surrender.

But one small male with a domed head, deep blue skin, and tall, narrow, double-pointed ears seemed heedless of the danger. I watched curiously as he shoved his way into the mass of shoppers and plunged doggedly forward. Got tossed back again and again, landing at Aahz's feet. Had to admire the little guy's perseverance in the face of an obstacle I wouldn't face myself. Tossed back, clothes torn, the beginning of a bright purple bruise under one eye.

"That's it," he swore as he landed almost at our feet. He picked himself up and dusted himself off. "One more time they throw me back, and I'm not opening The Mall."

"I'll help," Massha said.

She levitated downward like a big orange balloon and scooped the little man up in her arms. Lightning bolts and missiles of various types flew at her from the irate crowd as she flew him toward the front of the line, but she dodged them all. At the door she let the little man down, then sailed up out of the way as the twelve-foot-high doors flew open, and the horde of shoppers poured forward.

Massha sailed back to us and settled down, a satisfied look on her face.

"Not a bad thing to start the day with a good deed," she remarked.

"Let's go," I said impatiently, as people surged past us on every side. "C'mon, Chumley."

Massha yelped as a furry shape hurtled past her.

"He's got my purse!" she shouted.

"I'll get him," Chumley offered gallantly, and made as if to dash after the little brown creature. Massha grabbed the Troll's arm.

"Never mind," she said with a smile. Putting two fingers in her mouth, she blew a sharp whistle.