Free The Sword And The Pen by Elysa Hendricks Page B

the crowd. Everywhere I looked I saw people I knew: Jole, Hausic, and several girls of ten and three who bore more than a passing resemblance to Mauri. They hovered around the dais. And yet, none of them was who they appeared.
    I grabbed one girl by the arm and turned her to face me. She squeaked in alarm and tried to twist free. I held tight and peered into her face. Pale blue eyes, not dark brown met my own.
    "Lady, let me go or I'll call my mom," the girl said.
    I released her and stumbled back. Was this some trick of the wizard's? Had he summoned alternate versions of his creations as a frightening display of his power? And none of these people seemed aware of not being real. They appeared entirely comfortable in this world.
    I battled the panic churning inside me. An ache formed behind my eyes.
    "Lady, you'd better get into costume," the youth from the sword merchant's booth said at my side. "You look like Serilda, but you'll never win in that getup."
    I turned to him in confusion. "Costume? I don't have a costume."
    "That's too bad. I've seen some of the other contestants and you'd win hands down. Hey, I know what. I've got a friend over at another booth who might be willing to help you out if you'd agree to mention his shop if you win. Come with me."
    I hesitated for a moment and scanned the area for the wizard. He was nowhere in sight. Where had he gone? Did I dare leave his side? Had he abandoned me?
    "I'm Matt. Come on. First prize is a hundred bucks." The lad reminded me of Jole in manner if not in looks.
    "Bucks?"
    He grinned at my lack of understanding. "Bread. Cash. Money. You know, coin of the realm."
    I had no idea what things cost in this world, but a hundred sounded like a substantial amount, the same as the cost of the one item of clothing the wizard purchased for me. Perhaps I could repay him for some of what he'd spent.
    Matt grabbed my arm and tugged me deeper into the crowd. Curious to see what would happen, I followed.
    The next few minutes passed in a blur. Matt hurried me to a booth filled with garments similar to those I was familiar wearing. The proprietor, an older man named Rick, smiled when he saw me. After a brief discussion he agreed to provide me with attire for this contest to see who most resembled the people from my world. I'm not sure why I agreed to participate in such an odd endeavor, but Matt and Rick's friendliness, and their enthusiasm for the competition, eased my apprehensions.
    Soon I found myself clothed in leather sandals, soft leather trousers and a cloth tunic. Matt handed me the sword I had tested earlier, and I strapped a wide belt around my waist. Not giving myself time to consider the wisdom of what was happening, I let him rush me back over to the dais.
    "Good luck," he said. "We're just in time."
    "And now, ladies and gentlemen, what we've all been waiting for: the contestants for Serilda!"
    Four women dressed in versions of my leather bra and skirt outfit went to stand on the dais, and I followed suit. I now wore a much more practical outfit than usual. The sight reminded me of how the wizard had manipulated me for so long. Amusement soothed my resentment, however. None of these women bore even a passing resemblance to me. Though all had short reddish hair, one was tall and flat-chested, the other short and plump, another too old and the last too young.
    I stood between them and listened to the murmur of the crowd.
    "The judges have made their call," a voice overhead said. "Contestant Number Three--I don't seem to have your name here--could you step forward?"
    The short, plump woman next to me gave me a poke in the side. When I glared at her, she said in a sulky voice, "He means you. You won."
    A man came toward me holding a small silver chalice and an envelope, and the other women filed off the dais.
    "Congratulations on winning the Serilda lookalike contest! Here's your prize," the man said, and handed me the chalice and envelope. He next spoke into his microphone: