"Let me go, and when I become City Lord, every coin I earn is yours!"
Wood squeezed out of the carriage window, eyes shut tight, and shouted to Femi on the bank.
Femi planted a foot on the wheel. "Brothers, we can't go back empty-handed. Not a single Gold Narl? That wouldn't be right, would it?"
Wood's cheeks wobbled as he shook his head. "Wouldn't be right."
"And it wouldn't be right for you to lose your life just because you saw my face, would it?"
"Even less right."
Femi bent down and patted him. "What's your name?"
"Tommy!"
"Tommy, I'll be City Lord, and you can stay on as my adviser. We'll go to Sworn City and make a fortune!"
"Cut!"
Annan watched with satisfaction as Femi pulled Wood out of the pit.
Not bad. Betty's intensive training had worked. Femi no longer seemed so tense; he had the loose, irreverent air of a wandering Ranger from a bard's tale.
The young people gathered around them breathed a sigh of relief. They were freshmen in the Academy's Magic Film Department. Annan only made Magic Films about his homeland, and the Bert Brothers couldn't adapt every classic on the Allen Continent. Better to train more directors and have them make money for himsel— for Free City.
Of them all, Annan had the highest hopes for Henry: the actor his former boss had sent to steal the secrets of Magic Film, who had then chosen to join Free City.
Henry had been ready to sacrifice himself when he informed on his boss. As stage plays always showed, a spy sent out by one master could betray him and still never earn the trust of a new one.
He had resigned himself to a marginal role, perhaps even life as an ordinary