New Orleans Louisiana. Nice place, well as nice as any with the depression, thought Clary Fraser as she tugged the brim of her brown flat cap down over her wild red curls. She took in the paved streets and distinctly French-Creole style of the buildings with the wariness of someone who has traveled a long way and seen far to much in a short time. Well it was something; New Orleans seemed to be an amalgamation of European and American culture with a hint of something exotic in the air. Just a short time a go such a place would have seemed wondrous to her. Now it was frighteningly large and disconcertingly alien. Being a stranger in a strange place was bad enough on its own, but when you were alone and far from home it was a thousand times worse.

Clary sighed and tried to remember how she'd gotten here. A year ago she wouldn't have imagined it, not even when her father had said to her that it was time to look elsewhere for a place to live and work for him. They'd put all their money into a trip to America and now what had she to show for it? She and her father had been separated and now here she was with nothing but a threadbare carpetbag and her father's old clothes. Things hadn't gone right at all.

"Leave Scotland, come ta America and get rich quick. Good one Dad, good one..." she muttered. Taking a turn into a nearby alley.

John Fraser's life had started to go down hill when his wife died of tuberculosis in the small charity ward of a run down hospital. He'd left for the United States less than a month later, using up all of his savings to get them to New York only to find that there was no work. "We don't have enough jobs for our own kind much less foreigners, go away!" had been the message repeated to them over and over again; so they'd moved south. Somewhere along the way her Dad had gotten lost and she'd had to move on without him. Clary was so caught up in her memories that she nearly ran into a tall, slender Negro with a thin mustache and a top hat.

"Watch where your goin' boy!" he snapped at her. He squinted then tipped the brim of her hat up with the end of his cane. "Hang on there, you ain't no boy..." he scrutinized her with oddly violet colored eyes, small and a little on the scrawny side with a pale face and a mess of red hair, not a whole lot to look at but he could sense she was a troubled soul and he had quite a debt to pay to his friends...it had taken him some time to strike another deal with them.

Clary pushed the offending cane away and pulled her cap back in place. "I don't want no trouble from ye, I'm sorry." she said trying to maneuver around him.

The cane came swishing down in front of her, blocking her path. "Why there's no trouble chère," he gave her a gap-toothed smile that she could only describe as slimy "It's my fault really, I shoulda payed more attention to where I was going. Now I can tell that your new to this part of town and between you and me that accent of yours is a dead give away that you're a stranger to this fine city. Why don't you let Dr Facilier show you around?" he offered, his deep velvety voice oozing charm.

Clary took in his gaunt features, he didn't really look to be much better off than she was at the moment and she was quite certain that he was up to something. "No thanks, I'll be on my way now," she said.

"Now hang on there, I ain't gonna bite. Maybe there's somethin' I can do for you," he said handing her a card.

"Tarot readings...charms? Ye mean black magic and the like. The dark arts," Clary shoved the card back at him and quickened her pace. Dinna fool with black magic girlie, no good will come of it. Her father had warned her about all this, that there was nothing to be had from dabbling in unnatural things.

Facilier rolled his eyes, the superstitious ones were worse than the skeptics. Sensing that he was losing his customer he decided to pull out all the stops...

"Wait a minute darlin' now I ain't gonna hurt you or curse you or nothin'. You sure there ain't somethin' I can do for you...maybe someone I could find?" it was a shot in the dark but this kid screamed "little girl lost".

Clary froze, No, keep movin' girl there's nothin' here for ye, her sensible mind said to her. But she thought of her father, she needed to know...didn't she?

"Ye can do that?...Find people that is?" she asked fixing him with uncertain hazel eyes.

"Well yes and no, I can tell you if they're dead or alive and I can tell you if you'll see them again," Facillier grinned, the fish was back on the hook.

Clary frowned, would it really do her much good to know if he was alive if she didn't know where he was? "What's the catch?" she asked.

"Oh not much of a catch, I need an apprentice, someone who'll keep shop for me and run a few errands. Nothin' to difficult and you'll get a place to stay and some food," the truth of the matter was that no one trusted Facilier anymore and business was poorer than ever, but this wide-eyed little girl looked as honest as the day was long, she looked like some one you could trust. He could use someone like her to lure wayward souls to his Eporium and give them to his "Friends". She was just the kind of sucker he was looking for too: alone and broke. It was perfect.

Clary was still hesitant, a perfect stranger was offering her work in exchange for room and board. He seemed almost desperate, maybe she should pass up this opportunity and look for less suspicious work...

Sensing that he was losing her again Facilier stepped in front of her to keep her from going and made a last attempt to wheedle her into taking his offer, "Come on now ma chère, I can see you're down on your luck"

He had a point. Clary was basically homeless and she only had a few dollars in her pocket. Enough to buy a single meal, maybe two if she stretched it. She'd been stretching a lot lately; limiting herself to a single meal a day and sometimes going without. She made money running errands and doing odd jobs as they came to her so she had just enough money for travel and a bit of food. Black magic or not, a place to sleep that wasn't a train station or a ware house and the promise of regular meals was very appealing. He'd even offered to tell her if she'd see her father again. It was a most promising offer...

Facilier could see that she was on the verge of saying yes, her desperation was his best bargaining chip and it looked like he was going to win. His shadow was lurking behind her licking it's chops...

"Ye've got a deal. I'll run them errands for ye," Clary said after another moment of thought. She lifted her chin and looked him square in the face. "But I'll not be dealin' with any black magic...ye'll have ta do that yerself."

Facilier held out a dark, long fingered hand, "Alright then, now shake my hand and we've got ourselves a deal!"

Clary clasped his hand and was immediately shocked by how unpleasantly cold it was. The air seemed to pulse around her and out of the corner of her eye she could have sworn she saw a dancing shadow.

"Aw, what's wrong chère, You having second thoughts? To late now, this contract is binding..."

The witch doctor's cold laughter filled the air around her and Clary knew that in that instant she had sold her soul to the devil, There was no turning back for her. She could only wonder what was in store...