Khol lined eyes stared back at Marilla through the burka when her glance lingered a touch too long. It was the sort of behaviour she continually upbraided the boys for, but there was something so mysterious about these hidden women.

Back in Melbourne they had received orders to sail back to London but were excited to hear that the long-awaited Suez Canal had finally opened, and they would be sailing that way instead of back around Africa or more laboriously across the Pacific. "It's fantastic, Mar," John had explained. "Modern engineering has solved a colossal problem. Think of the weeks sailing that will be saved."

"I expect the French will impose a weighty imposition upon our passage," Marilla mused thoughtfully.

"No matter, the company is prepared to pay. This will bring their cargo to them that much faster, so they've deemed it worthwhile. I'm pretty excited, Mar. It is one of the engineering marvels of the century. Look at the map here." John pointed out their route, across the Indian Ocean to the coast of Africa and then up the Gulf of Aden and then into the Red Sea. "We'll be stopping in Tunis," John explained. "After we traverse the Canal."

As it turned out the passage through the canal was tedium itself. First there was the queuing, masses of ships had decided to take the opportunity to save time. Then they were assigned a tug and towed along the unnaturally straight strait. John realised soon enough that what he most enjoyed about being a sea captain was the countless decisions he made each day regarding sail craft and without these, life was dull. The passage only took a day, but it was not one anyone longed to repeat. Even the excitement of seeing land on soon waned when it became apparent there was nothing but a flat expanse of desert on either side. "Never mind, darling," Marilla said. "Just think we'll get through this and be up to London in record time."

"Yes, yes I know. It is marvellous," replied John. "Just not very exciting." The crew were bored too, while it sounded wonderful to have the day off, time lagged when there were no diversions. They tried calling out to the ships fore and aft but no one spoke English. Thankfully after sixteen hours or so they were let loose from the tug and the Port Said obelisks disappeared into their wake. John thrilled to see the wind catch their sails and they were off.

Neat piles of ground cardamom, chilli, turmeric, cinnamon and saffron spiced the air. Camels added their own aroma their saddle bells jingling and tassels swaying in time with their stride. Mari watched as they folded themselves into large heaps in a display somehow both graceful and awkward. Heat beat down relentlessly and she felt a little faint under her scarf, wondering how anyone could exist in such oppressive conditions.

Spices in shades of red Mari never knew existed caught her attention and she smiled at the recollection of Jacob's indignation when he found out that the Red Sea was just regular blue. Gilbert had played a trick on the boys earlier in the voyage saying the sea was called red because the water was. She'd diverted Jacob by sitting with him and devising all the tricks they could play on Gilbert in return.

Sensing her attention had strayed a gaggle of urchins descended, their grubby little hands plucking at her clothes seeking out unknown orifices for coins, calling "me, me, me." Mari staggered a little then sank to the ground under their combined weight.

Haggling over a bolt of material a couple of stalls away Marilla was surprised when the man she was dealing with shot a sharp glance over her shoulder; until then he had been engrossed in their exchange. He was keen to get the deal done before the afternoon prayers, expecting the muezzin would be sending out the call any time now. Turning she was intrigued to hear the dull murmurs of the crowd rise in pitch as they bent over something. Well it was nothing to do with her though she looked around for Mari, wondering where the girl had gotten to.

An old crone grabbed Marilla's hand with her own lined one adjusting her scarf as she did so and pulled her over to the crowd which parted reluctantly as she approached. "Mari," Marilla knelt down by the girl as she lay on the dusty ground. "Are you hurt?" Mari had her eyes tightly closed and her hands protectively over her face. "Mari, it's me, it's Marilla. Come now they've gone away." Marilla looked over her shoulder and waved them off; the onlookers backed away imperceptibly, inching closer the moment her back was turned.

Just as the first call to prayer sounded over the bazaar salvation arrived with the local matriarch who turned up with one or two helpers. Without a word the crowd dispersed to let her through, her authority absolute. Two women picked Mari up, one holding her shoulders the other her legs and together they made their way to a nearby door. Marilla tried to intervene, warnings of Barbary slavers coursing through her mind, but the Matriarch simply took her hand and led her through the street.

Isaiah and Gilbert saw the masses surround Mari but were unable to get close, they watched in dismay as Marilla and Mari were taken through an ornate door and looked at each other as it banged shut. "Let's get help," said Isaiah when Gilbert's attempts to open the door failed. "Your father will know what to do."

All sounds of the street beyond vanished in an instant and Marilla paused to look at the courtyard before them. A long pool of water lay surrounded by turquoise tiles in an intricate pattern repeated over and over, on both walls cool water dripped down carved fountains. It was a blessedly cool and relaxing space after the tumult of the bazaar. Still she had no time to linger, she had to look after Mari.

They had laid the stricken girl down on a nearby bed and set about divesting her of her outer clothes. Fearing the worst Marilla intervened but with low murmurs they pushed her back. Another pressed her down onto a low couch and removed her scarf. She looked on amazed as they too removed their drab all-encompassing outer wear to reveal sumptuous and colourful attire. From a hidden door a servant arrived bearing a silver tray with cool drinks, summoned by what means Marilla could not ascertain. The servant offered her a goblet and she took it fervently praying they would be safe; she was still unsure whether these people were saviours or sinners.

Pausing, she waited until her host had drunk then she gestured that Marilla should do likewise. Mollified Marilla took a sip and was amazed at the most delicious flavour that danced upon her tongue. Having felt somewhat overwhelmed by the situation herself, she felt immediately better and drank some more somewhat past caring what else may come, feeling that nothing bad could come from such a delicious elixir. A curious languor descended, when Marilla felt her eyes grow heavier she lay back across the cushions as sleep overcame her.

The Madame watched dispassionately as first one then the other goblet slipped from long white unconscious fingers and splashed their contents to the tiled floor with a tinny clunk. A long smear of sticky liquid formed when her prizes were dragged away. She sat thinking as she watched the door slam behind them; her clients were strange, what they saw in these ugly pale women she had no idea. Still so long as they paid what did it matter? The older woman wasn't worth much, though she might make a passable kitchen slave, but the girl would be worth a fortune.

Anne woke especially early and lay in her bed unable to get back to sleep. Deciding she'd rather face Rachel's wrath later in the day silently she got dressed and tip-toed outside. She had been too busy the night before to pay a visit to Green Gables and she hated to disappoint Matthew and Goliath.

Her dreams had been dashed upon arrival in Avonlea, but Anne had carved out a life for herself that more or less approximated happiness. Sometimes she reflected back on her decision; it was true to say that her impetuousness had got her into this mess. Perhaps if she had given Mrs Blythe a bit of notice something better might have been arranged, but Anne had never been one to think things through, rather she took opportunities where they arose.

In any case so long as she was able to visit Green Gables and give Goliath a hug each day, she was mostly content. The little monkey never hesitated to greet her with a loud hoot rushing from Matthew to her so as to inspect her pockets for treats. Peanuts were a favourite, but he rarely received those; he was also partial to an apple which he gnawed on with his tiny sharp white teeth. Sweetcorn was another delight, he would hold a cob in his hands and run his teeth along the rows gnawing them off neatly. She remembered watching him unpeeling a banana, fastidiously removing the stringy bits before he stuffed his cheeks with the sweat fruit. Sadly, there were no bananas to be had on PEI but Anne loved to tell Matthew all about it, puffing up her own cheeks when she shared the story. Matthew told her how much Goliath adored preserves and sometimes Anne brought up an old jam jar. The sight of his tiny pink tongue stretching out as far as it could to capture the last smear never failed to amuse her, as did his look of profound annoyance when something was out of reach no matter how far he poked his finger in. If she were feeling a little sad about life, his antics never failed to improve her mood.

Anne had made a few friends at school. Diana Barry lived nearby, while quiet she proved to be a stalwart friend though she never really came to terms with the monkey. The other girls found Anne to be a rather eccentric classmate, but they tolerated her easily enough. Though they thought she had to be exaggerating when she regaled them with tales of her exploits on the high seas.

She had longed for school believing she would adore acquainting herself with all the knowledge that could be found but reality was less exciting. Anne really required an energetic teacher to nurture her love of words, but the Avonlea teacher was due to retire and only stayed on because he needed the money. Anne Shirley only reminded him how old he was, and he rather resented the fact that she was full of questions. He had hoped to slide into retirement without being pushed and this annoyance was not helping. He did his best to deflect her incessant questions as she probed him during his insipid lessons.

The first thing Marilla noticed when she roused was that the couch was uncomfortable, it was this that alerted her to the fact that she had been moved. Mari lay on a bench across the room and with a shock she realised the girl was naked. Glancing down Marilla noticed she was as well. What had been done to them? The drug still coursed through her system as she found herself stumbling onto the cold tiles. She crawled across, realising halfway as the floor yawed beneath her that the distance was beyond her abilities at present.

"What is it boy? What's up Isaiah? Where are they?" John's voice grew increasingly strident as they struggled to answer with little breath. He staggered when they told him what had happened.

The agent shrugged, "if they were foolish enough to go out unchaperoned..." he trailed off threateningly. The police were no use either. The last thing the chief wanted to do was get embroiled in a turf war with the brothel madams. He knew where his next meal was coming from, it was not worth his while getting involved; Europeans went missing all the time. John yelled at him to do something but the man refused to budge. Exiting the building someone thrust a grubby slip of paper with a name scrawled upon it into John's hands. The agent knew who it was and said, "you might be in luck. It'll cost you though."

Marilla joined John on deck hoping the fresh air would blow the last vestiges of the drug from her head, "so how much am I worth? she asked conversationally.

"Ten camels," replied John as he wrapped his arms around her, the memory of the two women huddled on a filthy bed in a windowless cell flashed before his eyes.

"Camels?"

"Yes, that's how women are priced," John frowned. "But you weren't the problem," he added meaningfully. "It was Mari."

Marilla looked back at him in shock and with no warning vomited down his shirt front.