Pilar calls on her curse's power, then: she assembles six noble Malik out of the City of Brass for a revelry.

In Disguise of a cloaked male slave she goes to six residences and importunes their masters, telling them that a rare entertainment and challenge does await them.  Ignum, the language of Fire, has come to her tongue from somewhere, and she speaks fluently in the graces of Fire, saying, "O noble Malik of the Efreet."

There's a mortal girl who delights in pain as few mortals ever do, not a trained slave but a born one.  Let them do come and witness her dance, and if she fails to entertain then her life is forfeit.  Let them come and witness the dance of a born slave, and someday if that woman becomes a goddess they shall be able to brag that they saw her dance when she was mortal.  Tonight shall be born a legend of the City of Brass, though none of the six must speak a single word of these events for a year and a day (as is scarcely any time at all).

Pilar calls on her curse's power, then: she assembles six noble Malik out of the City of Brass for a revelry.

In Disguise of a cloaked male slave she goes to six residences and importunes their masters, telling them that a rare entertainment and challenge does await them.  Ignum, the language of Fire, has come to her tongue from somewhere, and she speaks fluently in the graces of Fire, saying, "O noble Malik of the Efreet."

There's a mortal girl who delights in pain as few mortals ever do, not a trained slave but a born one.  Let them do come and witness her dance, and if she fails to entertain then her life is forfeit.  Let them come and witness the dance of a born slave, and someday if that woman becomes a goddess they can brag that they saw her dance when she was mortal.  Tonight shall be born a legend of the City of Brass, though none of the six must speak a single word of these events for a year and a day (as is scarcely any time at all).

Pilar calls on her curse's power, then: she assembles six noble Malik out of the City of Brass for a revelry.

In Disguise of a cloaked male slave she goes to six residences and importunes their masters, telling them that a rare entertainment and challenge does await them.  Ignan, the language of Fire, has come to her tongue from somewhere, and she speaks fluently in the graces of Fire, saying, "O noble Malik of the Efreet."

There's a mortal girl who delights in pain as few mortals ever do, not a trained slave but a born one.  Let them do come and witness her dance, and if she fails to entertain then her life is forfeit.  Let them come and witness the dance of a born slave, and someday if that woman becomes a goddess they can brag that they saw her dance when she was mortal.  Tonight shall be born a legend of the City of Brass, though none of the six must speak a single word of these events for a year and a day (as is scarcely any time at all).