At Parker’s right hand and a step behind, a comely but normal enough looking girl in a somewhat generic junior college schoolgirl’s uniform—white with blue trim—padded along on bare feet.<br/><br/>As they moved off the subway tunnel’s beaten path and into the secure area, the girl’s fingers brushed the belt on her short skirt and the image fizzed out of existence, replaced by Amani’s true appearance.  Though the long waves of raven black hair were the same, the shapely young woman was now sapphire skinned.  Her top—now a gauzy, translucent silk—was little more than a bikini with some rose quartz beads.  Leggins replaced her skirt, though they were no more concealing.  Only a few strategically placed pieces of gold provided anything vaguely resembling modestly.<br/><br/>Despite looking like she belonged in a Hollywood harem rather than a dangerous tunnel, the girl did wear a substantial—and substantial enchanted—scimitar on her golden chain belt.<br/><br/>Though the emergency lighting was brighter than anything she could easily conjure, the djiniah still eyed any number of patches The djiniah nodded at Parker’s instructions.  “Yes, master.”<br/><br/>When she was done with her communication, Amani stepped up and touched Parker on the shoulder, then leaned around to kiss her gently on the lips, “May good fortune walk with you this night, master.”<br/><br/>To those who were sensitive to the presence of magic, Amani’s blessing seemed a soft red glow on Parker’s lips, subtle but detectable.<br/>