"Welcome to Tangier, little sister." He held up a fish with the face of a dark-skinned man. "Here is Aban, the qehwaji, owner of the most popular teahouse in Tangier. And this is Lali Sol, great-aunt of the Sultan and maker of the finest embroidery in all of Morocco." Amaris Dahia looked into the sad eyes of a once-proud woman with the body of a fish. "This is the great-aunt of the Sultan?"
Cherki nodded.
"What of Kahtab, the chickpea vendor?" she asked in astonishment.
"We threw him back yesterday, answered Mhmd.
"You mean all of the people..."
"Enchanted," he interrupted."
"And we are going hungry," replied Cherki. "Not a single 'real' fish in the lot."
"But my father and mother.... I was supposed to meet them in Tangier."
"No one can enter the White City," said Cherki. "It is encircled by a whirlwind."