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There's a thing the jenti do that's called the Rustle. It's nothing you can really hear. But if you hang around them long enough, you can tell when it's happening. It's a way they have of telling each other something is changing. Asking, "Have you noticed?" and "What do you think about it?" without ever moving their lips. Jenti may act as though they couldn't care less what's going on, but they always know when something is. And Turk was something to Rustle about. As soon as she pulled up in her little black Volksbug and parked in a slot that was big enough for a stretch limo, and the four of us got out, it started. New kid, coming in with Ileana (the Princess) Antonescu, and Cody (the Original Gadje) Elliott, and Justin (World's First Swimming Jenti) Warrener, and who does she think she is, one of us? And if she doesn't, what does she think she is? It was a fair question. Turk had decked herself out in black leather, even though the day was hot, and from her ears and around her neck dangled shards of mirror that flashed and glittered every time she moved. She wore the jewel Ileana had given her hanging on her forehead, and on her neck she'd drawn two black dots and written the words Open Here.