One Night at a Soul Auction

by Amy Cross

  The ground shudders as the wood crashes down right behind me, and I scream as I'm sent falling forward. At the same time, my face slams into the ground and I immediately start coughing as I get a load of dust in my mouth. Each cough causes the pain in my shoulder to get worse, but I can't even breathe and -

  Suddenly Duncan slams into me again from behind, snarling as he lands on my back. I instinctively try to swing the piece of wood at him, but I can't quite manage. Thick saliva dribbles onto the back of my neck as I struggle desperately, and then a moment later I feel Duncan's nose pressing against my injured shoulder. His teeth brush smoothly against the damaged skin, and I know that he's going to bite me again at any moment.

  My hand is pinned under one of his paws. I'm still holding the splintered wood, but I can't quite pull my hand free.

  “Duncan, it's me!” I shout, as another section of the roof collapses nearby. “You have to recognize me! You don't hate me! You want to help me! You always wanted to help me!”

  The only response is another loud snarl, as if he's getting ready to finish me off.

  “It's Milly!” I continue, hoping that maybe I can remind him of his human side. “You're Duncan, and I'm Milly. I met Matilda. You remember, don't you?”

  In his eyes, I see only hatred.

  “Matilda was nice,” I tell him. “I liked her.”

  Far above Duncan, the soul auction's roof has been almost completely burned away, although some sections remain.

  “You miss Matilda,” I continue, finally managing to slip my hand free and reposition the shard of wood. “She was your sister. You loved her and now she's gone. I'm sorry.”

  Is it working?

  He could have killed me by now.

  I have the piece of wood ready, I could stab it into his neck at any moment, but I'm starting to hope that I won't need to do anything so horrible.

  “We can't fight anymore,” I point out. “I can't fight anymore, Duncan. I'm too tired, and I'm hurt.”

  Still snarling, he tilts his head slightly.

  “And you're tired and hurt too,” I tell him, feeling the first flicker of hope. “You're sad because your sister died, but you've had your revenge. You've had more than revenge, you've destroyed the entire soul auction, but there's no-one else to be angry at. They've paid. They've all paid for what happened to Matilda.”

  The piece of wood is just inches from his neck now. I could stab him at any moment, but I really don't want to hurt him.

  “Duncan,” I continue, “I only -”

  Suddenly there's a loud crashing sound. I turn to see that another section of seating is coming down, crashing into a cloud of dust and flames. The ground shakes, and the tremor is enough to make me jerk my hand. The wooden spike pokes against Duncan's neck, causing him to briefly cry out. He steps back from me and I roll onto my side, and then I turn just as he starts snarling again.

  “I wasn't trying to hurt you!” I shout, as I see the broken piece of wood on the ground near his paws.

  I've lost my weapon.

  “That was an accident!” I yell, backing away as he starts pacing toward me. I look around, and I quickly find another, even sharper piece of shattered wood. “Duncan, I don't want to fight!”

  Hearing a creaking sound, I look up and see that the ceiling high above us has begun to tilt slightly, as if it's going to come crashing down at any moment. My first instinct is to run, but then I hear Duncan snarling again. Picking up the new piece of wood, I turn just as he starts coming closer.

  The ceiling is creaking louder and louder.

  “Don't do this,” I tell Duncan, with tears streaming down my eyes. “Please, don't try to fight me again. I don't want to hurt you, and I know you don't want to hurt me, so let's just -”

  Before I can finish, he lunges at me. I fall back. He lands on my chest and pushes me down against the ground. Screaming, I drive the broken piece of wood straight into the side of his neck. The ceiling breaks apart and comes crashing down toward us, trailing burning chunks of plaster and wood and fabric. I twist the wood in Duncan's neck, he snarls and then he opens his jaws wide and bites my face.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Today

  As the footsteps come toward the half-open door, I slide the knife down next to my leg, so that it won't be seen. Then, after taking another deep breath, I turn to look across the room just as a familiar figure appears in the doorway.

  “Ah, Duncan,” I say, with my hand still resting on the knife's handle. “Please, come in. I've been waiting a long time for this moment.”

  He steps into the room, with his dark gaze fixed upon me.

  “Oh,” I continue, trying to sound in some way surprised, “you are not Duncan. My great-niece said that -”

  “That girl is very pretty,” the Shan of Aluton sneers, as he reaches under his shabby coat and slowly slides out his own knife. “Perhaps I'll have some fun when I'm done with you, old woman. I might as well enjoy myself while I'm in the mortal world. After all, it took me a long time to get here, and the expense was considerable. You'll forgive me for giving a fake name at the door, but I wanted to ensure that you'd agree to see me.”

  “I'm sure you -”

  “I lost everything!” he snaps.

  “But -”

  “Everything!”

  Holding his knife up, he takes a couple more steps toward me.

  “That wolf destroyed my auction!” he continues. “I'd invested everything in that, I'd put my entire reputation on the line, and he ruined it! I lost all my treasures! All my riches! Everything!”

  “I know,” I reply. “I saw you that night. You were running away rather fast. Naked, as I recall.”

  “And you were with that wolf,” he points out, “so you're almost as much to blame! I might not be able to find him, but I can destroy every last one of his friends and associates. Eventually I'll track him down!”

  “I'm sure you will,” I tell him, adjusting my grip on the knife that I'm still keeping hidden.

  “You're the child who didn't kneel, aren't you?” he sneers. “Everyone else knelt that evening, but you stayed standing. I recognize that look in your eyes.”

  “I'm sorry,” I reply, “I just thought you looked rather silly.”

  “Do you know what it's like,” he continues, coming closer and closer until finally he's towering above me next to the window, “to be one of the richest and most powerful men in all the seven worlds, and then to have it all snatched away in the space of one night? I was born into one of the wealthiest families that ever existed, and I turned those riches into something even greater. There was nothing I couldn't have or get, no desire that could not be fulfilled, and my dynasty was set to go on and on. It would have done, too, if it hadn't all been brought crashing down during that one wretched night at the soul auction!”

  “I -”

  “On the night that should have been my greatest?” he roars.

  “I can't -”

  “BY A STUPID WOLF!” he shouts. “AND BY A CHILD!”

  “You don't seem to be taking it too well,” I reply timidly.

  “LOOK AT ME!” he screams, holding his arms out at his sides for a moment. “I'M A WRETCH! I'M A BUM! I HAD TO BEG AND STEAL JUST TO GET THIS SECOND-HAND COAT!”

  “I imagine,” I reply, “that when a very powerful man falls, he swiftly finds that he has many enemies who wish to take advantage of his misfortune.”

  “Don't get smart with me,” he sneers. “I've had to duck and dive, and dodge and weave, but I made it here. I crossed to your miserable mortal world just so I could track you down, old woman, and make you pay for your part in what happened! And you will pay, now that you've foolishly let me into your own home! I came all the way to the mortal world, just to make sure that you don't get away with what you did to me.”

  He lunges at me. I hold my knife up to stop him, but he manages to push my hand aside and send the knife clattering to the floor.

  Gasping, I pull back as he places t
he blade of his knife against my throat.

  “What are you waiting for?” I gasp.

  “In a hurry?” the Shan asks. “Do you want to die, you pathetic -”

  Suddenly he lets out a pained groan. I freeze, with the knife still at my throat, but then I dare look down and I see the bloodied tip of another knife poking out through the front of the Shan's coat. For a moment, I don't dare even to breathe, but then the bloodied tip twists around ninety degrees with a sickening crunch, and the Shan slithers down dead to the floor. Behind him, Duncan – the real Duncan – is standing with a slightly self-impressed smile on his face.

  “You shan't be hurting anyone else again, Shan,” he says, staring at the dead body before turning to me. “Did you -”

  “You've been waiting a long time to say that,” I reply, a little breathlessly. “I hope it was worth the wait.”

  “It wasn't bad. You could have laughed more.”

  I reach up and touch my throat, just to make absolutely certain that I'm not bleeding.

  “And you could have been a little quicker,” I continue. “Duncan, I don't mind telling you, there was a moment there when I thought he was going to do the deed.”

  “Nah,” Duncan replies, reaching down and pulling the knife out of the Shan's back. “I had it all under control. I told you when I arrived earlier, he had to become mortal in order to cross into the mortal world. He thought it was going to be just a quick day-trip to get his revenge. I suppose it was all he could think about. Arrogance and confidence got him in the end.”

  “And the body -”

  “The body will magically return to the fifth world,” he explains, “after just a few -”

  Before he can finish, the Shan's body does indeed fade from view. Even the blood stains on the carpet are gone, which is quite the relief since I was wondering how I might explain all of this to my great-niece.

  “I'm sorry I can't stay longer,” Duncan says, as he slides his knife back into its sheath. “It was nice having dinner with you earlier, but -”

  “I fully understand,” I reply, interrupting him. “You must be very busy.”

  “I did go to see Courtaud,” he continues. “He wasn't much help, but eventually he stopped throwing stones at me long enough for me to explain what I needed. He told me to go and move a small hillock as penance. I did that, but I didn't particularly feel as if I'd been redeemed. I went back and he told me to remove another, and then the same thing happened several times until I realized he was really just trying to get rid of me. He's quite a loner these days. Anyway, to cut a long story short, I'm currently trying to help a friend who's looking for her missing son. She's visiting the Grandapam Royal Barge at the moment to check out a lead, but she'll be back soon and then we're off back to the library to see a dog about a man. And then -”

  “Did you bury your sister?”

  “And then we might have to climb this huge beanstalk that I -”

  “Did you bury your sister, Duncan?”

  He pauses for a moment.

  “I did,” he says finally. “I gave her a nice, neat grave on a beautiful hillside. Very tranquil. Very serene. Very respectful. She'd hate it.”

  “Go to your friend,” I reply. “I'm quite alright here. I'm rather old these days, in case you hadn't noticed, and your visit has been rather exciting. I think I shall have to rest all of tomorrow in order to recover. This old body of mine is not what it once was, even if my mind feels exactly the same.”

  “You don't want to go on one more adventure?” he asks.

  “More than you can imagine,” I tell him, “but -”

  “We could take a boat to Papyr,” he continues, with enviable enthusiasm, “or we could borrow a Silver Walker and try to ascent to the bottom of Mount Jho. It's an upside-down mountain that used to be part of a moon. Of course, people keep expecting it to topple over, and it's guarded by a race of fire-breathing giant ants, but -”

  “That all sounds like fun,” I say, interrupting him, “but I'm in no fit state to be climbing any mountain. Not with these knees.” I can't help smiling. “But I'm quite sure that you'll go and do all those things, Duncan, and it's nice to know that you'll be out there somewhere. I often wonder what you're up to, and occasionally I think I spot mentions of you in the newspapers.”

  “Maybe,” he mutters. “Maybe...”

  He turns to go, but then he stops. He seems confused for a moment, as if he's forgotten something.

  “Oh,” he says finally, reaching into his pocket, “I almost forgot. I believe you were looking for this.”

  He pulls out a tattered, torn and rather filthy doll.

  “Lucy!” I exclaim, instinctively leaning forward and taking her from his hands. “Is it really her?”

  “I tracked her down eventually,” he explains. “It wasn't easy. She's actually been on some adventures of her own over the past few decades, handed around and traded and bought and sold and inducted into several -”

  “I forgot about her,” I say, looking up at him. “I mean, at first. Later, when I was almost home, I remembered her, but by then I thought it was too late to go back and search for her. Too late and too silly. I mean, I was feeling rather grown up by then, and I certainly wasn't going to turn around and retrace my steps just to find a silly little doll.” I look back down at Lucy, and for a moment I remember what it was like to be a little girl. “It is very good, though,” I continue, “to see her again. Another old friend.”

  Hearing a creaking floorboard, I turn and see that Duncan is already out the door.

  “If I don't see you again,” I call after him, “before I die, then... Goodbye, Duncan. And thank you.”

  He turns back to me, and for a moment I see great sadness in his eyes. I suppose that in all his magnificent adventures, he doesn't often face the loss of people. My mortal lifespan must seem so very flimsy to him. In fact, I'm a little surprised that he even remembered about me, since he must have so many grand adventures. I'm certainly extremely touched that he came all the way back to see me tonight, and that he went to all the trouble of finding my old doll.

  “From the bottom of my heart,” I continue, “thank you for everything.”

  “I should probably tell you,” he says cautiously, “that...”

  His voice trails off for a moment.

  “Well,” he adds, “it's just that you...”

  He pauses.

  “I mean, I...”

  He sighs.

  “It's difficult to explain,” he says, “but...”

  He pauses again, and then he shrugs.

  “Never mind,” he mutters, and then he steps out of view. “You're right. I should just get going.”

  “Well,” I say, looking down at Lucy again, “I did find you, didn't I? It might have taken longer than I expected, but here we are.”

  Reaching over, I set her on the table, and I take a moment to prop her up so that she looks comfortable.

  “It's all so very difficult to believe,” I continue, leaning back in the chair and looking out at the lights of the city, “but it did happen. I still remember it all. Perhaps I should write it down some day, although I doubt that anyone will believe me. I know it was all real, though. I was there. I wasn't old, though, not like I am now. I was young. So young, I thought I could survive anything. And I did, I suppose. I survived a trip to a whole other world. With a little help, of course.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  85 years ago

  Birds.

  I can hear birds.

  Opening my eyes, I see a bright, sunny sky. For a moment I have no idea where I am or how I got here, but then I spot a broken wooden beam protruding into my field of vision on the left-hand side. There's a tattered piece of fabric stuck to the wood, fluttering high above in a gentle breeze.

  A bird flies across the sky.

  Wait.

  There were flames, and I was screaming, and Duncan...

  “Duncan!”

  Gasping, I start to sit up. I imm
ediately feeling a cracking pain in my chest, and I gasp again as I roll onto my side. Propping myself up on one elbow, I see that the entire soul auction arena has been destroyed, leaving behind nothing except a few leaning walls and vast amounts of charred wood. There's still quite a lot of dust in the air, but apart from that the whole place looks strangely calm.

  And then someone coughs nearby.

  Startled, I turn and see a figure sitting hunched on the ground, wearing some kind of gray robe. Before I can react, the figure turns to look at me, and I see Duncan's human face staring at me. He's got a few cuts and bruises, and he seems a little breathless, but apart from that he looks to be back to normal.

  Whatever his version of normal might be.

  “What happened?” I ask, before looking around. Spotting no sign of anyone else, I turn back to him. “The wolf... That was you, wasn't it?”

  “It was,” he replies, his voice sounding tired and scratched. “A long time ago. I didn't think it would ever happen again, but...”

  He hesitates for a moment.

  “But apparently,” he continues finally, “I was wrong.”

  Staring at him, I watch for any sign that his earlier anger might return; that he might suddenly turn into a wolf and attack me again. And then, remembering how badly he hurt me, I look down at my arms and see that I'm covered in scratches. The worst of my wounds are gone, however. My shoulder works fine, and my foot is more or less healed.

  “I fixed you up a little,” Duncan says. “It was the least I could do.”

  He turns, showing me a bloodied patch on the side of his neck.

  “I even had a little left over to heal myself,” he continues. “Not entirely, though. That'll take a while. You're pretty handy with a pointy stick, Milly. Much more handy than I ever would have expected.” He pauses again, eyeing me with a hint of concern. “Which is good,” he adds, “because otherwise I would have ripped you apart. I killed so many people here at the soul auction last night, Milly. I tore through the place like a maniac. A lot of them ran, but a lot of them weren't fast enough. The Shan of Aluton got away, but I think I proved my point. It'll be a long, long time before anyone dares hold a soul auction in this neck of the woods.”