by E. A. Copen
More hairless cat people in suits stood around stiffly near the displays, hands clasped in front of them. The fifty or so other folks mingling in the room didn’t seem to care or notice all the security. And why not? They seemed like the types who were used to it. There were enough diamonds in the crowd to turn heads at a diamond store. Gold, too. The one metal I didn’t spy was silver, which I supposed made sense. Lots of supernatural bad guys don’t like silver.
The ladies moved about the room in dresses ranging from scandalously short to poufy ballgowns, the men in suits that somehow didn’t seem any less interesting. One couple admiring the glass case nearest to me was all decked out in outfits of green peacock feathers. On the other side of them stood a woman in an ice blue dress with a short train. Frost followed her every step. Near the center of the room, a shirtless blond guy reclined on a sofa, making out with a pretty brunette. He almost looked normal until I drifted too close and noticed the black feather wings twitching on his back, and that the brunette was much thinner than she’d initially appeared, little more than skin and bones. The blonde guy raised a flute of champagne to me as if toasting, but I had a feeling he wasn’t drinking any bubbly and the glass was more for appearances.
“You’re late, necromancer.”
I turned my head and found Osric perched in an empty recess, tossing one of his signature daggers and catching it. “Osric,” I offered with a smile that hurt my teeth, “I was wondering when I’d run into you again.”
“I’m surprised you survived the night. I heard what happened.” He did a backflip out of the recess and landed on one knee before he stood and dusted off the flawless blacker than black suit.
“I’m tougher than I look.”
I expected a snappy comeback, but he shrugged and adjusted his suit. “You can take a hit. I’ll give you that.” His eyes swept the room like a spider watching flies. It was downright creepy.
“Any sign of the queen’s magic box?” I asked, deciding it was better if we moved along and perused some of the items.
“I’m not the one she hired to look for it.”
I frowned at Osric’s smirk, but something else quickly tore my attention away. In the glass case next to us sat a scroll case made of jade and adorned with gold. A tiny plaque leaning against the front of the glass read:
ONE OF THE FIVE JADE SCROLLS IN HEAVEN.
“Is that what I think it is?” I whispered to Osric.
He gave the scroll a cursory glance and shrugged. “Probably.”
My Daoist mythology was a little rusty, but I was pretty sure those Jade Scrolls were said to be responsible for creating and maintaining the balance in the divine universe. If the wrong person got their hands on that…
But the Jade Scroll wasn’t even the scariest thing up for grabs at this auction. On our stroll through the gallery, I saw a Philosopher’s Stone, a vial of ambrosia, and a scrap of cloth claiming to be the Veil of Veronica. There was no sign of Nyx’s sheut box anywhere though.
As Osric and I finished our walk around the gallery, I noticed a few people break off from their groups and head down another hallway, this one lined with ivory columns. I decided to follow them, and Osric didn’t stop me. Guess he preferred to take a back seat to the investigation, which was fine with me. Two heads weren’t always better than one.
The secondary hallway flowed into a round room with more merchandise, except this merchandise had been piled in groups behind a velvet rope instead of behind glass. These were apparently the less valuable items, but they still warranted a heavy presence from the cat shifter security.
I scanned the room and stopped when my eyes fell on a familiar face. On the other side of the room, standing on her tiptoes and leaning as close as she dared to the velvet rope, was Beth. She’d put on a black evening gown with white teardrop trim and donned a pair of heels that would have reminded me how nice her legs were if I weren’t so shocked to see her.
“What the hell is she doing here?” I growled under my breath.
Osric, who’d been watching someone else in the room, snapped his head toward Beth. “Who?”
I didn’t answer, instead storming through the crowd straight for her.
She stood up on her tiptoes again, an impressive feat considering the heels, and squinted at the lot of items in front of her. When she leaned forward just a little more, she lost her balance and would’ve fallen flat on her face if I hadn’t grabbed her elbow and whirled her around to face me.
Beth blinked in surprise. “Lazarus? What are you doing here?”
“I should ask you the same thing. Do you even know where you are?” People were starting to stare, so I lowered my voice with the next question. “How’d you even find out about this?”
She adjusted her glasses and clutched the notebook she carried tighter to her chest, lifting her chin slightly. “When you refused to help me, I had to take matters into my own hands.”
Matters? Dammit, she meant the sheut box. Both she and Osric were looking for the same box. If he caught wind of that, things wouldn’t end well.
“Who’s the babe?” Osric asked, suddenly beside me.
Beth’s face muscles slackened, and her eyes widened.
I turned and snarled at Osric, “Off limits.”
He raised his arms in surrender and took a step back.
“Come on.” I grabbed Beth’s arm again and dragged her a few steps toward the exit. “Let’s get you out of here before there’s trouble.”
“Lazarus, stop. Lazarus!” She suddenly dug her heels into the stone floor and jerked her arm free. When I turned around, she crossed her arms and stuck out her bottom lip. “I’m not leaving until I get what I’ve come for.”
“Beth, that box isn’t what you think. None of this stuff is.” I gestured to the room at large. “And no one here is either. Just showing your face here is putting you in more danger than you realize.”
“So typical of you. Overprotective and possessive one minute, cold and dismissive the next.” She rolled her shoulders. “I’m not yours to protect, Laz. Not anymore. Unless you plan to drag me out of here kicking and screaming, I’m not going anywhere.”
I huffed and took a step toward her.
“And if you try,” she said, holding up a finger, “I’ll scream.”
Normally, that wouldn’t be much of a threat, but as I glanced around and counted the number of people with claws in the room and that number reached the double digits, my chances of forcing her to go anywhere dwindled.
Before our argument could continue, the room chilled noticeably. I looked around for the source and found I was standing in a huge puddle of shadow, but there wasn’t anything in the room large enough to cast such a shadow, especially not with as many lights as there were. The shadow moved, swelling and bubbling at the center until a human head popped out followed by shoulders.
Beth let out a shriek of surprise and took a step back as the rest of the man ascended from the shadow. His features were long and pointed, but very human. All except for the glowing part. I’d never seen a human glow.
As he came out of the floor, he flashed me a grin that was all teeth. A cold chill pumped through me as I realized I’d seen that same grin the night before outside the morgue. If this guy wasn’t one of the shadow gods I’d fought the previous night, I was a monkey’s uncle. More than that, this asshole had a tattoo on his right hand, the image that of a skinny dog-like creature with big ears. A jackal.
The crowd around us erupted in applause and cheers at the god’s entrance, and he bowed, graciously accepting their praise. “Welcome, patrons!” he announced, throwing his arms up. “Young and old, great and small, Fade Tumu’s Black Bazaar cares not so long as the price is right.”
A low chuckle moved through the crowd in a wave.
Fade, the god whose real name surely wasn’t Fade, grinned wider and strolled past me. “Put away your wallets, friends. Your gold and green are no good here. There is but one currency that matters at the Black Bazaar.�
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He stopped next to a red velvet curtain and tugged a rope to lift it. Behind the curtain was an empty fish tank. Or at least, it looked empty. Everyone around me fumbled to slide on their cheap sunglasses, oohing and ahhing once they got them on. I didn’t bother sliding on my sunglasses. Maybe I’d get a better look at whatever was in that tank with my Soul Vision. I activated it with a blink and a little will, and then bit my tongue.
Dancing inside the fish tank were hundreds of glowing white orbs. “Souls,” I whispered, more to myself than anyone else. “They’re buying and selling with human souls.”
Chapter Sixteen
People were cooing at Fade’s collection of souls when I grabbed Beth again and headed straight for the door. She sputtered something about collections, museums, and other stuff I didn’t fully comprehend, but it didn’t matter. Whatever it was she wanted to get for the museum wasn’t worth her soul.
We’d almost reached the hallway leading to the first room when Osric caught up with us, falling in step beside me without even sounding winded, the jerk. “Found it,” he announced. “It’s part of lot forty-two. Most of the rest of the lot is utter junk, but there’s no doubt Her Majesty’s box is in there.”
“Don’t care,” I huffed and booked it even harder for the exit.
Osric swung around in front of me, blocking my path, his eyes practically on fire. “You have an agreement with my queen.”
I leaned in close enough that my nose was almost touching his. “And I intend to make good on it just as soon as I get her out of here.”
“Surely, you weren’t thinking of leaving so soon?” Fade said from the front of the room.
I was suddenly aware of many pairs of eyes on me, and the stillness in the room. Everyone had turned to stare at our exchange. Dammit. So much for a clean getaway.
Fade slid away from his place next to the soul tank, clasping his hands together. “My, my! The Knight of Shadow, the Pale Horseman, and a poor little lost mortal.” He made a sound that fell halfway between tsking and slurping. “Now, what brings such a trio to my humble bazaar, I wonder? Why, it’s been some time since the Shadow Queen has graced us with her attendance. Had I known her blade was making an appearance, I’d have put on my dark suit.” Fade gestured to his charcoal gray suit as several nervous chuckles arose behind him.
Those who weren’t laughing alongside Fade had turned on us with a new spark of interest. Or hunger, I couldn’t tell which. Maybe both.
I turned the Soul Vision back on and gave the crowd another pass. There were fae souls in the crowd. I picked out their green souls with ease. One or two more gods were also in attendance as well, but the bulk of the attendees staring at us with malice had insides as black as they came. Soulless. No wonder they considered human souls such a commodity.
Maybe I could take the gods and the fae, but I’d be no match for all the soulless beasts in that crowd. We were better off playing nice until I could think of a way to get us out. I glanced at Osric who had put on a snake’s smile. He seemed to have some clout. We might be able to use that to get us out of this mess.
“Are you with us on court business?” Fade asked, addressing Osric.
“Yes,” Osric said firmly. “You have something of interest to my queen, something that doesn’t belong to you. I’m here to retrieve it for my queen.”
Fade’s eyes widened and something sparkled in the deep blackness of them, something very other. “Are you accusing me of selling ill-gotten goods, Sir Knight? I hope you have proof. Without signed documents or evidence, I’m afraid there’s naught I can do. You see, the very rules of the Black Bazaar prohibit any item from leaving this place unless its price has been paid. Unless you are willing to stake your own soul on whatever accusation you’re about to make, I would tread carefully.”
Osric’s smile sent chills down my spine, which was a feat. “I make no accusations. Only a declaration. My queen always gets what’s hers. Always.”
“Well then,” Fade said with a grin of his own, “let’s get the auction started!” He turned away as everyone else started clapping and marched toward a small alcove that turned into a doorway at his approach.
Beth tried to pull away, but I held her arm tight. “Oh, no, you don’t. I’m not letting you out of my sight until we’re out of all this.”
Everyone else was filing through the new doorway, so Beth and I had to either follow or risk looking weird and drawing more attention from the security. With Beth’s arm in mine, and Osric behind us, we followed the crowd.
“Pale Horseman?” Beth said, leaning in close.
“Long story. One I’d like to live to tell.”
She slowed to glance behind us at Osric. “And who’s he again? The Shadow Knight?”
“Him?” I followed her gaze over my shoulder to the shadowy man walking casually behind us, as if this were a stroll through a market on a sunny day and not the Black Bazaar. “He’s an asshole.”
“Sir Asshole, if you don’t mind,” Osric said with a flourish and a bow. “I am a knight in Her Majesty's service, after all.”
Somehow, that flourish knocked me out of the way and freed Beth’s hand so he could take it and kiss it. I wasn’t sure how that happened, but I didn’t like it. Osric could put the moves on any girl he wanted except for Beth. Not that I had any plans for us to get back together, mind you. There’s just an unspoken rule between male co-workers. You don’t date your co-worker’s ex. You just didn’t.
A hammer tapped lightly on something wooden behind me, and I turned. I’d gotten so distracted by Osric’s antics that I’d totally forgotten where I was and what I was doing. The auction room was a small cavern, far too small to contain all the bodies crammed into it. Old church pews lined the walls and stood in rows, each one full to bursting. We’d lost our chance at a seat.
Fade was apparently going to fulfill the duties of the auctioneer, though. He stood in the front of the room at a podium, a tiny little hammer between two fingers. “Our first lot is a special surprise, something too…unusual to put out on the showroom floor. Nevertheless, I think you’ll all be interested.”
As the voices in the tiny room quieted, a new sound replaced them, the sound of music pumped through a tiny mobile pipe organ.
No way. It can’t be.
A moment later, an organ grinder wandered onto the stage, somehow pushing his cart and keeping the music going at the same time. And it was. It was the exact same organ grinder I’d encountered the day before on the street, except he’d lost a considerable amount of weight. His clothes were caked in sweat, and dark circles encompassed his eyes.
As his song reached its climax, the doors to the cart burst open and the same creepy-ass baboon from the first time came jumping out, offering his hat for change. The reaction from the crowd was a mix of laughter, shock, and confusion.
“I assure you this is no ordinary organ grinder,” Fade said. “Nor is this an ordinary instrument. The music box dates to the early Middle Ages. Any mortal who touches the organ will quickly find himself a victim of its magic, utterly unable to stop. For centuries, the music box has been used as a form of punishment, as vengeance, and now for entertainment.”
The baboon clapped its hands loudly and spun, transforming mid-spin into a man with similar features to Fade. The crowd cheered, and the monkey man took a bow.
“We’ll start the bidding at twenty years. Do I have twenty years?”
“Years?” I frowned at Osric. “I thought souls were the currency here?”
“Years of servitude,” Osric whispered back, dipping his head. “Souls would all have the same value with only slight variances, and so the system works in years. One sells his soul for a period—or the soul of one in his possession—and gains something in return. A god may sell his worshippers, priests, or any who serve, making his pool of resources difficult to overcome. Therefore, the ultimate prize would be to get a god to bet his or her own soul.”
I glanced around. I’d only counted a handful
of gods in attendance. “What about fae?”
He winced as if the question were painful. “A fae monarch owns a number of souls by default, namely those souls of his or her court. But they also own a limited number of human souls as well. And anyone can pledge years of their life in service in exchange for a boon, though I would caution against that. Such deals rarely turn out well for the human in question.”
Something about the way he said it made me turn to study Osric’s face. There was an expression there that I hadn’t seen before, one that might’ve been sadness, regret, or it could’ve just been indigestion for all I knew. I didn’t know the guy well enough to read all his facial expressions.
But he’d said something interesting, something that made me rethink a lot of what I thought I knew. The Baron had taken Vesta’s soul when I pulled it out of her. Initially, I thought that was because he was supposed to. I mean, I sure as hell didn’t know what to do with a god’s disembodied soul. What if he’d used it to solidify his power base in some way? What if Vesta’s soul was sitting in some kind of soul tank just like Fade’s?
What if Lydia’s was, too?’
I shook my head. I couldn’t afford to get distracted by that now. The power and value of the soul was something I’d have to work out later, much later when I was somewhere safe.
“What about me?” I asked.
“You mean is your soul worth anything?” Osric shrugged. “You might be the Pale Horseman, but your soul is still human. However, anyone in this room would be happy to get you to pledge years of servitude to them.”
“Why?” Beth asked. She said it loud enough that someone turned around and shushed her. “Why?” she repeated in a whisper.
“Because a Horseman can remove the souls of gods,” Osric explained. “Or anyone for that matter. It’d be like owning your own money tree. You could just go out and get more anytime you were running low.”
I gulped. No way was I pledging any of my time to anyone. Nothing was worth that. No one in that room would have any benevolent plans for my soul removal abilities, that much was sure. I’d have to lie low through this auction and keep from betting anything.
