Shadowed (Book Two of the Hollow City Coven Series): A Witch and Warlock Romance Novel

by Hazel Hunter

  The Sirena glided silently forward, guided by some unseen current. But just when Gillian thought she might go mad in the interminable darkness, the tunnel opened into a crescent-shaped bay. Docks and jetties jutted into it at irregular intervals. All types of ships were docked, modern and ancient, some grander than the Sirena but none larger. Beyond them, Gillian could see the gold and green lights of the town.

  “The Midnight Market,” she whispered.

  “Where everything is for sale,” Shayne said, sounding decidedly less awed than she did.

  Gillian glanced up at him.

  “Are you still with me?” she whispered.

  “I am,” he said, though she heard the reluctance in his voice.

  As the Sirena neared a wooden dock, the ship slowed. The edge of the low platform was covered with thick pads, which the ship gently bumped. Sal jumped to the ropes and expertly tossed a thick one around a metal cleat on the dock. Before the line went taut, she quickly tied it off and ran aft. There she did the same. But as the ship gradually came to a stop, she pulled hard on the line. The rear of the ship nudged the dock before Sal tied it off. They had arrived.

  “Here we are,” she said, striding up to them. “The Midnight Market.”

  For a few moments, the three of them just took it in. But from here, there wasn’t much to see. Beyond the row of buildings at the boardwalk, there was a glow. The buildings themselves were in silhouette. Some of the moored ships had windows that were lit. But more often, the vessels seemed vacant.

  Sal moved to the gangway and slid it into position. She crossed first, followed by Gillian and Shayne. As Gillian’s feet touched the dock, the feel of unmoving wood was strange. In fact, it felt as though it was in motion. She stood still for a moment, trying to get her bearings.

  “You’re sure you won’t change your mind?” Sal said.

  “You’re sure you won’t come with us?” Gillian asked, though she already knew the answer.

  Sal shook her head.

  “You can lose your head here,” Sal said earnestly. “Or your memories, your life, or your freedom. Do not take these vendors or their bargains lightly. Do you know the rules of the market?”

  Gillian nodded. “Killing is punishable by immediate execution. Verbal contracts are binding. Everything is for sale.”

  Sal nodded. “A slip of the tongue can earn you indenture here. There is nothing you have that they cannot take.”

  Sal hadn’t yet left, but Gillian was already missing her. On an impulse she threw her arms around Sal. They hugged for a long moment, and it occurred to Gillian how few friends she had. It felt like she’d just made one, only to lose her. Sal gave her a final squeeze, before letting her go. Then she turned to Shayne.

  “Keep a sharp eye on this one,” she said. “And try to avoid the song of sirens, eh?”

  He held out his hand, and she took it. “I don’t think we can ever repay you,” he said.

  “Never say never,” she said, with a grin.

  And without so much as another word, Sal strode to one cleat and then the other, casting off the ropes. She leaped back to the ship and withdrew the walkway, tossing it to the deck. The Sirena began to move, slowly at first, picking up speed as Sal reached the helm. As the ship turned, she looked back and raised a hand.

  Gillian was on her toes, waving. But in moments, the Sirena was heading for the gap. Then she disappeared. Gillian settled back down with a sigh.

  “I’m going to miss her,” she whispered.

  “Me too,” Shayne said. Together they turned to face the city. “This is the first step in finding Tenebris.”

  Gillian took a deep breath and nodded. “A big step.”

  “Not as big when we take it together.” He grinned and offered her his arm.

  She smiled in return and took it.

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE MIDNIGHT MARKET was lit with street lamps of green and gold. Though they cast an underworld glow, it at least cut through the gloom. As they entered the market proper, the narrow, cobble streets were lined with vendor stalls.

  A black man wearing a scarlet turban called out fine fabrics for sale, while a plump white woman pushed a food cart offering curries. One tall figure, cloaked entirely in gray, was offering passports from a wide variety of countries. A young child, no older than ten, was selling wedding rings. They passed a smiling Indian woman dressed in a brilliant green sari, pushing a large wheeled cart. It was full of small parrots that were the same green as her clothing. Gillian wouldn’t have given them much notice, until one of the birds spoke clearly.

  “Ah, goddamn my eyes, I shouldn’t have bet it all on that last roll of the dice.”

  The woman saw her looking and wheeled her cart around.

  “Are you looking for fine familiars, madame?” the woman asked in a beautifully musical voice. “I have wonderful choices here. Perhaps you will let me help you make a selection?”

  Before Gillian could excuse herself, the woman pointed to one bird.

  “This one speaks a dozen living languages and a dozen more dead ones. This one over here is trained to sing in the operatic style. This one will tell your fortune.”

  Before Gillian could think of something to say, Shayne pulled her back.

  “No, thank you,” he said firmly. “We are not interested.”

  The woman pouted. She looked like she wanted to press her sales pitch, but Shayne lit a few flames on his fingertips. She shrugged and kept walking.

  “Shayne, I think those parrots were…”

  “People. Yes, maybe.”

  “How can we just walk by?”

  “By putting one foot in front of the other,” he said.

  The street was full with people vending from carts. The sidewalks were covered with wares spread out on blankets. But the further they got from the docks, the finer the buildings became. Instead of being built from what appeared to be scavenged wood, they were built with stone. The shops were lit from within with beguiling lights, and the barred windows showed glittering wares.

  Gillian was enchanted by a few of the things she saw. There were treasures and artifacts it would have taken a lifetime to catalog. There was something that looked a great deal like an Antikythera mechanism, an ancient astronomical calculator, though it looked new. They passed a bookstore Gillian was certain she could have lived in. But whenever she risked getting lost in the wonder of the place, she was brought up short.

  In one large window, instead of books or wondrous machines, there was a slender and beautiful man. Gillian was so shocked that she stopped dead in her tracks. He was naked, showing off his gorgeously sleek brown skin. His black hair fell like a river. But instead of human ears, his were rounded and furry. She could see a tail, striped orange and black, twitching behind him. He wore a collar studded with what looked like diamonds, its leash tied to an eyebolt in the floor. When he caught her eye, he glared at her, his gold eyes slitted like a cat’s.

  “I think I hate it here,” Gillian muttered.

  She thought Shayne would laugh, but he only nodded grimly.

  “Let’s find what you need and book passage out,” he said. “The sooner we get away from here, the safer we’ll be. Tell me what we’re looking for.”

  Gillian nodded.

  “The writings aren’t clear on many things, but they all agree that we must begin in the Cappadocia region of Turkey. But then there’s a gap. What I am going to pick up here is going to bridge the gap.”

  Shayne eyed her cautiously. “And what is going to bridge that gap?”

  Gillian took a deep breath. “Dragon’s eye seeds.”

  She was braced for Shayne to explode, but instead he just stared at her.

  “I’m sorry,” he said pleasantly. “I’m sure I misheard you.”

  “You didn’t. I’m sorry. I need dragon’s eye seeds.”

  “Absolutely not. Find another way.”

  Gillian snorted.

  “Do you think if there was another way that I wouldn’t
use it? When I made that breakthrough, everything made sense. Dragon’s eye seeds are the missing link, what people have been missing for perhaps centuries.”

  “Dragon’s eye seeds can kill giants,” Shayne said through gritted teeth. “It is a poison, Gillian.”

  “It’s toxic,” she corrected. “It also lets you see things that aren’t evident to the naked eye. The ancients who built Tenebris left us clues. They left them in Cappadocia, and I know they’re still there.”

  “Did it not occur to you that those ancients weren’t all that pleased with Tenebris being rediscovered?” Shayne growled. “That perhaps one of the best ways to get rid of anyone who was looking for them was to make sure that they took some kind of famously poisonous herb? Especially one that could only be gained by going to a famously dangerous market?”

  Gillian shook her head.

  “Or they wanted to make sure that they were well-defended. Shayne, they left these instructions. They wanted to be found someday. Marceline and I discussed the danger. But we both thought it worth the risk.”

  “No, it isn’t, Gillian,” Shayne said, his voice rising. “This city, these ruins of a time that no one gives a damn about, aren’t worth you.”

  His last words echoed from the stone walls around them. Gillian could see that the passersby were watching her out of the corners of their eyes. It was a discussion about worth, she realized, and that would be of interest in the Midnight Market.

  The silence between them stretched. From above, Vlasti sensed her master’s dismay. She circled down to rest on his shoulder, her golden eyes darting back and forth in confusion, looking for an enemy. In Gillian’s backpack, Max stirred uneasily. Her familiar could tell that despite her calm face, her heart was being torn. She didn’t know why, but Gillian suddenly wanted to cry.

  “Yes, it is worth that,” she said quietly.

  A flurry of emotions flitted across Shayne’s face. There was a flash of confusion, heartache, rage, and then…nothing. He looked as cold and distant as when they’d first met.

  “All right,” he said.

  “All right?” she asked hesitantly.

  “Yes. Do what you think you need to do. I know what my mission is here, and come hell, flood or fire, I will fulfill it.”

  Though there was something disquieting in his tone, she nodded.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  There was a bright spark of rage in Shayne’s eyes before he averted them.

  “Do me a favor,” he said. “Never, ever thank me for this again.”

  • • • • •

  Gillian was finally realizing that the Midnight Market was vast. She flagged down a child of indeterminate sex to ask directions to an apothecary. When the child asked for payment, she hesitantly offered them a quarter. The child inspected the shine of the metal, grinned, and led the way.

  “Here you are, missus.”

  Gillian blinked.

  There was a long street lit with yellow sodium lights. It looked like any other street that they had passed. There was the same mixture of fine shops and street peddlers, all of whom seemed to be doing brisk business in the dimness of the town.

  “No, I need an apothecary,” she said, wondering if she had been misunderstood.

  “And I took you to them,” the child said. “All of this street is apothecaries, missus. There’s some more close to the docks, but they en’t as good.”

  Gillian bit her lip, looking down the street. “Well, thank you.”

  The child turned to go, but Shayne snagged them by the arm.

  “Give it back,” he said tersely.

  The child swore inventively, but after a moment, pulled Gillian’s smartphone out of their pocket. They handed it back to Gillian.

  “You’re lucky I don’t turn you in,” Shayne said with disgust. “I don’t know what they do to pickpockets here, but I know it’s not good.”

  The child’s sneer was frighteningly adult in such a young face. “Like it would be much worse than living here day in and day out?”

  Before Gillian or Shayne could speak again, the child darted off down the street, disappearing from view.

  “Thank you,” Gillian said.

  Shayne shrugged, not bothering to speak. She understood his anger, but his silence was beginning to irritate her.

  He knew the job when he took it.

  With that in mind, she strode into the first apothecary’s shop. It was a fine one, with windows of dark glass and strong lights inside. The proprietor was an older woman wearing an enormous wig of curly, red and gold hair.

  “Hello, darlings. What can I find for you today?”

  “I need dragon’s eye seeds,” Gillian said promptly.

  The woman shook her head. “Do I look as if I trade with murderous lowlifes? Search elsewhere.”

  “But–”

  The woman’s face hardened. “Did you not hear me, girl? I said search elsewhere. There’s nothing for you to buy here.”

  Gillian would have protested, but it looked like the woman might pick up a broom to shoo them out. In a matter of seconds, they were back out on the street.

  “Well, that went poorly,” Gillian said.

  Shayne said nothing, and she wondered how long he was going to be silent. Then she told herself she didn’t care, not even a bit.

  The next store on the street was exceedingly narrow and very deep. Shayne almost had to walk sideways to get down the aisle. On either side, the walls were lined with tiny drawers that hinted of spices and blends from all over the world. They made their way to the back, where there sat a handsome young man dressed in a dapper suit of grays and browns.

  “And a very pleasant morning to you,” he said. “How can I help you today?”

  “I’m looking for something a bit obscure,” said Gillian, temporizing a bit.

  “Well, we can certainly help you with obscure potions and chemicals here. What are you looking for? Some kind of fast-acting poison? A slow one? A love charm?”

  “No, I’m looking for dragon’s eye seeds.”

  At least this man didn’t immediately make her leave. Instead, he tutted, shaking his head.

  “Well, that’s not something I can help you with, I’m sorry,” he said. “May I ask what you need it for?”

  Gillian thought for a moment. “I need to see something that isn’t there.”

  The apothecary considered that, and then regretfully shook his head.

  “There’s nothing that does quite what dragon’s eye does,” he said. “Besides being a particularly powerful and unpleasant poison, that is.”

  “Isn’t poison already fairly unpleasant?” Gillian said.

  “It is.” He grinned, displaying two rows of crooked teeth. “Now imagine how much worse it is when an apothecary tells you it’s bad.” Gillian winced. “I see you take my meaning. Still you might find someone on the street who will sell it to you. If you cannot, come back here, and I will see about getting you something that might do at least part of the job. Something is better than nothing, yes?”

  Gillian thanked him, and left, pushing Shayne in front of her. When they were back on the street, she sighed, looking down the long row of shops yet to search.

  Though Shayne didn’t say anything, the look he gave her spoke volumes.

  “I need this,” she said defensively.

  She spent the rest of the day trying shop after shop. After she had exhausted the shops, she went to visit the private apothecaries, the ones that lived in the apartments above street level. After the first ones, she realized that she had found the drug dealers, mostly selling recreational chemicals. Still she asked, but they had nothing for her. Finally, she was down to the street vendors, those who spread their wares out on blankets, or who vended their powders and tinctures out of the many pockets of their coats.

  The darkness of the Midnight Market was making her sense of time stop entirely. She didn’t look up from her task until Shayne touched her shoulder gently. For a moment, she thought that
he had forgiven her for her mad quest, but his gaze was still that of a professional, calm and cool.

  “You need food,” he said. “You can’t keep running yourself into the ground like this.”

  Reluctantly, she allowed herself to be pulled away from the shops. There were a number of food stalls and carts nearby. It reminded her a bit of the food trucks that prowled the working neighborhoods at home, but the food that they served was quite different. She found a cart that sold fried pastries that looked a great deal like samosas. She paid for two and found that instead of beef or chicken, they were filled with sweet red paste. They were strange, and she might not have chosen them if she knew what they were, but they were filling enough.

  Shayne came back with charred meat rolled in sweet white bread. He offered her a bite.

  “What meat is that?” she asked.

  “I didn’t ask, and you probably shouldn’t either,” he said with a trace of his old humor. At her shocked look, he laughed. “It’s goat meat,” he told her. “Don’t worry.”

  She was so relieved to hear him laugh that she sighed, leaning against him.

  “Are you still angry with me?” she asked softly.

  “I was never actually angry with you.” he started. When she snorted, he amended that. “Maybe a little at first. You know that what you’re doing is dangerous. You know that I would rather you didn’t do it. I’ll admit that a small part of me hopes that you won’t find the damn seeds at all. But I knew what I was signing on for.”

  They finished eating in silence.

  “All right, let’s get back to it,” she sighed.

  It didn’t matter though. No matter where she went or who she asked, the answer was the same. The vendor didn’t have it, or never sold it, or hadn’t seen any in months or even years. More than once she was asked to leave. Others offered a substitute that seemed to carry an even higher risk for an even less certain result.

  As they walked through the stores, only one piece of information caught her attention.

  “Perhaps you would look for that sort of thing in Absinthe Alley,” exclaimed one woman who had a hissing snake around her shoulders. “But you will not find it here, miss!”