by T. F. Walsh
The closer they got, the more curiosity sped his pace. He’d heard of the Wart Market. Damn, every Tapestry being had, but most of them had zero ideas of where it lay. The location changed every time they held the market so the Guardians couldn’t track the participants to search for draes and demolish the joint. Then, how had Fallen known where to find them?
The queen called it a place for stray trash, which in hindsight bothered Saber’s sense of fairness. Fallen didn’t resemble the typical outcast he would have expected. She cared for that troll, and with the cages in her apartment, she’d spent time protecting humans from preying feasters.
And with her little setup in the city, she’d been there for years judging by the human knickknacks cluttering the apartment. Yet she’d evaded capture by Guardians this long, which was impressive.
“We’re close.” Her voice dipped to a whisper.
A three-story mansion lay shrouded in shadows. Not a single light was on, not even a hint of candlelight. Was the market action happening in the basement?
Enormous beech trees grew close to the building. Roots and branches zigzagged across the walls, intertwined with ivy. This place must have once been a grand house for some Romanian monarch or royal appointee. The years hadn’t been kind, but nature always claimed back what it owned.
“You sure we’re in the right spot?” he asked as they passed through the open gate that hung dangling on a hinge. Weeds and grass grew through cracks in the stone pathway, and skeletal shrubs lined the front of the eighteenth-century mansion. Four columns flanked the entrance, supporting a balcony on the first floor.
Fallen plucked something from her pocket and flashed it in his face. A golden coin, half the size of her palm, with a dragon etched on one side.
He halted and reached for her hand.
She snatched it away.
“A dazmeu coin? Where did you get that?” The queen had a small collection in her museum with a permanent guard watching over them day and night. And here Fallen was rolling one across her knuckles.
“You know how much crap I went through to get one of these babies? Having it is the only way we’ll get accepted into the Wart Market.”
How many of these coins were out there? “Where’d it come from?”
She shrugged. “I don’t ask questions. That’s the quickest way to get banned.”
Okay, she was full of surprises. Maybe time with her would reveal more mysteries about those living outside the realm. It might come in handy to buy his way out of prison if Noah caught him again.
Fallen approached the front doors engraved with swirling patterns. The wooden pane appeared ready to disintegrate at a single touch, yet Fallen’s heavy knocks only released a puff of dust.
She cut Saber a hard stare. “Oh, and one more thing. When we’re in the market, you’re my servant. Understand. Do as I say. Never talk back or leave my side.”
Knowing his tattoo could get them both killed, he pulled the hood over his head. But he loathed the idea of cowering to anyone.
“Are you listening?” Her voice dipped. “You can’t enter otherwise.”
“I’m my own—”
The creak of the door opening stole his words. Golden streams of light escaped from inside, along with voices and laughter. And was that char grilled corn teasing his nostrils? His stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten a decent meal in so long. The aroma brought back memories of the night feasts in the Guardian barracks. Roasts, fresh baked bread, and barbecued corn.
His gut hardened the moment his sights landed on the goblin in the doorway. At least six-foot-tall, the guy was leaning a shoulder on the frame, chewing on a toothpick. He was dressed in cargo pants, boots halfway up his shins and a leather vest, while pointy ears stuck out from greasy hair. Two bunnies with black fur and eyes hopped around his feet. Goblins believed the creatures that had a penchant for drae blood were related to their ancestry. What a joke!
“We want nothing you’re selling.” The goblin’s dark gaze fastened on Saber.
While his first reaction was to grab the turd and toss him out of their way, Saber remembered Fallen’s threat. To get this done fast, he had to restrain himself. His nerves tangled from watching the goblin scan him. In the past, he’d broken noses for less.
“He’s with me as protection.” She waved the gold coin, and the goblin’s eyes followed it like a cat focused on a rat.
“One coin per person.” The guard’s fingers tapped the blade at his hip.
Saber’s muscles tensed, and he kept his head low within the hood. The goblin leered his way.
“Come on, Cruz. It’s just me, and I’ve got guard trolls after me.”
The goblin scrunched his nose and spat on the ground, inches from Saber’s boots.
Saber groaned as part of him shook with the urgency to introduce Cruz to his fist.
Sensing his anxiety, Fallen nudged Saber and released a half laugh, half snort.
“Show me your face.” Cruz’s breath belched across Saber’s cheeks and reeked of onion. Bastard wasn’t letting them in. And he wasn’t groveling to a damn goblin who snacked on rancid flesh and worshipped rabbits.
“I told you, he’s just protection I hired.” Fallen’s hand stroked his inked bicep.
Saber’s veins turned to lava.
The shit-head shoved her aside.
Saber’s hand thrust out and clenched his vest. He yanked Cruz outside, sideways, and slammed his knuckles into the goon’s bulbous nose.
“Stop. What are you doing?” Fallen’s voice was an annoying gnat in Saber’s ears, her hands pulling at his cape.
Cruz stumbled backward, tripped over a dried up hedge and landed on his butt. He seized his knife and released a piercing howl. “Guardian!”
Fuck. Saber touched his head. The hood must have blown off. He lunged.
Cruz slashed his weapon, the blade biting Saber’s forearm.
Fuck that.
Saber grappled with snatching his wrist, while fingernails clawed at his cheek. Weaponless, goblins fought like rabbits using teeth and claws. Cruz’s foot kicked Saber in the thigh, inches shy from his jewels.
Saber exhaled loudly. “You’re lucky you missed, bud.” He cracked his neck.
Cruz crawled backward, scrambling to his feet.
Fallen screamed something Saber couldn’t decipher.
Not waiting, Saber charged. He laid a punch into Cruz’s gut and ripped the knife out of his grip before throwing it into the bushes. Hunched over, he slammed a round of quick punches into the goblin’s face. That should shut him up.
Fallen leaped onto Saber’s back and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Don’t kill him.” Her voice rang in his ears.
Saber gasped for air, choking to pull her arms away. He jerked upward, dislodging her.
Before he spun around, she thrust her fists into his back. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
He ignored her and focused his attention on the goblin, who lay on the lawn unconscious with blood pouring from his nose across a cheek. Well, that didn’t take long. Not much of a guard if he collapsed after only a few punches. Then again, when he was in the army, Saber’s hits were synonymous with taking down opponents with one hit.
“Do you butcher everyone who crosses you?”
Fallen’s voice echoed in his head. What did she want from him? Sit back and have a goblin push them around? Wasn’t happening. Not after Cruz had shoved Fallen aside. She might accept that treatment, but he wouldn’t. His words came through gritted teeth.
“He wasn’t letting us inside. He’s not dead. Just slee—”
“Idiot.” She paced into his path, face reddening, lips a thin line. “The other guards will look for him and raise the alarm.”
Saber glanced back at the open door with golden light pouring out. The two bunnies hissed at him, their piranha fangs on full display. He grabbed Cruz’s ankles and dragged him around the side of the house. In haste, he rolled the body into a large hedge and kicked dried leaves over him.<
br />
“There. He’ll wake up with a terrible headache.”
Fallen stood inches from Saber. She frowned at the thought of what he’d done, probably wishing she could skin him alive and be done with him. Instead, she thrust a finger into his chest.
“Fuckin’ imbecile. Now we have to do this fast. Or it will take me months to discover where the next Wart Market will be held. And no way in the lowest pits of darkness do I intent to be bound to you much longer.”
She darted toward the front entrance.
He didn’t see the problem because he’d gotten them inside, and now they’d have to work fast. No dawdling meant they’d get their mission done quicker. Worked for him.
7
The door slammed behind Fallen like a dinner gong, the bang reverberating through the lofty hallway. Everyone at the Wart Market would have heard that. There went her best-laid plans of being discreet. If Fallen’s throat weren’t so dry and scratchy, she would have screamed.
Saber strolled away from the door and brushed past her, his touch electric, tingling south. How could she hate him and want to jump his bones at the same time?
He threw her a smirk. “Are you always so high-strung?”
Asshole. Dickhead. Fuck-head. Which noun best described him? She swallowed the curse words in case Saber took them as a challenge. Getting as far from him as possible was the solution, and tonight their time together would finish.
She stepped over a tree root that had long ago burst through the flooring of the house. Others like it twisted across the walls and ceiling in a macabre, alien tentacles kind of way. Bronze lanterns were located in each corner. A combination of shadows and the flames reflected a puppet show across a room bereft of furnishings. The heat licked her arms, warming her, drawing out her own inner spark.
The empty entrance room must have once resembled the epitome of wealth and human greed. Now dust permeated the air, and a fissure ran from Fallen’s feet to a sweeping staircase.
Footfalls echoed to her left.
Saber followed a corridor where more lanterns lit the path. Ahead of him, the two rabbits that had accompanied the doorman goblin darted around a corner. Long ears, hungry for blood, and these guys reproduced like… well, like insanely horny bunnies.
In long strides, she passed Saber. “Put your hood back on before you get noticed.”
At the end of the hall, spots of light dotted the pathway. An intoxicating aroma of burnt caramel—magic—struck. The corridor flowed in a serpentine pattern, curving and twisting. Walls morphed into cobblestones. Leaves crunched underfoot. And overhead, skeleton branches were twisted in knots.
Saber cleared his throat. “You sure this is the right place?”
“Of course.” It hadn’t been easy to discover where the market would be held. At least, this time, a better location had been chosen compared to the last one in underground tunnels. That place had reeked of sewage no matter how much floral magic mist got sprayed into the air.
Around the next bend, she froze.
A decrepit display cabinet, cram packed with creepy doll heads, blocked their passage. Fallen clasped her hands by her side, resisting the urge to touch the freaky figures. The one with blue eyes in the bottom right corner, wearing an Eskimo hat, reminded her of one she had as a child.
“What fucked up shit is this?” Saber shouldered past for a closer inspection. “Are they alive?”
The dolls’ eyes blinked, and Fallen’s flesh prickled with magic. The bald one in the center of the unit, unprotected by a glass barrier had only one eye. It released a whiny cry, its mouth pried open into a black vacuum.
The figure wailed.
Saber huffed and stepped forward.
“Don’t touch them.” Fallen gripped his arm, drawing him back. “I visited a market a few years back that had something similar. It asked for payment or something as proof of passage.”
“Well.” Saber rubbed his jawline. “Give it your coin.”
Her chest numbed. “No freakin’ way. That’s my only way to visit other markets.” Think. The last test required a drop of blood to confirm she wasn’t a human.
She nudged Saber in the arm. “Stick your finger in its mouth.”
His incredulous stare pinned her on the spot. “The oval shape of the doll’s mouth is not for a finger, but a coin slot. Feel free to sacrifice your pinkie if you’re so inclined.” The way he cocked his eyebrow challenged Fallen with more than the test, and made fun at her suggestion.
“Shut up.” Oh, great response. Releasing a long exhale, she plucked the golden token from her pocket. She stared at the dragon on one side and flipped it over to a crown. For two years, she’d held onto this lucky charm. “I had to fight a couple of goblins with one hand tied behind my back to get this baby. They are nearly impossible to find. How do I attend other markets?”
He shrugged. “Maybe it’s the last one? Or the doll will shit it back out.”
“You’re disgusting.” She scrunched her nose for extra effect.
“Just put the coin in. Trust me on this.”
“Well, I don’t trust you.” Another look at her coin and something inside her shifted at the idea of giving away an object she’d worked so damn hard to obtain. What other options did she have? It might be worth a try. In a few quick steps, Fallen closed the distance between where she stood and the cabinet, and without another thought, she slid the coin sideways into the doll’s mouth. The creepy thing sucked the token from her grasp and it vanished into the dark hole.
Then nothing.
What had she done? “Why did I listen to you?”
She turned in Saber’s direction, and he wore an idiotic smile. She choked on her trepidation as her throat thickened at the flood of emotions filling her insides. With her coin gone, it might take months or even years to find another one. Until then, she’d run out of spell ingredients to protect her apartment. Oh, not that it mattered because rock-head here was the Queen’s Guardian, and she’d have to abandon her home. Now, she’d not only be homeless but with minimal magic supplies.
The toy’s whining stopped, and a sound of metal hitting an empty bowl surrounded her.
A twinkle from the candlelight reflected in Saber’s dark eyes, and he grinned as if it amused him to drive her to insanity. “You need to follow my lead more often.”
“Never going to happen.” She spun around, noting the fixture now sat sideways against the wall, allowing them passage. Placed in the middle of the walkway was her golden coin.
Embarrassment flushed her, more like an inferno.
Saber strolled in a show of square shoulders, an extra swing in his steps to prove his point, to remind her he’d been right. With one swoop, he picked up the coin, and the cabinet started returning to its original position.
She rushed after him, and the unit clicked back into place behind them.
A flood of light, cacophony of sounds, and the smell of barbecued corn overwhelmed her senses. She was hungry enough to eat ten cobs at that moment. Suppressing humiliation with food always worked.
Saber pressed the coin back into her hand.
“Thanks.” Yeah, he was right this one time. It didn’t mean she’d trust him again. “Let’s go.”
At the end of the corridor, they emerged into a room that must have once been a splendid atrium. Lanterns hung from the glass walls, their reflection revealing the blackest corners, tossing shadows across the hustle and bustle of the Wart Markets.
Across the room, tables spread in every direction manned by goblins and even a few trolls haggling for magic supplies, food, and clothing. Draes or half-draes were rarely seen, yet they occasionally took the risk to buy supplies here. The breed mostly kept to the shadows just in case the queen’s Guardians made a surprise visit and caught them.
Everywhere, beings of almost every origin carried baskets or bags, dressed in summer clothes—jeans, T-shirts, one troll even garbed in overalls. Human clothes made it easiest if they needed to cross over from Tapestry into Ear
th.
Fallen’s friend, Zana, had always preferred a corner, away from others. “Stay close and whatever you do, for goodness sake, don’t remove your cloak.”
They merged into the milling throng, engulfed by voices and smells of rancid body odors, stale air, and incense. Shoulders bumped her, someone stepped on her toes, and bulging bags swung into her legs.
With the overhead lights, Fallen couldn’t help but be reminded of a flame festival she’d attended with her mother. Food, dancing, laughter. Youngsters had carried tiny candles, practicing their ability to speak to fire, but her mother wouldn’t let her participate. At midnight, the songs broke out, filling the forest with bird-like tunes.
While the Wart Market didn’t quite compare, it did have rabbits. Hundreds of the sharp-fanged creatures cluttering the place, searching for exposed ankles to bite. Yeah, she’d take the flame festival over this place anytime.
Through the crowd, she glimpsed herbs one merchant had displayed in tiny containers. On the way back, she’d pay this stand a visit to replenish her supplies. Those particular spices were not only necessary for protection spells, but relaxing if steeped in hot water. The next merchant booth had a display of fresh moth wings, which helped with migraines but best if added to a stew since they left the worst aftertaste. She might need a bucket-load of that item if she didn’t part ways with Saber soon.
All the while, her insides wrung tight. Not even the sweet aroma of corn loosened it. What had she been thinking to bring a Queen’s Guardian into a market of beings who were just trying to make a living? After his kind crashed so many markets and demolished them in their search for draes, everyone freaked out when the Guardian name was even mentioned.
Passing another table, she was drawn to translucent stones, twinkling beneath the light. Pretty, but above her ability. Either a drae was born with heavy or light magic. And Fallen was the latter, so she stuck to the basic spell that came in a packet and the simple enchantment in her veins that allowed them to cross the veil.
