Eden Undone (The Dawn Mirror Chronicles Book 2)

by A. R. Meyering

  “If you don’t know, how do you explain this inflamed reaction?”

  “I just―” She gritted her teeth, not wanting to face what she knew to be the truth, but aching to at last draw some of the poison from her fiercely guarded wound, and trusting Hector wouldn’t judge her. “I just thought that’s how it was supposed to be. When you meet your handsome stranger, everything’s supposed to fall right into place―and it all did! But even though it all worked out according to his plan, I didn’t feel like I was supposed to. Like how everyone told me I was going to. The only thing I did feel was uncertainty and dread. Perfect girls like Annette would know just what to do, what words to say, and how to feel, but of course leave it to me to mess things up. I can’t even do something as natural as falling in love right, can I?”

  “Penelope…I-I mean, Penny. It’s no fault of yours that you didn’t, erm, favor Noah. But why didn’t you just tell him that when you had the chance?”

  “I tried to, but he wouldn’t hear me. I was scared of facing him, just like always.” Penny was shocked at how her words all aligned and made perfect sense as they spilled out. “It seemed easier to shy away from every difficult situation instead of dealing with the consequences. I always held fast to the belief that if I just avoided confrontations or saying goodbye or even being honest with myself, I could protect myself from the pain that comes along with those things…that if I could hide within myself, I’d be safe forever. But those things have a scary way of catching up with you, don’t they?” Penny whispered, shivering.

  Hector noticed her distressed look and his eyes grew troubled. “It’ll be all right, Penny. I promise. Come now, let’s head back.” He helped her up and turned her away from the bench. They walked back in near silence, Penny’s mind full of difficult truths and Hector looking quite distracted.

  Stepping inside the manor, they came face to face with Argent. He was speaking to Annette and Noct, and when they entered, he faced them with fervor in his golden eyes.

  “Where the hell have you two been?” He regarded them with a lopsided grin. “As I was just saying, I’ve finally found a way to locate Professor Digg.”

  Argent, no! We can’t go in there!” Annette shouted as they watched Argent step toward the gaping hole that was the entrance to the Iverton underground. It was wide enough for fifty people walking side-by-side to fit through comfortably. The heavy rumbling of the deep earth, the shouts of salesmen and shoppers, and the far-off baying of animals echoed out from the dark throat of a tunnel. Vendors pushed carts laden with questionable products up and down the sloping passageway that led into the bowels of Iverton.

  “That’s the—the Dark Paradise!”

  “Annette,” Argent said lightly, eyeing a burly therion who was watching them with mistrust, “we shouldn’t use such derogatory names while we’re here, should we? Hm?”

  “But the Da―” Annette stopped, blinked at the leopard-like therion behind her and rephrased her sentence. “Thorn’s Bazaar is notorious for having unsavory characters frequent it. I’ve heard all sorts of stories about illegal goods, and infamous murders and―”

  “You might want to keep your voice down, Little Miss,” Argent advised, looking around. “I’m well aware of what kind of reputation this place has, and you can bet that everything you heard about it is true, but this is where my friend Irro works, and he’s the only one I could track down who knows where Digg is.”

  “I don’t like the idea of bringing these kids in there, Argent,” Hector mumbled.

  Noct heard and was ablaze in an instant. “I’m not a kid, how many times do I have to tell you? And I’m not scared of anything that could be down in that stink hole,” he exploded.

  “Oh Victor, would you be quiet for once? Maybe you should just listen to Hector, he’s rather wise, you know,” Mia advised, and Noct turned on her with gritted teeth.

  “It’s Noct, sis, Noct.”

  “Why do you insist on that silly nickname? Wasn’t that the name of that made-up hero you used to pretend to be when we played make be―”

  “Shut up! Shh!” Noct hushed, looking anxiously toward Argent, who was busy arguing with Annette.

  “This Irro’s fellow is…?”

  “You heard me the first time. An illegal immigrant from the Nation of Goblins. Now, you lot better keep close and quiet. I never asked any of you to come along, so you can just turn the hell around if you’re not feeling up to it. I’m going inside now, and you’re welcome, by the way.”

  “Big brother, wait for me!” Noct yelped, breaking away from the group and charging inside Thorn’s Bazaar after Argent. Annette squirmed in place for a moment, then sped off to catch up with them, followed by a very hesitant Simon. Hector shook his head, still looking apprehensive as he stood between Mia and Penny.

  “I think you had better stay by me, ladies.” He led both of them into the wide entrance of Thorn’s Bazaar. “Especially you, Penny.”

  “But what if I see―”

  “Ah, ah! Did you already forget your promise?” Hector admonished and she laughed.

  Mia grabbed Hector’s hand. “I won’t wander off!” she chirped, her voice sounding whiney and grating to Penny who suddenly felt quite grumpy.

  “Thank you, Mia. Let’s catch up with the others. Come along,” Hector advised, and they all hurried to catch up with Annette, Noct, Simon and Argent.

  Descending into the Bazaar, they found themselves in a large underground chamber lit by dingy yellow lamps. The outer rim was lined in carts, stalls, stands and even the occasional shop that appeared to have been built directly into the brick walls. Every other person in the chamber appeared to be missing a body part, bear grotesque scars or exhibit suspicious behavior. The sharp sounds of arguments and haggling echoed around the cavernous hall. Men made catcalls and pawed at Annette’s frilly skirts, and she clung to Noct.

  “Hey, missy, I’ve got a great deal for you here. Come look.” A toothy smile flashed from the mouth of an old elf who sat behind a table covered with clear sacks of black, crystalline dust.

  “What is that?” Penny asked and reached to touch one of the sacks, but was yanked away by Argent.

  He smacked her lightly on the head. “Which are you, crazy or stupid?”

  Argent refused to let Penny out of his grip for the remainder of the walk down the murky, underground alley with its smells of refuse, oily smoke, and humid air. When they reached the end of the tunnel, it split off in two directions and Argent stopped for a moment to consider which way to go.

  “It’s―it’s that way, isn’t it?” Simon braved, pointing down the left fork.

  Argent raised an eyebrow. “And how would you know that?” he inquired.

  Simon shrugged and started down the path. Penny and Annette exchanged bewildered glances as they followed. They passed a wicked looking apothecary with volatile smells emanating from it. Ahead of them, the jewel-bright windows of caravans gleamed, and a barefoot little girl skittered around them, begging the passerby to buy one of her mangy pofflin chicks.

  Argent halted in front of a sign that bore the title ‘Irro’s Emporium’ in cracked paint that glowed eerily in the black light from the lanterns on either side of it. The storefront tinkled with strange talismans, shriveled faerie’s wings hanging from strings, a sack full of papers with seals written on them in gold and silver ink, and the skulls of various animals. All of it was guarded by a black bird with a spiny beak and one milk-white, blind eye.

  Inside the store, purple and green fires stoked in an urn that lit the shop with an eerie, trembling light. Oddments of every variety covered the walls, the floor and ceiling so completely, Penny could not focus on a single thing long enough to understand what it was. She caught a brief glimpse of a book cover featuring a very disturbing image, and vowed to keep her eyes averted from that point on. At the opposite end of the shop behind a line of silver bars was a very thin goblin in an olive green cloak who was busy counting yuebells.

  “Welcome, friends.
Touch at your own risk,” the goblin croaked distractedly in his native tongue, then once again in Andronian, and finally in Fae. Noct moved closer to his sister.

  Argent strode forward and ran his fingers across the bars. The goblin looked up slowly, as if awaking from a dream. His eyes focused on Argent’s face and he sprung to his feet. “Fire from Heaven. Is that really you? Argent?” His green face paled. “It can’t be! You’re supposed to be dead! You died more than a decade ago!”

  “I’m supposed to be dead, yes, but when did I ever do anything I was supposed to, Irro?” Argent joked.

  Irro cackled and shook his head in disbelief. “You always been cheeky brat, I remember. You look like shit, what happened to you? How’s your rich daddy? Still doing business? Does he want to make another deal with me, perhaps?”

  “He’s dead,” Argent said, but Irro’s eyes had found his eclectic entourage. Mia was the only one who met his gaze without flinching.

  “Okay. No more jokes. Why’d you come here, hmm? I don’t deal in that straight-laced stuff no more. Not enough yuebells in that trade,” he chuckled. Argent laughed too loudly in agreement.

  “Ah, Irro. Why does anyone come to you? You’re a goblin with a thousand answers.”

  “Oh no, no. Not anymore. Too much danger, my friend. I got trouble with Bureau last week, I’m being watched. You should go to someone else.” Irro waved his clawed hand at Argent as if he were a pesky bee.

  “Irro, come on. Remember all the times we gave you discounts? Or that time I re-crafted your self-sorting-shelves?” He lowered his eyebrows and added quietly, “Or the fact that we saved your sorry ass from being deported? You’ve got to remember that much.”

  “Still a cheeky brat, yes,” Irro hissed through his needle-like teeth. “What you need to know? Talk fast, I got business to run.”

  “Walter Digg,” Argent said simply, and Irro slapped a palm to his face and moaned.

  “Don’t ask these things, don’t ask me.”

  “Where is he, Irro? I need to know,” Argent pressed, and Irro glared at him. When it looked like it may have turned into a staring contest, Argent spoke again. “Do I need to bring up the fact that I personally know the Captain of the Royal Guard now?”

  “Just leave the old bastard alone, he’s already got eno—”

  “Irro.”

  “All right, all right, I’ll talk! But if this comes back to find me, you better watch yourself or you may be going back to the land of dead sooner than you like,” Irro threatened. “He’s hiding out in an observatory north of the city. About ten miles south of Fendleford, got it?”

  “Mark it on the map.” Argent pulled one out from his pocket and Irro begrudgingly scratched the paper with his nail.

  “There. Happy now?” the goblin demanded. “Now take your circus and get outta here.”

  “Great seeing you, Irro!” Argent called cheerfully. Irro grumbled back a foul insult that made Annette blush, and the group left the shop in satisfied silence.

  “What was all that stuff about you being dead, huh?” Annette asked Argent as they moved back toward the entrance. Argent pretended not to hear her, but when she asked again he sighed.

  “I don’t know. Irro’s soft in the head,” he shrugged, but Penny could tell he was lying.

  “Enough chit-chat, let’s get out of here,” Simon interrupted, wiping sweat from his brow and casting a glance over his shoulder as he pulled ahead of the group.

  “What’s the matter with you? You’ve been acting squirrely since we arrived,” Hector observed.

  “Nothing that concerns you.”

  “Simon, honey? Is that you?” cried a surprised, high-pitched voice from across the crowded pathway. Simon’s expression pinched and for a second he looked about wildly. Penny observed with surprise he seemed more anxious to run away from the voice then identify the source of it.

  Seeing no escape, he greeted the voice with a malfunctioning smile. “Llllyyydia! Fancy meeting you here!”

  A girl Penny recognized as the fortune teller from Blossom Day rushed over to their group. She wore an elegant, dark gown adorned with black roses and woven patterns like spider webs. Her eyes were heavy with makeup, and a dark feathered fascinator sat atop her nest of sandy blonde hair.

  “So at long last, here are the friends you keep so well-hidden. I had no idea that they were celebrities,” the girl called Lydia said, nibbling on her black-polished fingernail.

  Before Simon could reply, Hector had caught the girl by her wrist. “What are you playing at?” he demanded as the others gasped.

  “Hector, what are you doing?” Annette shrieked.

  “Let me go, you creep! I’ve never even met you before!” Lydia screamed, trying to pry Hector’s hands off her wrist.

  “Don’t play the fool. You were born on Earth. I can feel the magic coming from you—and a considerable amount, at that,” Hector whispered. Lydia’s eyes grew wide as her face turned pale.

  “What?!” Simon bleated, his jaw hanging open. “That’s—that’s insane! Stop it, Hector!”

  “No, he’s telling the truth,” Argent agreed, his eyes narrowing.

  “I can see it, too,” Noct chimed in. “Right Mia?”

  “Absolutely,” Mia confirmed. Penny and Annette looked at each other, nonplussed as Lydia cast her gaze anywhere but at them.

  “Lydia, is this true? You’re from Earth?” Simon asked weakly.

  She looked pleadingly at him. “Of course it’s true! But…but so are you!” Lydia turned on Penny, her eyes as frightened as all of theirs.

  “How did you know that?” Penny demanded, studying Lydia’s pale-blue eyes with suspicion.

  “Because of what Simon’s told me. He talked about you—told me your names, what you can do. I guessed it from that.” She looked over at him with glassy eyes and his cheeks flushed. Clearly this was the first he’d heard of her origin and her awareness of his. Penny watched their silent exchange and scrambled to identify the emotion on Lydia’s face, which made her feel uncomfortable.

  “I propose that we owe each other an explanation,” Hector said curtly.

  “I second that,” Simon said, his eyes betraying how hurt he was. She nodded almost immediately.

  “Yes, yes of course. Come with me, my caravan is right this way.” Lydia fluttered around, her voice suddenly cool and confident. “We’ll talk inside. This shouting is attracting too much attention out here.”

  “Something feels off here, Penny,” Annette whispered, grasping Penny’s hand as they followed Lydia. They stepped into the ring of caravans and up the steps into the very same one Penny had first seen Lydia sitting on.

  “I hear you. Let’s keep our eyes open―and if it comes down to it, we outnumber her seven to one,” Penny told Annette, and this seemed to satisfy her.

  Inside the caravan was a tight fit as they tried to squeeze around a little table that only fit a few crystals and a deck of Tarot cards. Lydia sat at the head of the table, and there was a brief scuttling sound before a massive, hideous spider crawled up Lydia’s arm and onto her shoulder. Annette screamed with songstress lungs. Penny’s ears rang as her eyes watered.

  “An Arachnida!” Annette was screeching, clutching Argent so tight he appeared to be choking. “Kill it, someone kill it!”

  “Miss Annette, th-that’s Lydia’s pet. It’s got a name and everything―that’s Archibald,” Simon put delicately, trying to placate her, but this only seemed to revolt her further.

  “You keep it as a pet?! You named it? That’s disgusting!” Annette squeaked, her eyes tearing up as she cowered before the spiny creature that sat still on Lydia’s shoulder. Lydia’s eyes narrowed and she gave Annette a bitter glance.

  “Annette, shut up. I won’t let it get near you, just keep your mouth closed, okay?” Argent murmured to her with equal amounts of irritation and reassurance. She nodded uncertainly, tears streaming from her eyes while she held to him with a white-knuckled grip, her eyes fixed on the monstrous spider that
hissed and clicked its pincers menacingly.

  “He’s not going to hurt anyone. Archibald is very obedient,” Lydia droned, stroking her pet without looking at it.

  “Erm, Miss—” Hector began, returning to the matter at hand.

  “Lydia Caldwell.”

  “Miss Caldwell. Forgive my prior rudeness. Given the setting and the recent anxiety of the times, I assumed too quickly that you may have been an enemy of sorts. Would you mind telling us how it is you came here despite you’re being from Earth, and also, I hope I’m not prying, how do you know Simon?”

  “Oh, Simon never told you about us? That’s odd.” Lydia cast him a cold glance and he looked away.

  “No, he did not. But that would explain his frequent absences,” Penny added dryly.

  Lydia seemed to be calculating something in her mind for a moment before she spoke. “Well, it’s true, I came from Earth. I lived just outside of Las Vegas until I was seventeen, and to be completely honest, I’m still not quite sure how it was that I came to this place,” she said. “You see, I was always attracted to the mysterious and unexplained, since I myself am gifted in ways—”

  “What do you mean, gifted?” Argent interrupted.

  “Me and Penny, there. We’re alike,” she said simply. “Anyway, it was during one of my excursions in search of proof of the supernatural, that I was drawn to a place in the desert that was famous for disappearances. I could feel a strange, humming power in that spot and when I stepped into the center of it, I passed through a field of silent blackness and this place was on the other side.”

  “You’re saying you just fell through into this world? Just a strange little accident?” Argent asked, sharing a skeptical glance with Hector, but Noct interrupted.

  “You’re talking about those funny rifts in the air, aren’t you? In legends, they’re called Angel Gates, aren’t they?” Noct said. “My sister and I, we can see them. They’re like scars in the air. They’re places where the fabric of reality is torn a little bit because someone―most likely an Angel―was passing between worlds.”