“Yes.”
“Where do I know you from?” The middle-aged man rested rolled-up sleeves on the counter as he leaned in, studying her. She opened her mouth only to close it when he snapped his fingers in her face. “That’s it! The Dark Market. You’re always buying up all sorts of weird things.” His expression drifted into one of intrigue. “I heard a little rumor you’re the necromancer.”
“That’s true. Though I don’t waste my energy on those who annoy me.”
Hazel eyes creased at their corners as the man smiled. “Let this one go.” He inclined his head toward Shaw. “He’s always brooding. Have a seat, I’ll buy you a drink.” He patted the bar top before her vacated space.
“I don’t drink alcohol.”
“Breakfast?”
“I’ve already eaten, thanks.” Not that she’d ever touch a bite of food that came from this place.
The barkeep laughed. “Fine. I guess I’ve got nothing to keep you here.”
Lux made to reply, something like “You certainly don’t,”when she noticed the absence of warmth at her side. Whipping her gaze through the Bog’s expanse, she glimpsed a flash of blue as it disappeared out the front door.
“Damn it all.” Ignoring the barkeep’s calls, she weaved through the growing crowd.
The following lungful of clean air did little to ease the ache in her chest. Shaw had vanished. Cracked cobblestones branched off into foul-smelling alleyways, and he could have gone any number of ways. She puffed a breath through her cheeks, kicking out and missing a rock as she stepped down from the tavern’sentryway. She was irritated with herself for allowing him to slip away so easily.That blathering barkeep. Seeing no help for it, she chose to continue following the street. Maybe she’d get lucky again.
Midmorning approached and thin clouds coated the sky, hinting of sunshine once midday ascended. Even the promise of it brought a smile to her lips despite her annoyance over what occurred in the Brewing Bog. Face upturned to still-hidden sunlight, she startled at the sound of rocks skittering over stone. When midnight skirts swished in the corner of her eye, she spun. Ebony hair disappeared around the bend.
Riselda?
Shops on this side of town would offer nothing she’d ever want to lay her head upon. Surely Riselda must know that? Before she could think otherwise, her feet changed direction, following her aunt.
Skulking through the alley, spying on Riselda, left Lux feeling like the worst sort of miscreant. Head held high, shoulders back, her aunt’s blue skirts sashayed as her hips swayed with every step. She certainly appeared as if she meant to be here rather than refurbishing their home as she’d led Lux to believe.
A mound of trash offered a perfect, if not odorous, hiding place when Riselda suddenly stopped before a descending basement door. Lux dove behind it as her aunt’s head swiveled, scraping her knee and landing her palm in something that squelched. She barely suppressed the gag. She readjusted as best she could, neck screaming in protest, her heartbeat loud in her ears.
A fist upon wood echoed against the crumbling mortar around them only to be followed by a screechas rusted hinges ground open. Lux breathed as softly as she could, hoping to pick up conversation, but was met with only silence. She didn’t trust herself to measure time correctly with her pulse so wild; shecounted out several minutes before peeking around the piled garbage.
The alley had emptied.
Riselda must have gone inside.
Lux bit at her lip, indecision drawn in every line of her crouch. Self-preservation warred with curiosity. What could her aunt possibly desire in the Dark after spending so long away from home? That question, along with how easily she’d maneuvered away from Lux over breakfast, led her to believe it to be something unsavory.
Before the cautious half of her head could overrule, she crept forward, keeping close to the wall. Muscles tense, she discovered slime-coated stone steps leading toward a basement entrance. But the door was closed. Lux’s heart plummeted with disappointment, though it battled a little with the relief over not finding her aunt’s angry gaze glaring up at her. She wasn’t sure how she’d talk herself around why she’d followed Riselda here.
Lux pivoted only to pause partway. A glimmer snagged her eyes.
A window?Very few of these buildings possessed functional ones, and those that did overlook the street. This window not only faced the dim alley, but it rested just inches off the stone path. Shoddily shuttered, Lux caught the glimmer again as it leaked through the cracked wood.
She crept forward, intrigued.
Candlelight. Through the shutters, she could see they lined the planked walls in dripping sconces, and the resulting shadows danced over a large desk and even larger worktable. An old, bent woman, a wart her only adornment, dug carefully through a chest in the corner of the room. Riselda watched on, fingers drumming a silent tempo beside a bubbling red liquid puffing fumes from its beaker.
It wasn’t the only one.
The entire workspace was a mess of transparent tubing, glass beakers and flickering flames. The old crone was some form of alchemist. She must be. Riselda sighed, voicing a question Lux couldn’t hear. Judging from the eye roll at the answer received, her aunt wasn’t pleased. She appeared in a hurry to be done with this particular errand and the old woman’s snail-pace wasn’t helping.
Finally, the alchemist straightened. Or rather, she unbent herself slightly, with a small item tucked carefully within her hand that Lux couldn’t see no matter how she strained her eyes through the cracks. Riselda lit with a palpable eagerness and reached greedily toward the woman, gripping the small vial deposited in her palm as if it were a pound of purest gold.
Though a staggering pound of gold is what it appeared to cost, as her aunt proceeded to count the mass of goldquins into the alchemist’s awaiting purse. How could such a tiny vial be worth so much? What did it do?
Lux burned with curiosity, gaze fixed on the bubbling, steaming liquids with ever-increasing interest. How she’d love to sneak inside and explore…
