by K. N. Banet
“Every building represents where in the world its doors go,” I explained softly, leaning closer to him. “Like this building? The one we came out of? It has a door to the Phoenix area, Flagstaff, and Sedona in Arizona. It also has a few ways in from New Mexico and a couple of other states, and I think Mexico. I think. I don’t know where all the doors into the Market are.”
“How?” he asked, and I knew they were the words of a man trying to believe what he was seeing.
“Magic,” I answered simply. “Years and years of it, piling on top of itself. In a hundred years, it’ll be different. Sometimes, it rearranges itself and kills off doors that go unused. It’s developed a mind of its own, and not even those who are linked to it can figure out how it works. I’ve met a couple of them.”
“Linked?”
I should have known that would be a question.
“Yeah. So, the original creators are linked to the space if they’re still alive, but I know not all of them are. From there, others have been added to it. They maintain the space, anchoring it to reality. Between them and an anchor in our world, the Market stays as stable as it will ever be. It’s a wilder version of the magic used to make the Tribunal’s chambers.”
I watched him open and close his mouth, looking around as he tried to take in the pure insanity of where he was. I had done the same thing.
“Why use planes when you can just come here?” he asked. “Why don’t you just live here? This is…”
“Oh…” I clicked my tongue, trying to find the best way to answer that. “One, using the Market purely for travel reasons is prohibited by magic. Unless you live here, you leave through the door you entered through. I paid for our trip, remember? This world remembers that. It won’t let us in any other doors willingly. It’s a rule written into the very fabric of the pocket dimension. And to live here…” I shrugged. “Nothing lives here naturally except those who are linked to it, and they can come and go as they please. Anyone else will have to deal with strange side effects because this dimension isn’t theirs. On top of that, they still need to leave through the door they came in.”
“So, it naturally repels outsiders,” Raphael whispered. “And everyone has to make do with that.”
“Yup. People who run businesses here do it on a rotation. There’s one place where I love to eat. Half of their employees will work here one day, then rotate the next day. Because they make so much, the fee to get in and out doesn’t really hurt their bottom line. If a business can’t manage that fee, they don’t do well here for long. Started by criminals, it’s extortion at its finest but also at its most beautiful.”
The first thing I needed to do was hit up a booth near the India building. None of the buildings had official names. Everyone had their own shorthand or code to understand where the building was from and what it represented. It led to some communication errors, but it was how the Market worked.
“So, which errand first?” Raphael asked, following me dutifully. He stayed close, a smart decision, considering the environment.
I watched how people turned and frowned at both of us. I was somewhat well known in the Market, like any other Tribunal agent who frequented. Raphael was a mystery, though I had a feeling news of his existence had already made its way around the Market and in the wider world.
“We can do a couple at once,” I said, pointing at the stall I wanted. An elderly witch of clear Indian descent stood behind her wooden table. It was an effort to push through the crowd to get to her because she had patrons flooded around her. Someone growled at me, and I hissed back, showing fang. Whoever had growled stepped away quickly, leaving me with just enough space to get to the witch. The witch was an elderly woman, to be sure, but her gaze was sharp, and it found me quickly.
“Executioner Sahni. It has been a long time,” she greeted. Everyone around the table went quiet, no longer trying to get her attention. “How can I help you today?”
“Greetings, Devika,” I said, nodding respectfully. “I need to make a somewhat large purchase today.” I looked around and sighed. “If you can fit me in.”
“I’ll always find time for you,” she said with a wave of her hand. People backed away from her booth, and she opened the partition to let me and Raphael in further.
Devika was once a trusted ally of the nagas, a witch who helped with protections for my people. After the attack we suffered over a century ago, which left me the last living female naga, she had stepped back, partly because Adhar didn’t wish to trust her anymore and partly her own shame at the failure of her protections. I was too young to get involved and never brought her back in the loop, but I tried to support her business every now and then as a thank you for her efforts.
Booths in the Market had both public and private zones. Everyone had what they were comfortable to sell to the public, but behind temporary walls and fabric doors were the really good things.
“Piya, watch the front,” Devika ordered a woman in the back. I raised an eyebrow as the younger witch walked by us and toward the customers waiting outside.
“A new apprentice?”
“My magic is beginning to fail me, and I must pass down what I know. I can no longer extend my life the way I have for four hundred years,” she explained softly, turning to me. “So, what is it you need, Kaliya, ruler of the nagas?”
“A gift,” I answered. “Do you know popular gifts in India?”
“You need to be more specific. A marriage? A funeral? Get well soon?”
“A newborn,” I said, looking over my shoulder. Paranoia hit quickly. Newborn naga children were hidden from the public as long as possible. They were too vulnerable, much too vulnerable. Most couldn’t control their shifts between forms, if they ever did at all. Every child progressed to using their magics at a different speed.
“Who do you want the gift for? Parents or child?”
“Parents and child,” I said softly. “Obviously, this is potentially sensitive.”
“Of course. I keep in contact with Adhar, so I know of the news. Piya doesn’t, so keep your voice down. I didn’t expect you to come to me with this.”
“Well…I don’t know much about what’s popular in India right now. Haven’t in a hundred years.” I shrugged, trying to play it off, but I was so withdrawn from the culture of my birth, I was practically an outsider.
“Are you excited? A girl,” Devika whispered, a small smile forming. “A blessing for your people.”
“Terrified,” I admitted. “But I’ve been busy with other things. I need this to be a rush order.”
“Other things, huh?” I watched Devika’s gaze move over my shoulder, where a space heater was keeping my back warm. Raphael shifted his weight, obviously unsure how to feel about the sudden attention.
“Tribunal business. I’m assisting Cassius in an investigation,” I said quickly.
“The rumors have already reached me,” Devika said, waving a hand dismissively.
Which means Adhar knows if he felt comfortable telling Devika about Roshni. I’m glad to see them finally fixing this rift. Devika was a great ally before everything happened. Maybe they’re setting up for Piya to become an ally of the nagas. It’s nice having a witch on the payroll.
“Fantastic,” I mumbled. Sighing, I rubbed my face. “Look, can you help me or not?”
“On the news of her birth, I made a few items. Sudden inspiration,” Devika said, her voice turning dreamy as though her mind was going elsewhere.
“You often make pieces inspired by my kind,” I pointed out.
“I do. The nagas and many of the other people from our homeland often inspire me to create,” she agreed, nodding.
I looked around while she went farther back. Devika wasn’t just a witch, she was also a jeweler, a maker of fine pieces of art to be worn and shown off. Everything from the most beautiful jewels to simple pieces of leather, crafted by both hand and magic. That was why she hadn’t taken an apprentice for so long. She wanted to teach someone in both.
I saw many beautiful pieces, some based on the gods while others were based on nagas, the rakshasa, the vanara, and more. I could even find prominent supernaturals, like an interpretation of my namesake, the original Kaliya from legend.
“I’ve been doing a lot of research,” Raphael said softly. “So, when I see a bird like a hawk or falcon, can I assume it represents…”
“Garuda?” I sighed heavily. “Probably.”
“Garuda is a representation of great warriors,” Devika said, coming back to us. I gritted my teeth and allowed her to continue. “Garuda swoops down and kills the deadly serpent, like a great warrior crushes his foes.”
“Because his mother hated our mother,” I muttered.
“Kadru, mother of the nagas, tricked his mother into slavery,” Devika reminded me softly. “But as in all wars, there are two sides. I believe in protecting everything about our great homeland, not just the parts I like. Do I think Garuda should take his wrath out on the nagas? No. Do I understand it? Of course.”
“Maybe we should change the topic,” Raphael said softly, looking down at me.
“Good idea. Devika and I have had this conversation a few times.” I turned to the elderly witch. “What do you have?”
“I believe gold is the color of most nagas,” she said carefully, lifting two boxes, one in each hand. “I have done no magic to these. You may choose one.”
“And I’ll need to find other gifts elsewhere,” I said softly, grabbing the smaller of the two boxes.
“No, but you want more than just jewelry, things like flowers, or a card. You know, modern gifts would suffice.”
Not from me, they wouldn’t.
I opened the box slowly and smiled. It was an exquisitely carved gold band in the shape of a snake, its eyes fashioned out of two bright emeralds in brilliant cuts. With a simple fae charm, it would fit the little girl from birth to adulthood without a problem.
“What’s the other?” I asked.
“A necklace.”
“I’ll go with the band.” I closed the box and lifted it, making sure she knew my mind was made up.
“Why is gold the color of most nagas?” Raphael asked, his frown deeper.
“I look better in silver,” I answered absentmindedly, thinking about the little chubby wrist of a baby with a gold band that would cost more than her future education. “Do you recommend anyone for the other gifts?”
“Leave them up to Adhar?” Devika said, shrugging.
I wrinkled my nose but nodded, giving in to that. Picking out even one item was better than nothing. Beyond that, gifts were hard to send, considering I refused to enter the country and couldn’t just mail them to the family.
“You wanted to make a large order. Was there anything else?” Devika looked between Raphael and me, her eyes lingering on him a little too long for my comfort.
“Personal protection,” I answered. “We’ve run into a few situations recently. It’s time for me to reinvest into personal protection spells.”
“All right!”
An hour later, Raphael and I were walking out with a lockbox full of simpler jewelry. Everything was leather or stone, with very little expense, but the purchase still ran me into the millions. Everything was spelled with mental and physical protections for the wearer. Some would work, some wouldn’t, depending on the strength of the enemy and the circumstances, but I was glad to have it all.
“How do we send this?” Raphael asked, holding up the black box with Roshni’s gift.
“We need to work on that,” I answered, taking it from him. “Remember that boutique Cassius took you to?”
“Yeah…” Raphael swallowed. “I remember.”
“Okay, so… there’s a fae here who does something similar.” I led him through the crowds until we reached what I called the Old Europe building, literally a castle, nestled between two very modern art piece buildings from more recent times. It didn’t take much time to get to the fae I needed inside, and the quick charm was done for me. I raised an eyebrow when he didn’t ask for my billing information.
“You’re friends with Sorcha and Cassius. It’s on the house,” the fae said with a grin. He was thin and tall, his ears long and pointed. He had amber eyes, somewhat unusual but nothing special. His hair was a myriad of browns, but it didn’t glow. This was a low-ranking fae from a clan I didn’t care to know, and I didn’t recognize him from my previous visits to the establishment.
Ha ha. No.
“How much?” I snapped, keeping my face blank.
The fae’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure you don’t want to—”
“Don’t play games with me. I’m Tribunal Executioner Kaliya Sahni, as you probably know. I’m also one of the rulers of the naga. You don’t want to try to play those stupid tricks with me. How much? Or I’ll take my business out of the Market to someone I can trust.”
Another fae showed up, shoving the amber-eyed one away. I knew this one. He was the de facto leader of the Old Europe building.
“I’ll handle this,” he declared, taking the little jewelry box away from me again, redoing the charm and closing it. “It’s one thousand, but a gold coin is always an accepted payment for smaller transactions.”
I grabbed two coins from the pouch now at my hip and handed them over. I grabbed his hand before he could pull it away and leaned in.
“Tell your new guy that personal vendettas stay out of the Market or at least away from those of us willing to kill over them,” I whispered. “The next time he tries to trick someone like that could very well get him killed and everyone else in your business. I’ve come here before, and I would like to keep coming back.”
“The advice is welcome,” he said quietly in return. I heard him flip the two coins around in his hand. I had preemptively given him an extra as an apology for grabbing him. And potentially embarrassing him in front of his employees and other customers.
I let him go, grabbed Raphael’s wrist, and walked away, holding the box close to my chest with my free hand.
“That’s all we need today,” I declared, suddenly ready to go home, but when I looked at Raphael, his eyes danced with excitement.
“So, now we get to explore, and I get to try some of the food?” he asked, grinning. “Because I really like it here. This is…actually the best thing about being a supernatural yet.”
“Let’s go,” I said, giving in to his excitement.
I took him down a secondary road in the Market, all based on foods and for people to get away from the main shopping for a minute. There, I practically threw away my gold coins, letting him try different street vendors. I watched him jump in shock as an octopus tried to hitch a ride on his shoulder, so it wouldn’t become a meal.
I caught myself staring at him a lot. He looked over, and I pointed to another vendor.
“Go try their specialty. It’s amazing,” I promised.
Another two hours later, we sat down at a small table with two Turkish coffees.
“Why don’t you come here more often?” he asked.
“I normally come once every six months or so,” I answered. “Things have been really busy lately, and I’ve been focused on other things. Plus…” I lifted my pouch and shook it. “It’s quite the pretty penny to have a fun day here.”
“How do you get more coins?” he asked, seeming concerned about how little the pouch jingled now.
“I buy ‘em. It’s not hard, just expensive.” I put the pouch away and sipped my coffee. “But today was fun. Thank you for coming with me.”
“Thank you for bringing me. I think I needed a day like this.”
“Me too.”
“You have seemed in a better mood than you were last night,” he pointed out, eyeing me warily as if I was going to strike him at any moment and kill him for daring to say I had been in a bad mood. It was overdone, though, leaving a comical note to it.
“I…” I considered my words carefully. “Can’t allow myself to get out of control or too frustrated.” I
sipped my coffee, watching him process my words.
“What happens when you do?”
“You know. People get hurt. That’s why I haven’t asked Paden to help us. It’s why I haven’t called in any favors. Same for Cassius. We’re trying to preemptively head off this going wrong and minimize the damage when it inevitably does.” I slowly turned my coffee mug around in my hands, watching it. “So…I’m trying to stay in a relatively good mood. Now, finish your coffee. There’s one more stop to make.”
I watched him enjoy his first authentic Turkish coffee, then led him to our last stop in the Market—the messengers. Run by a hodgepodge of species, they could get a package anywhere at any time and had never failed me. I didn’t use them regularly because of particular dangers my people dealt with, but today was important.
“I need someone who can go off the beaten path, preferably originating in New Delhi or Kanpur. This is a private affair.”
“I can find someone. Come with me,” the fae said.
Following him into the building, an honest skyscraper, he led us to the third floor, then left us in a room alone. When he came back, a young man followed him. The Market was too much chaos for me to properly identify the supernatural my normal way, so I looked for visual tells. There were some species I couldn’t trust with this, and some I could, but no matter what, I had to be careful.
“I’m a werewolf from Kanpur with no pack association. What do you need?” he asked, holding out his hand. His accent was thick, bringing old memories—visions of a home I hadn’t been to in over a hundred years, the smell of spices, the compound I grew up on, and the market I stole from when I ran away.
“I need you to drop this off at a specific address. There won’t be anyone to pick it up. I’ll only give these instructions once. I’ll know if this package fails to make it, and the consequences will be swift,” I said, keeping my face stiff and unemotional and didn’t shake his hand. Werewolves were stronger, and I was extra cautious about them after January. I didn’t need to give anyone the opportunity to bash my face in.