One Night at a Soul Auction

by Amy Cross

  I pause for a moment, as I start to feel my blood running cold.

  No, it can't be...

  I take a step back, then another, and finally another, and then I let out a gasp of shock as I see that these so-called sheets are in fact human skins that have been tacked to a washing line. Looking up toward the top of one of the skins, I see holes for the eyes and nose and mouth, with wrinkled folds of skin that have been only partially flattened out. For a few seconds, I can only stare in horror, but then I turn and stumble away before dropping to my knees and starting to retch.

  “Are you okay there?” Matilda asks breezily, and I hear her coming over to me. A moment later, I feel her hand on my back. “Sorry, it didn't occur to me that you might be squeamish. If it's any consolation, they were already dead by the time I found them. I simply brought them to my little camp and skinned them so that I might -”

  “They're not real!” I blurt out, still convinced that I'm going to throw up properly at any moment. “Tell me they're not real!”

  I squeeze my eyes tight shut before bending over a little more.

  “Tell me!” I gasp. “They're just some kind of sick joke!”

  When she doesn't reply, I take a series of deep breaths before turning to look at her. She's staring at me with a hint of curious wonder in her eyes, while behind her the skins are flapping slightly in a breeze that's coming from one of the nearby corridors.

  “Why did you bring such awful things to my aunt's house?” I stammer. “Are you... are you a murderer?”

  “I'm an honest woman who needs money so she can eat and drink,” she replies, “and down here, human skins are a prized asset. Like I told you, they were dead when I found them. How they died and who was responsible, I can't say, but I didn't go out hunting for them. I just...”

  Her voice trails off for a moment, and now I see a hint of sadness in her eyes. It's almost as if she's about to cry.

  “Bottom-feeders don't get much of a choice, you know?” she adds finally.

  “What's a bottom-feeder?” I ask.

  “People like me. People who are just struggling to survive. Take tonight, for example. There's a soul auction going on. Now that's a rare thing, it only happens once a century or so. Some of the richest, most powerful demons in all of creation are coming to this part of the underworld to buy souls. And of course where there are rich demons, there'll be merchants hoping to make some money from them. All of that is taking place just a couple of miles from where we are right now, but it's not like I'll gain anything. Do you know why not?”

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Because I'm just a poor creature trying to make ends meet in the shadows.”

  She pauses, before taking my hand.

  “Let me show you something, kid.”

  I let her lead me across the rocks, and then we stop just as a glow appears on the horizon.

  “They're already getting ready for the soul auction,” she explains. “If that hill wasn't in the way, you'd be able to see the main market area lit up. A soul auction is a really big deal down here. There are even creatures that travel hundreds of miles just to observe, to stand at the edge of the light and watch what goes down.” She pauses again, before sniffing and wiping her eyes. “Not me, though. I'm not pathetic, not like that.”

  She turns and heads back over to the human skins, which are now fluttering in a light breeze. As she reaches up to take one down, however, a heavy bell suddenly rings out in the distance.

  We both turn and look toward the glow on the horizon.

  “That means it's going to start soon,” Matilda explains, with a hint of awe in her voice. “That's the signal for them to start gathering.”

  “What's a soul auction?” I ask, watching as the glow becomes a little stronger.

  I wish I could see around that hill.

  “You don't want to know,” Matilda says, “and you don't need to know. It's not for people like us.”

  “But what is it?” I ask, turning to her. “Why can't you tell me?”

  “How old are you?”

  “I'm ten,” I reply, making sure to stand up straight.

  “You are?” She furrows her brow. “Huh. You don't seem it.”

  “Well, I am!”

  “Great, kid. And let me tell you, ten is too young to be knowing about this kind of thing. Especially for a human.”

  She turns and starts taking the human skin down from the line.

  “What does that mean, for a human?” I ask, daring to go a little closer.

  “Never mind.”

  “But I do mind. What else is there to be, apart from a human? Assuming you can talk, I mean.”

  “You're really lost, aren't you?”

  “I'm just trying to get back to my aunt's house,” I explain, stopping as I watch her set the human skin down. For a moment, I'm revolted by the sight of a patch of gray, curly hair that covers a particularly wrinkled section. “I want to go home.”

  “We all start out like that,” she mutters. “Home this, home that. It seems so important, and then...”

  She hesitates, then she frowns, and then she smiles.

  “What was I saying?” she asks.

  “Is this your home?” I reply.

  She laughs and mutters something under her breath.

  Looking around, I can't help thinking that this doesn't look like much of a home. Apart from the skins and a few sacks filled with goodness-knows-what, Matilda doesn't really seem to own very many things. In fact, she reminds me a little bit of those homeless people you see sometimes in London, making do on the street and carrying their possessions around in bags. When I turn back to Matilda, I realize for the first time that I actually feel a little bit sorry for her.

  “Can you show me the way to my aunt's house?” I ask finally.

  I hate sounding so weak and helpless, but I suppose I can't help that right now.

  “I promised to take you, didn't I?” she replies.

  I swallow hard.

  I want to believe her, but I'm starting to feel a little nervous.

  “I need to sort a few things out here first,” she continues, as the wind starts to pick up all around us, “and then I'll take you all the way to your front door. How does that sound?”

  “That sounds very good,” I reply. “Thank you.”

  “I'll take the child,” a familiar voice says suddenly.

  Startled, I turn and see Duncan standing nearby. I don't know how long he's been watching us, but he has his eyes fixed on Matilda and he doesn't look very happy.

  “Oh, what are you doing here?” she asks, tossing a scrubbing brush into a metal bucket. “Do you have some kind of obligation to pop up and annoy people at random times?”

  “The child is mine,” he replies. “Not yours.”

  “Why don't you let her decide for herself?” Matilda asks, turning to me. “Hey kid, who do you want to hang out with on your way home? Captain Moody over there, or me?” She pauses for a moment. “I know the human skins aren't a good sight, but ignore those. There's more to me than stripping corpses.”

  “This isn't up for debate,” Duncan says, coming over and placing a hand on my shoulder. “Milly -”

  I instinctively pull away.

  “Milly,” he continues with a sigh, “I know you want to go home and -”

  “She's going to take me!” I tell him.

  “You can't trust her.”

  “Oh, really,” Matilda says, sounding a little annoyed, “is that what you came to do, Duncan? To poison the girl against me?”

  She comes over and puts a hand on my other shoulder, and this time I don't pull away at all.

  “Duncan and I go way back,” she explains. “Let's just say we have a little history, and it's why he doesn't like me anymore. We were friends once. Well, more than friends, and -”

  “We were never friends,” he says darkly, narrowing his eyes a little.

  “Hear that?” she continues, leaning down and resting her chin on my shoulder
. “He's a moody cat. Trust me, I know him better than anyone else knows him in the whole underworld. I can tell you things about Duncan that he doesn't even know himself.”

  “Unlikely,” Duncan murmurs.

  “How about this for a deal?” she asks. “We'll all go together. How about that, Duncan? You, me and Hamish.”

  “Milly,” I correct her.

  “Exactly. Duncan, Matilda and Milly on the road together. Doesn't that sound like fun?”

  “No,” Duncan replies. “I'll take the child and we'll travel alone. I have to keep her alive while the soul auction is going on, and that is my responsibility alone and mine alone.”

  “How about we give the kid some choice?” Matilda asks. “After all, she's ten years old!”

  Duncan sighs.

  “Who do you want to go with?” she continues, turning to me. “Apparently my offer of a compromise has been rejected, so you're gonna have to choose. Not ideal, I know, but it's out of my hands. I tried. So you're gonna have to make the decision.”

  “No,” Duncan says with another sigh, “she has to come with me.”

  Again he puts a hand on my shoulder, and this time I pull away even faster.

  “Milly,” he continues, “we don't have time for this. I purchased you, which means that I own you, which means that I – and only I – get to decide where you go, and with whom.”

  “I want to go with her,” I reply, stepping back and bumping against Matilda. “Not you.”

  “So?” he replies.

  “You heard the lady,” Matilda says. “She wants to come with me. Maybe she likes the fact that I actually care what she thinks. You can't treat someone like a possession, Duncan, and expect them to shut up and take it. The kid has her own mind, and she's decided what she wants, and she wants me to be the one who takes her home.”

  “And is that what you'll do?” Duncan asks. “Take her home?”

  “Are you suggesting I'd lie to a child? Don't press this matter, Duncan. You remember the last time we got into an argument, don't you? I seem to recall you tucking your tail between your legs and skedaddling away. Can your ego really handle another ass-whupping?”

  He stares at her for a moment, before taking a step back.

  “Let's ask her one more time,” Matilda continues, looking down at me, “just to be certain. Milly, you're free to choose and I promise I won't be offended if you choose him. We're both offering to take you home to your aunt's house, and the routes won't be very different. Really, it's just a matter of who's gonna offer the best conversation. So do you wanna walk in mostly silence with Captain Grunt, or would you like to take a stroll with me and hear lots of fun stories and learn about the underworld?”

  I turn and look at Duncan, and I flinch as I see that he's glaring at me with barely-disguised anger.

  “I want to go with you, please,” I say, turning back to Matilda. “If that's alright.”

  “That's more than alright,” she replies, reaching down and giving me a brief hug. “That's wonderful!”

  Hearing footsteps nearby, I turn and see that Duncan is already walking away. For a moment, I actually feel a little sorry for him. After all, he seems so very much alone, and I'm sure he did intend to take me home the way he promised. I even consider calling after him and asking him to walk with us, but he's already out of sight and I suppose the decision has been made. I hope I didn't hurt his feelings.

  “Come on,” Matilda says, taking my hand. “Let's pack up and get going. This is going to be so much fun! Just two girls heading off together on a road trip! Who needs boys, huh? You're my little Alice, and I'm going to show you Wonderland on the way home!”

  Chapter Six

  “What's wrong with him?” I ask as I follow Matilda along the winding cliff-side road. “Why's Duncan so angry all the time?”

  I glance over my shoulder, just to make sure that he's definitely not following us this time, and then I turn back to her. I'm certainly very glad that Duncan's gone now, but that doesn't mean I don't find him interesting.

  “Duncan doesn't like people talking about him,” she replies, with a glint in her eye. “He hates it. He prefers his past to stay in the past.”

  “Oh.”

  “So I'll tell you all the juicy details,” she continues. “He used to be a werewolf and -”

  “That's silly.”

  “What is?”

  “That he used to be a werewolf. Werewolves aren't real.”

  “You wanna bet?”

  “They're make-believe,” I point out. “You'd have to be silly to think they actually exist.”

  “Well, try telling that to a werewolf some time,” she replies. “Seriously, if you're ever pinned against a tree with a ferocious werewolf snarling at you, tell it that it doesn't exist. Maybe you'll get lucky and it'll believe you, and than it'll vanish in a puff of smoke. Of course, most likely it'll bite your face off and then spend the night sucking the marrow from your bones, but hey, everybody's got to die some time, right?

  She reaches out and grabs my arm, pulling me a little closer as we continue to walk.

  “Stay close, kid,” she mutters, glancing around for a moment. “I don't want you wandering too far.”

  “Why not?” I ask. “There's no-one else here, is there?”

  “Duncan used to be a werewolf,” she continues, and now she's looking around as if she's really nervous that we might have company. We keep walking, however, so I suppose she thinks we're okay. “A lot of stuff went down, he went off and had a lot of adventures, he even lost his tail for a while. The exact details are a little murky, but eventually he discovered that he had a demon side as well. When he lost his werewolf side in an accident, he was left as what you met today. An angry, bitter demon with no friends. Shame, really. He could use somebody to cheer him up and bring a little love to his life, but I guess he's become too much of a loner.”

  “He seemed very sad,” I point out.

  “Honey, you don't know the half of it.”

  “Are you his friend?”

  “Me?” She smiles, but there's a hint of sadness in her eyes. “No. No, Duncan and I aren't friends. It's a little more complicated than that.”

  “So are you his -”

  “Stop!”

  She puts a hand on my shoulder and we come to a halt.

  “What is it?” I whisper, too scared to raise my voice in case there's something here that I don't want hearing me.

  Matilda puts a finger to her lips, warning me to be quiet, as she looks around. Somehow I can tell that she's holding her breath.

  Following her gaze, all I see is the rocky path we've been following around the side of the mountain, and the darkening red sky above. A moment later, however, I look back the way we came as I realize I can hear a faint but persistent scratching sound, as if something sharp is dragging against the rocks. Like a hand or a foot or a claw or a -

  “In here!”

  Grabbing my arm, Matilda pulls me off the path and behind a boulder, and then she forces me to duck down with her and crawl into a narrow gap between the boulder and the rock-face. She's really pressing hard against my shoulder.

  “What's wrong?” I whisper.

  I wait, but she doesn't answer. Instead, she seems to be listening to the scratching sound, which – if I'm not very much mistaken – seems to be coming closer.

  “Oh no,” she whispers finally, her eyes filled with fear now. “That's some bad luck, alright.”

  “What is?” I ask.

  She turns to me, and for a moment she seems genuinely terrified. And then, suddenly, she places a hand over my face, completely covering my eyes. I try to pull away, but this only makes her clamp tighter, as if she's desperate to keep me from seeing something.

  “You have to stay quiet,” she whispers suddenly, so close that I feel her hot breath in my ear. “There are things on the move out here, Milly. Things that would be very interested in a human child. If the thing on the road out there is what I think it is, I need yo
u to keep your eyes shut. Even seeing this thing could be enough to drive you insane.”

  “That's -”

  “Quiet!”

  “But -”

  “I'm trying to save your life! And your sanity!”

  I open my mouth to tell her she has to be overreacting, but then I realize I can hear a kind of wet slithering sound nearby. I turn and look toward the far edge of the nearest rock, and I can't shake the feeling that something definitely seems to be slowly coming this way along the path. As the thing gets closer, I realize I can also hear a kind of breathless huffing and puffing sound, as if the thing is out of breath, but then suddenly Matilda clamps a hand over my eyes.

  I try to pull away, but she's holding me too tight.

  “There are things here that little girls shouldn't see,” she whispers close into my ear. “Just trust me on this.”

  “But -”

  “And keep your voice down!”

  I try again to pull away, but she pushes my head back until I bump against a section of rock. I instinctively try to cry out, but her hand is way too tight over my mouth and a moment later she grabs my neck and pulls me closer still. I start trying to wriggle free, but after a few seconds I stop as I realize that the slithering huffing sound seems to be almost on top of us now. I stay completely still, although I slowly become aware of Matilda's body trembling as she holds onto me.

  She's whispering something, too.

  One word, over and over again:

  “Please.”

  I keep trying to wriggle free, even though I feel like I'm pretty tightly held. The slithering sound is getting louder and louder, and I can't believe that this thing – whatever it is – isn't directly on us by now. I feel as if I'm going to feel something brushing against me at any moment. And then, very slowly, the sound seems to start moving away, as if the thing is heading past us and continuing along the path.

  I try to peer around Matilda's hand, or through the fingers, but I can't see anything at all. I can still feel her shivering, however, until finally after a few more minutes she lets out a long, slow breath and moves her hand away.