One Night at a Soul Auction

by Amy Cross

  As soon as she lets go of my shoulder, I clamber forward and peer around the side of the rock. I can see the path, and I think there's a faint slimy trail running along the ground, but there's no sign of whatever just came by this way. I look into the distance, but I still can't see anything, and finally I turn back to Matilda.

  “What was it?” I ask.

  “You don't need to know.”

  “But I want to know!”

  “Tough.” She gets to her feet and starts dusting herself down. She seems a little uncomfortable, and when she glances at me I can still see fear in her eyes. “What?” she snaps.

  “What was that thing?” I ask.

  I wait, but she looks as if she genuinely doesn't know how to explain.

  “There are things here,” she says finally, “that you really can't be allowed to see.”

  “Why not?”

  “You're a child,” she continues. “You're a little girl.”

  “I'm ten!”

  “Exactly.”

  “I don't mind seeing bad things,” I tell her. “How bad can it be, anyway? My brother once cut his hand really badly, he had to go to hospital, and I saw that! I was fine.”

  “There are things that'd drive you completely insane,” she replies, “within less than a second. That thing that just came past, for example, was called a Gyre. Humans don't tend to cope too well with seeing them, they tend to lose their minds pretty fast. I can't even describe a Gyre to you, except to say that its eyes are its teeth and its teeth are its eyes and it collects hearts from its victims and plugs them into its own body so it can gain strength. Some Gyres have over five thousand hearts by the time they're mature, ranging from little hearts they stole from mice to big hearts from elephants and even whales. They drag those hearts around and...”

  Her voice trails off for a moment, and then she comes over and places her hands on my shoulders.

  “The point is,” she continues, “what I just described to you is the part that won't drive you mad. But if you'd seen that Gyre as it went past, you'd be a gibbering, frothing wreck on the ground by now.”

  She reaches out and moves some strands of hair from across my face, tucking them behind my ear, and then she offers a smile that seems stuck halfway between happy and sad.

  “And then,” she adds with a sigh, “you'd be no use to anyone, would you?”

  “So how old do I have to be before I can look at a Gyre?” I ask.

  “Best not to. Ever. Trust me.”

  “Have you ever looked at one?”

  She hesitates, before nodding.

  “So how come you're alright?” I ask.

  “I'm not entirely human,” she replies, before taking a step back. “Anyway, who said I'm alright? Just 'cause I'm pretty, that doesn't mean I'm not messed up inside.”

  “Yes, but -”

  “And now we really oughta be getting along,” she explains, even though she still doesn't seem completely happy. “By the way, little girl... I really hope you're not going to keep asking questions the whole way, 'cause I get really bored when I have to provide answers. There's a lot in this world that you can't understand, so I'd strongly suggest that you go with the flow and just kinda accept your limitations. Soon you'll be gone from here, and then you can tell yourself it was some kind of Narnia-like dream, and you can get on with your life.”

  She steps around me and heads back over to the path. Supposing that I have no choice if I want to find my way home, I make my way after her, although I still feel as if I'm being talked down to rather a lot. I mean, I'm ten years old so I'm not a complete idiot, and I'm certain that Matilda is protecting me too much.

  “Can I ask one more question?” I say finally, as we set off along the path. “What's -”

  Suddenly my feet slip from under me. I try to steady myself but I'm too late, and my legs fly up above my body just before I slam down hard against the rocky ground. Letting out a cry of pain, I roll onto my side, but I quickly realize that nothing's broken. I also realize, however, that I'm in some kind of pale, cold goo, which I suppose is what was left behind by the Gyre creature that passed this way.

  “Oh yeah,” Matilda says, unable to hide her sense of amusement, “I should have reminded you. Watch where you step. Gyre slime can be like ice.”

  Chapter Seven

  “What is this place?” I ask, stopping suddenly as I see the vast swarm of people ahead. “I thought you were taking me back to my aunt's house?”

  Matilda stops and turns to me, but I can only stare past her at the hundreds and hundreds of people who are noisily milling about in this huge cave. After following Matilda along a narrow stone corridor for what felt like forever, I've suddenly stumbled out at the edge of what looks like some kind of huge gathering. There are big people and small people, loud people and quiet people, people dressed in rags and people covered in thick robes with hoods that hide their faces. The sound is immense as people shout and yell at one another, and the smell is so overpowering that I actually take a step back until I bump against the rocky wall.

  I've never seen so many people all at once.

  I mean, I've heard about cities, and I've even seen pictures of a few. This place clearly isn't a city, or at least it's not like any of the cities I've ever seen, but the noise is so crazy that I instinctively put my hands over my ears. I just want to go back to my aunt's house in the countryside, and then I want to go back to the nice little village where we live, and I never want to be around so many people again for as long as I live.

  “Hey!” Matilda says, raising her voice a little so she can be heard as she comes back over to me. She reaches out, waiting for me to take her hand. “Come on, don't be scared. It's just a market! You've been to a market before, haven't you?”

  At first I can't answer. I look past her, just in time to see a tall, hooded figure walking past. He's wearing a pale cloak that covers his angular frame, but after a moment he glances down toward me and I'm just about able to make out four eyes staring at me. My own eyes widen with shock, and I keep watching the figure even as he turns away from me and walks off into the crowd. And then, a moment later, Matilda snaps her fingers in front of my face and I turn to her, and then she forces my hands away from my ears.

  “Hey,” she says with a sigh, “don't you know it's rude to stare? And don't freak out on me, kid, not when we're so close.”

  “Close to my aunt's house?” I reply, feeling a rush of hope. “Are we? Do you promise?”

  “Sure, kid. Sure.” She takes my hand. “That's good news, right? 'Cause you want to go home.”

  “I don't get how it can have taken so long to find my way back,” I mutter as Matilda leads me through the crowd. “I can't have fallen that far down the hole.”

  “Holes are deceptive sometimes,” she mutters.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means sometimes you don't realize how far you've fallen until you've been at the bottom for a while.” She coughs briefly. “Damn, I hate it when I'm accidentally profound.”

  I don't have time to ask another question, because suddenly I'm bumped by something large that's lumbering past us. I look up and see a large, fleshy face staring down at me, and I can't stop staring at the long pink tendrils that hang down from the man's chin. Before I even have time to take that in, however, I'm bumped by somebody else, and I turn to see a normal-looking grinning down at me. As she passes, however, she starts to smile, and I'm horrified to see that she has a third eyeball in her mouth, and that this eyeball is twitching and blinking furiously.

  I have a headache.

  “Matilda,” I stammer, “what -”

  Suddenly I'm bumped again.

  “Ow!” I shout, but I don't see who hit me this time. It's almost as if I slammed into something invisible.

  A moment later I spot a stall nearby, with chunks of meat sizzling on black frying pans. There's a spicy smell in the air, and I see a hand-painted sign about the stall.

  “What's Tenderling
meat?” I ask, before turning back to Matilda as she continues to lead me through the crowd. “Matilda? What's a Tenderling?”

  “Something that you don't need to worry about.”

  “But -”

  “You're doing that thing, Milly.”

  “What thing?”

  “Asking too many questions.”

  “But what -”

  “Watch out!”

  Suddenly she grabs me by the waist and hauls me up, lifting me above the crowd and then swinging me around just as I hear a loud scuttling sound coming from below. Looking down, I spot several large millipede-type things scurrying across the rocky ground, slipping effortlessly between the legs of people in the market. Once the last of them is gone, Matilda lowers me back down and lets go of my waist, although she seems a little startled.

  “Sorry,” she says, “some of those can be poisonous. For humans.”

  “But what -”

  “And here we are!”

  Pulling me through another section of the crowd, she suddenly leads me between two makeshift huts and through to a small clearing that at least isn't filled with strange creatures. Instead, I find myself standing at the edge of a grassy patch, and a little further ahead there's another, larger hut with a metal door on the front. I can't help but notice a horrible, rusty smell in the air, and a moment later I feel the ground shifting slightly beneath my feet, as if the grass is resting atop a layer of squelching mud. I don't like being here, but at least we're a little way away from the more crowded area, so I guess I can get used to this spot.

  Looking around, I try to spot some kind of opening or tunnel that'll lead home.

  “Where are we?” I ask cautiously, unable to shake the feeling that this can't possibly be the way back to my aunt's house. “I thought you said -”

  “It's just a small detour,” Matilda replies, as if she'd anticipated the question. She looks around, almost as if she's nervous. “You can't start a journey if you don't have everything you're gonna need. Right?”

  “Start a journey?” I ask. “Haven't we started it already?”

  “Of course we have. We just need a few things before we keep going.”

  “But -”

  “You've gone on outings before, haven't you?”

  “Yes, but -”

  “And didn't your mother pack sandwiches before you left?”

  “Well... Yes, but -”

  “So that's what we're doing. We're packing sandwiches. Metaphorically. Or rather I am, and you're being a good little girl and not bugging me all the time. Aren't you?”

  As she says those words, a curtain twitches slightly in one of the windows of the larger hut, and I think I spot a face briefly looking out at us. Matilda clearly notices the same thing, and she chooses that moment to let go of my hand and step in front of me, spoiling my view.

  “Who was that?” I ask, feeling a little nervous. “Does somebody live here?”

  “Somebody does live here,” she replies, scratching her scarred wrist for a moment before turning to me. “Somebody lives everywhere, if you think about it. I want you to wait right here, Milly, okay? Don't go anywhere, not for any reason. You're only safe if you're standing right where you are now in this exact spot. I'll be back real soon.”

  “Back?” I ask, horrified by the suggestion. “Are you going somewhere?”

  “I just have to pop in there,” she explains, nodding toward the larger hut, “and speak to someone about something. It's very important but I'll be very quick. I'll only be a few minutes.”

  “Why can't I come in with you?”

  “You just can't.”

  “But -”

  “Toxic gas.”

  “What?”

  She crouches down in front of me.

  “You know what farts are?”

  I immediately start giggling.

  “So you do.” She rolls her eyes. “The guy in that hut is lovely. He's a friend of mine, a real charmer. The only problem is, his farts -”

  I giggle again.

  “His farts,” she continues with a sigh, “are lethal to humans. Absolutely toxic. So that's why you've got to stay out here. Understand?”

  “I suppose so,” I reply, still smiling for a moment before noticing something odd that she just said. “But if humans can't go in there, how come you can go in?”

  “Everything's going to be just fine,” she adds, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I promise. Everything's going to be fine, and you're just going to be a brave little girl for a few minutes while I go inside and make some arrangements. There's absolutely nothing to worry about so I don't want you to fret about anything. Just stand here and wait for me, and when I come out you'll understand it all.”

  “Is there going to be something to understand?” I ask.

  She squeezes my shoulder before letting go and turning away. I watch as she heads toward the hut, and I see the curtain twitching again. It's clear that someone has noticed our arrival, and that the someone is waiting for Matilda. I'm still thinking about how many times she talked about farts just now, which was pretty funny, but at the same time I don't like being left here alone. And then, when Matilda steps into the hut and disappears from view, I feel a sudden poke of fear in my chest as I realize that I'm out here alone by myself.

  After a moment, I look down at the grass and see my own shadow.

  For a few seconds, I manage to trick myself into pretending that I'm back at home. After all, I've seen my own shadow on the grass hundreds of times, in our back garden or in the park or in the forest near my school. The point is, right now, I can't see any of the weird things that are all around me, and I feel a soothing relief as I try to make myself think that I'm safe. In the back of my mind, I know I'm only fooling myself, but at least I feel a little better. Even the weird noises from nearby don't seem so distracting, not as long as -

  Suddenly something blocks the light of the sun, just for a second.

  I instinctively look up, and I'm shocked to see some kind of large bird flashes across the sky, flying in vast loops. As I watch, however, I realize that this creature can't be a bird at all. For one thing, it's clearly much too big. For another, its wings are hinged on the top edge and there's some kind of tail trailing behind the creature's long, thin body. I watch the creature for a few more seconds, marveling at the way it flies, but then I feel a rush of panic and I look back down at my shadow on the grass.

  There.

  That's better.

  Whatever that thing was in the sky, it was unlike anything I've ever seen before. In fact, it looked a little bit like a dragon, and right now I'd much rather see a sparrow than a dragon.

  I hesitate, and then I can't help but glance up.

  The dragon – or whatever it was – is gone.

  Phew.

  “Are you Milly?” a gruff voice asks suddenly.

  Startled, I begin to turn just as a rough hand grabs my shoulder. Looking up, I see a large man towering over me, silhouetted against the sky. I have to squint a little to see his features, but finally I'm able to make out what looks like hundreds and hundreds of warts and boils all over his grinning face. He looks so horrible, I instinctively take a step back, only for his grip to tighten on my shoulder.

  “Yeah, you're her,” he mutters. “Nothing stinks quite like human.”

  I try to slip away from him, but he reaches down and grabs me hard.

  “Hey!” I shout. “Stop!”

  He hauls me up from the grass and turns, starting to carry me across the clearing.

  “Matilda!” I yell, looking toward the hut as I wriggle as hard as possible, desperately trying to get loose. “Matilda, help!”

  “You're shouting for the wrong person there,” the man chuckles. “What do you think she's going to do, have a change of heart?”

  I open my mouth to call out again, but suddenly I see the door to the hut opening. I feel a rush of relief as soon as I see that Matilda is coming out.

  “He's picked me up!” I shou
t, although I suppose she can already see that. “Matilda! Help!”

  As soon as she looks at me, however, I see that she looks much sadder than before.

  “Where do you want this one?” the man asks as he stops at the edge of the hut, just as another, larger wart-covered man emerges next to Matilda. “Should I put her with the rest?”

  “Matilda, where are we going?” I call out, as she starts counting some shiny rocks in her hands. “Matilda, how do I get home? Where's the way home?”

  The man starts carrying me away, but at the last moment I manage to reach out and grab a railing that runs along the hut's side.

  “Matilda!” I yell. “What's the quickest way home?”

  “Sorry, Milly,” she replies, with a hint of tears in her eyes. “The one good thing about this place is that you're gonna grow up real fast.”

  “What -”

  Before I can finish, I'm pulled away from the railing and carried around the side of the hut. Realizing that Matilda isn't coming, I scream her name, but a wart-covered hand suddenly clamps tight over my mouth. As I struggle to get free, I hear a loud wooden thud, and I turn just in time to see that the man has opened a hatch in the ground. I feel a blast of icy air blowing up from the darkness, and then I scream again as the man holds me out and throws me down into the void.

  Chapter Eight

  “Who are you?”

  “What's your name?”

  “Where do you come from?”

  “What's it like up there?”

  “Have you seen the sun?”

  Scrambling to my feet in pitch darkness, I immediately feel a sharp pain in my ankle. Just about managing to stay upright, I turn and look around, but I can't see anything at all. I can hear voices, though. Lots and lots of voices, most of them sounding like little girls around my age, although I can only make out what they're saying as they briefly drift closer.

  “Is it still warm up there?”

  “Did you hear music?”

  “Have you seen my mother? She should be back any time now.”