“Wait, what?” the man asked. He pointed to the pouch. “You didn’t say anything about important artifacts. That’s got half a pound of whisper in it, some grounded wormwood, and—”
“I knew it!” Yephi exclaimed, hopping on the balls of her feet. “You’ve been sneaking in heaps of drugs into the castle.”
“Taa, you could be imprisoned for that,” Iris said, in a much more serious tone. “Whisper. Right in the palace. Father would throw a fit if he found out. He’s been talking about it with Mother for ages. It’s no good.”
“Hush child,” Taa said, shaking her head. “It’s just a tiny bit to help the sleep.”
The man turned to Taa, frowning in confusion. “A tiny bit? If my memory serves me correct, you said you wanted enough to knock a bull mammoth out from right—”
“All right, Chadd, it’s really time to go,” Taa interrupted. “Far too late. Eio is about to peak.” She nudged my door to open it a few more inches. “Okay girls, I’ll meet you inside. He was just leaving. Let me walk him out.”
“Unless any of you are looking to purchaseeee something,” Chadd sung, eyeing the three of us with delight. “Then I’d have a terrific excuse to stay a bit longer.” He lifted a palm to his waist, then bent to the left in a sideways bow, tiptoeing on one foot. His mullet slid against his hood, sending curls of green hair tumbling down his right side. “Chadd Cookem. Humble world citizen, gatherer of forbidden secrets, founder of lost heirlooms, and merchant of all things that violate imperial code, city law, and good conscience.” He bent forward and peered down the hallway. “You won’t see me in royal palaces often, I admit, but I make exceptions for customers who buy in bulk.”
Merciful gods, what kind of name is Chadd Cookem? I thought.
“Merciful gods, what kind of name is Chadd Cookem?” Yephi shouted.
“Did your parents know you were going to sell drugs when you were older?” Iris asked.
“They’re too young for you to sell anything to,” Taa broke in. She extended her hand out in front of Iris and Yephi, trying to hold them back with her staff.
“Not at all!” Chadd smiled, then took his right hand and motioned in front of him, drawing a straight line with a flat palm. “Got no standards. Women, men, young children, elderly men, woman with child—”
“What have you got?” Yephi asked, crossing her arms. “Let’s take a look.”
“Ahhh, there we go!” Chadd beamed. “You’ve got to be curious to live life to the fullest. Throw precaution to the wind, I say.”
Taa waved an alarmed hand in front of him. “No, no, no! Nothing for this one. Too wild as it is.”
“What about chocolate then?” Chadd asked, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. “Everybody loves chocolate!” He swung open both sides of his cloak. “You’ve got to want some chocolate!”
“What in Yuweh’s name,” I said with a gasp.
There was chocolate. Three small pieces in pockets stitched next to the shoulders on each side of his cloak, but they were hardly the most noticeable things in his possession. Hanging on the different threads and nails of his cloak was a collection of more than two-dozen small weapons. Daggers, switchblades, knives, stilettos, skeans, dirks, and cutlasses of various sizes, shapes, and colors. If he moved his cloak, they didn’t tilt or turn. They clung to the black fur lining the inside of his wool coat as though trying to steal its warmth. There were wooden daggers, dappled with spots of light and color like they were reflecting the rays of an invisible sun. There were metal dirks, serrated on both sides in crisscross patterns like a sculpting knife. There were stilettos shaped from colored stone, with edges that shimmered in the colors of sapphires and amethysts. There were even flat and blunt weapons that looked like they could be used to cleave meat.
Both Iris and Yephi rolled their heads forward, arms extended like they were trying to feel through an invisible barrier. Fire gleamed off their grey eyes, reflecting the different colors of the knives in colder shades as their attention flitted from weapon to weapon.
“Whoaa…” Iris whispered. Her voice trailed off as she extended a finger to touch one of the wooden blades.
“Careful now,” Chadd said, taking a step backward. “Those aren’t for children. Look at the chocolates I’ve got at the top instead. He dangled his arms, shaking the top of his cloak in a lighthearted manner.
“Not for children,” Taa muttered. “Hah!”
Yephi shot a hand out—so quick her glove shuddered against the air, no more than a silent pulse of movement that covered two feet of space in the breadth of a breath. She grabbed one of the switchblades and pulled it out of Chadd’s cloak, throwing it into her other hand before he noticed she had moved.
“Too fast for you Cookem!” Taa howled. Her voice carried her amusement down the hall, where a passing guard momentarily glanced in our direction.
“Hey, give that to me!” Chadd croaked. He slapped a hand out to take the knife back. Yephi swung the switchblade toward his fingers, spinning it against the end of her thumb until the front part of the blade flipped out, stopping less than a hair’s width from Chadd’s skin just as she caught it between her grip. He jumped back, swallowing his hand into the sleeve of his cloak. Yephi spun the blade the other direction, flipping out the backside of the knife.
One side of the double switchblade was a knife made of solid gold; the other side was a knife made of a mirror-like metal, so polished I could see my reflection on its surface without even a ripple of my appearance displaced by its crooked shape. The hilt was the matte black of obsidian, curved to let you easily flip it between fingers and palms. It was a weapon designed for easy handling, but the flexibility of its shape didn’t compromise the lethality of its edges.
Yephi pulled the blade back, repeating the same flipping motion twice. Silver and gold edges twisted, turned, and danced between her fingers in satisfying clicks as she flipped one side out and pushed another back in, hands moving as smoothly as a card gambler’s.
Chadd frowned, but the right corner of his lip pulled into a smile. “Who taught you how to do that?” he asked.
Yephi looked up at Taa, a mischievous grin stealing the innocence of her expression.
“It’s nothing spectacular,” Iris said, rolling her eyes. “She’s just showing off.”
“The speed?” Chadd asked. “Not natural.”
“All natural,” Yephi proclaimed, shaking her head. “Hatharee, god of speed, once came to me in a vision—”
“It’s alchemy,” Iris cut in matter-of-factly. She held a fist up. “Alchemy of earth for strength.” She pushed her arm out and pulled it back in, the sound of it snapping against the sleeve of her dress. Tiny rips opened up at the edges of her glove. “Alchemy of water to heat your body. Combine them, and you get speed.”
“Oh, I know that,” Chadd said. “Just didn’t think you were old enough for that kind of magic.” He glanced at Taa. “They take after you, then?”
Taa considered for a moment, then spoke with a distant look. “They take after Anasahara.” She stroked the space in front of her head. Another one of her strange habits.
“Twice the side effects,” Chadd absently remarked, watching Yephi continue to play with the switchblade. “You’ll get the chills from the water alchemy, and you’ll be tired from the earth.”
“Didn’t need a lot,” Yephi said, shrugging. She held the switchblade between two fingers, gently pushing it up and down like she was testing its weight. “I’ll take this one, then.”
“And I’ll take that one,” Iris said. She pointed to a wooden dagger hanging at the far right side of Chadd’s cloak. She looked up to stare at him with serious eyes, a practiced look that said she was trying to be more civilized than her sister, but wasn’t above Yephi’s more crude approach.
Chadd took the dagger out and handed it to her. The body of the knife was a brew of red and orange paints, blending together in sunset hues like an aimless mix of autumn colors. There were spirals of red with spl
ashes of orange shades inside of them, bars of orange with red spots inside of them, and then both colors running together along the edges of the sinuous blade in long, luminescent waves that were shaped like the peaks of sand dunes. The designs were drawn (or carved, I couldn’t tell which) to look three-dimensional under the light. The entire weapon was a little less than a foot long. The hilt was made of the same wood, polished to gleam as brightly as the blade. It bulged on one side to make it easier to grip. The other side had an engraving in Hulna. In Wood, We Soak Blood. Iris fingered the engraving, feeling it between her thumb and forefinger, before flipping the weapon onto the back of her hands to try and feel out its center of gravity with her knuckles.
“Wood. Good for taking out vampires,” Chadd said. “Would sear through their flesh like the holy spirits themselves. Could take out their hearts better than any stake ever could. The weapon was crafted by an alchemical smith in Mimenhi. Best maker of wooden blades I’ve ever seen. Local legend. Luienal Chernun. Man’s family was taken by vampires three decades ago. During a blue moon nonetheless. He’s been devoted to his craft ever since.” He pointed to the weapon. “Can’t make a beauty like that unless you’ve sacrificed everything for your art. Its name is Jupiter’s Agony. After the colors and shades. Looks just like the surface of the planet. Star gazer in Xenash once told me it was accurate, too.”
Iris looked down at the dagger, gripping it tighter but with more care.
“Amazing,” Yephi whispered. “What about mine?! Tell me this one!” She held her switchblade out to Chadd, cupping it between her palms like she was looking for a blessing.
“Don’t know the origins of that one,” Chadd said, rubbing his chin in the cleft of his middle finger. “Knew its last three owners, but couldn’t tell you where it’s from or who made it. Wouldn’t be surprised if the smith were someone renowned though. Master craftsmanship in that one.” He glanced down at his cloak, yanking at the ends of his sleeves for a better look at his collection. “In all of these, really. I wouldn’t carry a blade ‘less it would sell for more than a few gold barons.”
Yephi’s expression darkened.
“Those are Sepinmilla letters,” I said, pointing two fingers at the two ends of the switchblade. “There’s one letter engraved on the golden knife, another on the silver one.”
Chadd leaned forward, studying the blade more closely. “Hmm… good eyes,” he remarked. “That’s a rare kind of silver, and a rare kind of gold. Both alchemical compounds. Silver never gets so smooth, and gold never hard enough to make a weapon. Think the silver must have been forged in the glass mountains. Mixed with the metal sands on their eastern slopes. Hard to say with the gold.”
“What do the engravings say?” Yephi asked, biting on her lower lip in anticipation.
“It doesn’t really say anything,” I replied. “Not a phrase at least. It’s the names of the moons. The letter on the golden side is the Sepinmilla symbol for Glacies. The one on the silver side is Eio.”
“Would make sense, that,” Chadd said, nodding. “The blade is meant to be used against the children of the moon. Most people don’t know you could use both silver and gold to kill a werewolf. You just don’t see too many gold weapons. It’s a way to be flashy, I suppose. Looks like it’ll suit you well.” He winked at Yephi.
Taa lifted a finger. “More to that than you think.”
“Does it have a name at least?” Yephi asked, hopeful once again.
“Oh… yes, it has that—” Chadd began.
“What is it?!” Yephi shouted. “The Silver and Gold Daemon? The Double Headed Beast?! Wolf’s Bane?!”
Chadd gritted his teeth, chewing emptily. “Errr... not quite.” He looked toward his other daggers, as though hoping to borrow one of their names for the occasion. “It’s called… Four-Fingers.”
Yephi looked at Chadd, then at Taa, then at Iris’s blade, then finally turned back to Chadd, her expression growing more sullen after every glance.
“What kind of a name… is Four-Fingers.” She stared down at the switchblade, not in disappointment but in sympathy. “It’s so beautiful. It deserves something better than that.”
“Ahh… ha-ha-ha,” Taa cackled, deepening her voice at every ha like the name was getting funnier by the second.
Chadd winced, looking down at the switchblade like he was reconsidering his choice to sell it. His right hand reached around to a side pocket. He cupped its contents, weighing the coins inside. “Well, its last three owners… you see…” He lost his words in thought, then paused in silence for several seconds. “Hmmm… how to best put it?” He took a finger and drew an arched line in front of Yephi. “The real talent of that blade is its speed. How quickly it can move between the fingers.” He pointed to one of his brows, then the other. “How quickly it can find its way to an eye socket.” A wry smile broke out across his face. “Its last three owners… their fingers weren’t as quick as the blade. You get it? And they liked to play around with it a lot, just like you.”
Yephi squinted her eyes. She switched between the silver and gold sides, less than a heartbeat passing between the two knives.
Chadd’s eyes followed her motions, his expression unreadable.
Taa hummed to herself, looking at the two blades as she tried to figure out what her granddaughter’s choices said about them.
“Well, pay the man,” Yephi said, pointing to Chadd with the hilt of the switchblade. The gold knife stuck out to face her. She studied the metal with meticulous eyes, brushing the edges with careful fingers.
Taa groaned, the sound coming out so harsh she might have been grinding something in her throat. “How much?” she asked, lip curling.
“Forty.” Chadd said. He kept his expression solemn, but in his eyes you could see the hint of a pawnbroker’s grin.
“I’ve not got any iron coins on me,” Taa said, feeling through her shawl. “Change for a baron?”
“Forty gold barons,” Chadd said. He looked away toward the walls, then began mumbling to himself. “Thought it was clear from what I had just said. Wants to give me iron coins for the effort I put in getting those.”
Taa began to laugh wickedly. She continued for a half minute, shrieking and shouting until her breath ran out. Chadd stepped forward to interrupt. Taa raised a hand to his face, took in a deep breath, then doubled down on her laugh. She paused to take a breath every few seconds in between her cackling so she could go on for longer this time. After a minute or two, the laugh died down into a second coughing fit. She hit herself on her back with her staff till she was able to calm her lungs.
“Thought you said forty gold barons,” Taa wheezed. “Old age. Hearing’s not what it used to be.”
“Yes, I can see that,” Chadd grumbled. He felt through his side pocket again, counting his coins between his fingers. He looked reflective, as though trying to figure out how badly he needed Taa’s money and how long he could hold out for. “Yes, yes, you must have heard wrong. I said thirty-five gold barons, not forty.”
Taa glanced at Iris and Yephi. They were both pouting, holding on desperately to the hilts of their blades. They wouldn’t be letting go without a fight.
“All right, all right,” Taa said, her voice sounding resigned. She reached into her shawl. “Five gold barons it is.”
“For an old friend, I’ll bargain it down to thirty,” Chadd sighed. “Can’t go any lower than that I’m afraid. I’ve got to at least break even. I’ll take five off the switchblade, since I don’t know the origins.”
“You will not!” Yephi shouted. “My blade will not be less expensive than hers.” She narrowed her eyes at Iris.
“Why not?” Iris asked casually. “I’ve always had better taste. Thought you’d be used to it by now.”
“Pay the man his thirty-five barons,” Yephi demanded, locking eyes with Taa.
Taa muttered angrily underneath her breath as she pulled out a heap of gold barons. “Back in my day… had to use fingernails… teeth… children now... dagger
s of gold and jewels.”
She passed thirty-five gold barons to Chadd, taking her time to check each one in the light as though to make sure she wasn’t handing over a sunstone mark by accident. It was hard to say how she could carry so much money in her shawl without the coins making noise as she moved about, but they never did.
“What about the chocolate?” Yephi asked. “You’ll give them to us for free. I’ve paid you enough as it is.”
“You’ve paid him?” Taa grumbled.
“Yes, yes, I suppose I can do that,” Chadd said, reaching into the top of his cloak.
“Absolutely not,” Taa griped. “Those are hard chocolates, not soft. I’ve seen more than one child in my time choke on them. Keep them away. Children shouldn’t play with such dangerous things.”
Yephi threw a hand up. “But—”
“Will you shut up?” Iris whispered. “We can do without the chocolate. Your teeth are already yellow as it is. We’ll end up losing our daggers with all your bickering.”
Yephi scowled.
“Nothing for you, young queen?” Chadd asked.
I shook my head. “Not really a blade person. I’m curious about that one though.” I pointed to a nearly hidden dagger on the side of his belt.
“Good eyes, indeed,” Chadd said, moving to cover the dagger with his cloak while taking a step back from Yephi. “I’m afraid that one’s not for sale. Just delivering it for an old friend.”
“I’ll pay a gold baron just to see it,” I said.
Chadd raised a brow.
I lifted my right hand up, the palm facing him. I shook it quickly, and with a flourish, flipped it around and showed him a gold baron stuck between two of my knuckles.
“You just made a gold baron?!” Yephi gasped. “Out of thin air?!”
“She didn’t make a gold baron you idiot,” Iris said. “It was probably in her sleeve or something.” She tiptoed, trying to look under my sleeve.
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