by Jen Ponce
I did, despite not liking strangers getting so close to me. As soon as the stones touched my skin, a tension I didn't even know I had in my body eased. I touched it with my fingers in wonder. “There's no such thing as magic.”
“Of course there is. It's just harder to find when you don't believe.”
As if in a dream, I pulled my money from my pocket and counted out three twenties. I glanced back at the ring, gnawing on my lip as I did. “What is that thing?”
Her lips thinned. “An assassin's ring.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the case as if she wanted to take the ring and throw it.
“Why do you keep it if you don't like it?”
Her pale grey eyes looked troubled. “Sometimes we are charged with responsibility we don't want but must bear. That is my responsibility until its rightful owner comes to claim it.”
I nodded. I understood about responsibility even if I didn't understand what it had to do with a ring.
A scream cut through the muted buzz of the marketplace. Terror rang out farther down the alley, the yell cut short in a way that made chills shiver across my skull. In seconds panicked shoppers were stampeding past us, a confusion of bodies pushing and shoving as they tried to escape—what?
The woman touched my arm. “You must leave. Now.” She gave me a gentle push toward the door as a woman's voice rang out.
“This is neutral territory, Yarnell. You are in violation of the Council's Accords.”
“I don't accept the Accords, witch, because we were not invited to have a say.” The man's words thrummed through the air. I could taste the power in them even though I didn't know how I knew what power tasted like.
“You are criminals. You lost your rights when you chose to steal humans to fuel your magic.”
A blast of light and sound ended the conversation. The woman's hand was on my back. “Go. To your right. Run.”
“What's going on? I could call the police,” I said, fumbling for my cell as I left the shop. A wiry girl with dreadlocks grabbed my arm, dragging me toward the fighting.
“Stop it, Ivy,” said the jewelry seller. The girl—Ivy—thrust her hand at the woman, who flew threw the air as if in the wake of an explosion.
“Fuck off, Marantha.” She turned to me and my shock made me easy to grab. She dragged me a few feet toward the voices and the shouting before I woke up from my shock.
“Let me go,” I said, grunting as I yanked at my arm. Her fingernails dug in so I shifted and kicked her in the knee. She shrieked and shoved me into a wall, knocking the wind out of me with the force of it. How could someone so small be so strong? She was doubled over, her hand on her knee. I didn't have time to catch my breath. I balled my fist and swung, connecting with her jaw. She reeled back, catching her heel on an uneven cobble.
“Quit jacking around, Ivy.” A man with a misshapen head flung his hands outward in my direction. A blaze of blue energy sprung up around me. What the hell? I touched it, only to yank my hand back at the manic buzzing that vibrated up to my shoulder.
Dreadlocks righted herself, then stalked toward the barrier. She spat at me and I jerked back in reflex, but the spit hit the barrier between us and sizzled. “Stupid cow. When they take you to slaughter, I'm buying your head.” Then the alley filled with more people, shouting or fighting, some dragging others behind them. I lost Dreadlocks in the crowd as people surged around the bubble I was trapped in.
The barrier flashed and the kid in Nikes rolled to a stop at my feet, joined immediately by another person with bright red hair. He had a lump on his head, his eyes shut and his dark skin pallid. She sobbed, her arms wrapped tight around her body. “Are you okay?” She didn't have time to answer before another scream had us both jerking around. A woman with curly brown hair stood a few feet away, holding brilliant points of light in her hands. For a crazy moment I wondered if she was the big bad scary in my vision but she didn't look terrifying. Terrified, maybe.
It didn't take me long to realize she was the underdog. The asshole outclassed her and sent wave after wave of pulsing light at her. Magic? I squeezed my head between my palms as I watched. Had to be hallucinations, but it looked so real. Wherever the pulses of light hit, flames burst to life and then the acrid smell of smoke added to the tableau before me. It had to be real—it couldn't be real.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Dreadlocks sneaking up behind the underdog. The knife in her hand glinted in the light of a nearby lantern. I shouted out a warning, too late. Dreadlocks buried the knife in the woman's side with a scream of triumph. Her last volley flew wide as she fell. Her eyes, glowing purple in the dark shadows, met mine.
The man flung the last bit of energy into the air, then strode to the fallen woman and gazed down at her, a smile on his face. “You've fallen so far, Arsinua. Tell me, did you enjoy your time in the Slip?” He laughed at something he saw on her face. “Oh yes, I know about your last gambit to wrest power from my people. Failed miserably, didn't it?” He nudged her with his boot, cursing at her when she didn't respond. “Take her and the cows back to the Bazaar. Round up anyone else stupid enough to stick around.” He nodded once to Dreadlocks then disappeared into the gloom.
I shoved at our prison wall, ignoring the creepy feeling it gave me, but it did no good. Immovable as a brick wall. Behind me the girl whimpered. I whirled on her. “Get up and help me. Can't you see that they want to hurt us?” She looked too shell-shocked to respond but I hectored her until she staggered to her feet. “Push!” It didn't give.
Fear grew hot and thick in my stomach. The realization that if I didn't get away soon I would never see my kids again hit me and for a long, terrifying moment I couldn't breathe. Beside me, the woman hit the barrier between us and freedom, her cries coming in sharp, high shrieks of fear.
Then we were surrounded by the attackers and the energy keeping us contained disappeared with a snap of sound. One of them pulled a severed head from a bag and my knees gave out on me. Dreadlocks laughed. “That will be your head next, cow.” Her fingers curled tight in my hair as she jerked me back up. A flash of light hid what came next.
TWO
We were chained together in a dirty tent: Underdog, Nikes, the redhead and I. Beyond the gray canvas, a marketplace hummed with commerce though the shoppers looked like ghouls. I'd caught glimpses of the wares for sale as Dreadlocks and her gang dragged us through the busy aisles. Hands. Fingers. Worse things that set my stomach rolling. The underlying smell of death didn't help, nor did the raucous laughter or bartering over body parts. After they left us chained, a crowd gathered around the entrance, people—and things that only resembled people—staring and making bets on how long we would survive. I kept myself from sobbing, just, thankful when an older woman shooed them away and shut the tent flaps.
Despite her injuries, they'd chained the woman to me, the pool of blood under her widening even with my shirt pressed tight against her wound. My hands were sticky with blood, the right one still throbbing from the first punch I'd ever thrown in my life. “I wish I had some water to give you.”
She shook her head, her face pale.
“Can you at least tell me what happened? What all that was back there? What did they do with that head to get us here?” My voice rose, hysteria only barely held in check. I carefully kept thoughts of my children locked tight at the back of my mind. If I started thinking about them, knowing I would probably die in this dirty tent, I would start screaming and never stop.
She squeezed my hand but didn't say a word.
I checked my pockets again, hoping this time I would find something useful. I'd already tried to unlock the chains with my keys but that hadn't worked. My companions weren't helpful either; they huddled together in the corner. Nikes had woken but his eyes were still glazed as if the essential, intelligent part of him was already dead. Ashen skin, with high color on their cheeks, they looked like they were in the grips of a major fever. I touched their faces but they were cool to the touch. “What's your
name?” Nikes shivered, his eyelids fluttering. Redhead whispered, “Yvonne.”
I squeezed her hand, sneaking a worried glance at the guy. “It's going to be okay, Yvonne.” In the corner, closest to Nikes, I found a dusty burlap sack that I pulled over both of them. A glowing ball rolled free of the sack and fetched up against the side of the tent. It didn't give off any heat so guessed I didn't have to worry it would set us all on fire despite the flicker of illumination inside it. “We're going to get out of here. You understand? Stay strong. We'll figure out how to escape.”
“There's no escape. Not for you,” Underdog rasped.
I jerked around. She finally spoke and it was all doom and gloom? “There's always hope.” I'd spoken those words a lot in my work with victims of violence but I'd never said them with as much force as I did right now. I repeated it too, wanting to convince her that I spoke the truth.
“Not for you,” she said again, “not unless you are willing to take on even more danger.”
There. Hope. I homed in on that. “How? How can I get us out of here?”
“Not us. You. I am dying. You all are too, in a different way.” She winced as she slipped her hand into her pocket. She pulled a heart-shaped stone free and held it out to me. The air around it shimmered, warped. Significance rolled off it in waves. My entire body shuddered. “Take this. Take it and hide it however you can. When they come to take you to slaughter, they will have to unchain you. That will be your chance.” She pressed it into my hand before I could say a word. For a millisecond I held the weight and heat of the sun and then it was just a rock in my hand.
“I won't leave without you.” My voice shook. I looked over at my shoulder at our companions. “Any of you.”
“I want to go home,” Yvonne said, her little girl voice breaking my heart.
I clenched my fingers around the stone. “We will get home. I promise.”
The flaps of the tent blew in. When they settled, a man stood there twitching, his pale face a parody of a human one. I shoved back with my legs until I hit the wall, knowing instinctively that this man, this thing, meant me harm.
“Witch.” His dead voice rattled like dry leaves in a cold, October wind. “He sent me to collect the heart.”
I flinched as if he'd hit me. Shit. My skin tight, fear making my muscles stiff, I pushed the damned rock into my shirt front, tucking it with a quick move under my left boob.
“I no longer have it. Besides, your master did not fulfill his end of the bargain.” The woman's hand shook as she drew symbols in the air.
The man's flat, expressionless eyes fell on me. I'd thought the guy with the tattoos had dead eyes. This thing was well and truly dead. “I sense it, witch, and I've been sent to collect what's rightfully his.” The words were becoming increasingly sibilant, until I could feel them slithering over my skin.
I cast about for something to defend us with and settled on the glowing ball. It fit in the palm of my hand. Shaking, I got to my feet, the chains around my ankles clanking. As the only one of our group able to stand, it fell to me to protect us all. Damn.
The man's face rippled. The top of his head ripped and black, wiry-haired things poked out of his skull. My mouth opened but nothing came out, terror freezing my words in my throat. Still the horror in front of me bloomed. Legs came out the top of him. Long legs, segmented legs, legs covered in coarse black hairs.
Yvonne started screaming as something peeled him like a banana from the inside out. When it burst free, I wished I were the fainting type. I couldn't even make my arms rise in a fruitless attempt to ward off the monster descending on me. A spider. A giant spider, its gleaming eyes pinning me to the spot like a bug as the man's skin it had worn fell to the ground like cast off pajamas.
The woman shouted and a gout of light spun at the spider. Power crashed against it, biting into its legs. Spider blood spattered me, warm and thick. The spider chittered. It was laughing and the sound shredded my composure.
“Puling weakling. You would make a good meal.” Its jaws spread wide and the spider turned to face me. “I sense the heart on this one. Give it to me, carcass.”
I cocked my arm with the glowing ball in it. “Fuck you.”
Its fangs descended, wicked sharp blades half a foot long. Venom dripped from the tips and where it landed on the floor it sizzled. I pictured the spider wrapping me tight in a web, injecting me with poison until my insides liquified and I became the world's nastiest milk shake.
“Whatever you do, don't give it the heart,” the woman whispered.
As if I had a choice. It would kill me and take it. I couldn't run, not with the chains, not knowing where to run. I also couldn't leave the rest of them behind.
“I could let you live. If you give it to me.” The words burrowed like worms in my head. The muscles in my arm trembled. I could give the heart to it, couldn't I? Give it the stone and make it go away. What did I care for this woman or her stupid heart anyway?
“Please, no,” the woman said, seeing the decision on my face. “You can't. If you care for your fellow humans, you will not give that heart to the chythraul.”
For a moment I couldn't think. I closed my eyes briefly and sent a silent plea to my children to forgive me. The spider slid a long leg out toward me. “Give it to me, carcass. I might spare you yet.”
I widened my stance and tightened my grip on the ball. “You'll have to come and get it.”
The spider screamed in rage, a sound I would forever remember in my nightmares. It charged as I swung my arm. The woman's hands sparked and she unleashed the energy as the illuminated ball connected with the spider's head.
The world exploded. I exploded. Everything became light and heat. The spider, the woman, the heart, it all came apart in front of me. How I was seeing it when I, too, had been disintegrated, I would never know. All I knew was the blast unmade me and a second implosion put me back together again. Time shorted out. Light. Everything. Before I died, I said goodbye to my kids.
Silence. Then a sharp burst of agony that thumped me solidly back in my body.
Ash fell around me like snow.
Someone was screaming.
Tremendous heat assaulted my skin. I had to get up. Had to get away from whatever was scalding me, but I couldn't remember how to move.
A dark shape loomed over me. “What a mess.” Then a hand was tangled in my hair, dragging me from the fire. I squirmed, remembering how to move. I tried to knock away the hands holding me with little success.
“Let go.” I was dragged on. Then the air shivered around me. I blinked. The ash was gone and the muddy darkness of the city sky loomed overhead. Another sharp jerk reminded me there was still a hand in my hair. “Let go,” I said, putting anger into the words and volume.
“Why of course, love. You just needed to ask.” He dropped me on the ground in a puddle that glistened with oil and smelled like death. I rolled away, gagging, my shoulder fetching up against the metal corner of a trash bin. Hard fingers gripped my chin, turning my head this way and that. The dark alley shadowed his face so I only caught the reddish gleam of his eyes.
I batted at his hand, jerking my head back at the same time to free my chin. My head banged against brick and I cursed. He laughed so I kicked at him. He caught my calf, his fingers pinching hard enough to cramp up my leg, sending a bolt of fire through the muscles.
“You are a feisty one, aren't you? I like it.” In an instant the fire blazed from pain to a lust so hot and bright I panted with it. “And responsive.”
The only thing that kept me from writhing in his arms was the ringing pain in the back of my head. I focused on that, cracking my head against the brick to bring it back in a bright red flare. When the pain overtook the lust, I said, “What do you want with me?”
“What does any man want with a woman?” His fingers trailed up my calf, leaving tingles in their wake. Heat built in places that hadn't been stoked quite so high in a long while.
“Fuck off.” I kicked at him
with my other leg but he easily brushed it aside. Then calm flooded me, as warm and relaxing as the lust had been red hot. My muscles sagged, my jaw slackened, and my head lowered to the dirty brick with a clunk. “What did you do?” My words slurred as if I'd had one too many margaritas.
“Just self-preservation, my dear.” He settled back on his haunches, his fingers still touching me, still sending waves of calm lapping through me. “You have something I want. Several somethings. I don't believe I've ever seen such a magnificent Working before, made all the more fantastic by its accidental creation.”
I wanted to be annoyed at the presumption that I had anything he wanted, but couldn't drum up the necessary emotions. “I don't even know you. How could I have anything of yours?”
His other hand swept toward me. A slight twinge of alarm at his nearness sounded somewhere deep inside, but my body wouldn't respond to the threat. He touched my stomach, flattening his hand against it. “The spider, the witch, and the rock. Boom. One giant explosion mixed with a hell of a lot of magic and voila. Not even the witch could have wrought something so special and her talent rivaled most.” He became thoughtful. “A bit on the moral side, though.”
“No such thing as magic,” I muttered, though I didn't believe that one bit. Not after the night I had.
He laughed. “Keep thinking that, if it makes you feel better. You humans are always so tiresome that way. But wait, you aren't exactly human anymore, are you?”
The alarm bells jangled louder this time. Danger, my mind screeched. “There's nothing else for me to be.” I yawned before I could stop myself.
“On that you're very wrong, but I'll forgive your ignorance. I'll even let you be for now.” He removed his hand and the calm ebbed. “Remember, the spider and the heart inside you belong to me. You stole them both, ergo, you belong to me.”
Adrenaline spiked inside me. I shoved myself off the filthy alley floor, the smell, the darkness, the horror of the evening coming out in one explosive curse. “You do not own me!”