THE BAZAAR (The Devany Miller Series)

by Jen Ponce

  "I tortured him. He wouldn't talk."

  I wanted to walk up and slap them both. Having a conversation as I was weakening, casually talking while I spent my last minutes alive fighting to hang onto the she-bitch. If only I could control her. Knock her out or better yet, command her like a puppet. Use her to distract Ravana.

  'If I jump into her, can you keep my body safe until I get back?'

  What? Of course, but what do you plan to do?

  'I don't know.' I made a hook. Maybe it wouldn't work, but the thing had said I couldn't leave. I wasn't planning to leave—

  —I saw the tunnel form in front of me and I fell into it. When I came out the other side, I was looking at myself in horror. Her horror. When she felt me inside her she went ape-shit. I tamped down on her hard. Ravana was focused on the ugly Originator but kept herself angled so she could see my body.

  Could I use the magic from the heart while inside Dreadlocks? Of course, I would give away my position and I didn't want that yet. Instead, I circled around, trying to get behind the crazy bitch goddess. I would've succeeded but for the thing and its damnable multitude of eyes.

  "What does it do now?"

  Ravana dismissed me/Ivy with a sneer. "Escaping."

  It knew I was in this body but Ravana didn't. It was more observant. Arsinua blasted Ravana with her energy balls, distracting her. I ran up behind her, both fists clenched together, trying to drown out Ivy's screaming, moaning protest of my invasion of her body. I brought my hands down hard against Ravana's neck. She stumbled forward but the blow did little good. She snatched me up by the neck faster than any vampire in any horror movie I'd seen. "What are you up to?"

  The thing on the sidelines chuckled. Ravana frowned but didn't look his way. She stared at me. I hadn't had this close a look at her and realized her eyes were empty. Oh, there was color there, but no life. Truly soulless.

  Her touch caused Ivy tremendous pain but I moved away from those pain centers and didn't feel it. Soulless. The Originators killed their souls. Why? Why did they do that?

  Just to get rid of them? Or was it because, with their souls, "they could be killed." The words came out in a croak. Ravana would break Ivy's windpipe soon—already she was clawing at Ravana's hand, unable to breathe—and I would lose my chance at a long shot idea.

  I had no clue how to do it, so I winged it, in perfect Devany fashion. Maybe it was good I didn't know the rules. If I didn't know them, I didn't have to worry whether or not I was breaking them. I plumbed Ivy's depths, looking for her essence. Her soul. Although smutty and pockmarked, I found the shining center of her. I grasped it with my mind, picturing my hands forming hooks that dug into that essence and held on.

  One of her legs kicked out. A bone snapped in her neck. Her tongue was forced from her mouth. Ravana cooed, "Soon I will drink your soul, my dear. A snack before the main course."

  I dragged Ivy's soul from her body as she died. Then I did something I would probably regret. I hooked into Ravana's body, shoving Ivy's soul into her. The vast evil of Ravana repelled me, literally tossed me from her. I slammed into my own skin, knocking myself on my ass in the dirt. Again.

  Ravana panted, staring hard at the dirt in front of her, not noticing the dead woman dangling from her hand.

  What did you do?

  I advanced on Ravana. 'I gave her a soul.' In two steps I was on her, swinging my fist with all my strength and that of Neutria's behind it. Two of my fingers broke, shattering against her cheekbone. She staggered again, Ivy landing with a dull thud at her feet.

  "I feel. I feel strange." She sounded dazed and didn't notice I'd hit her hard enough to break my own hand. "I feel wrong." She tore at herself, leaving long bloody gouges in her skin. "You." She glared, the madness reaching for me, as real as clawed fingers. "You did this to me."

  "I did." I hit her again, this time with my left hand in her stomach. I didn't hit as hard, but she doubled over, air whooshing from her lungs. With a fistful of her hair, I jerked her head hard onto my knee, the crunch of her nose making me smile grimly. "I did and now I'm going to kill you."

  She laughed, but it pitched high and revealed her fear. "You can't kill me. I'm immortal." Blood dripped from her nose into the dust, wetting it, creating rust-colored mud. "I'm immortal. I can't bleed."

  I kicked her in the stomach, cocked an elbow and brought it down hard on her neck. She dropped like a stone. Panting, I stared down at her. Sickened. I couldn't beat her to death. Could I?

  She began chanting, the words forming magic so thick and dark in the air I knew I had to kill her or face my own grisly end. I reached down, grasped her chin in my right palm and her hair in my left. 'Help me, Neutria.'

  The spider's strength surged into my arms. I screamed as I gave her head a sharp twist like I'd seen in the movies. The bones in her neck gave with a meaty crunch. Her face slackened.

  Sickened, I dropped her head and staggered back. Dead. She was dead and I'd killed her.

  No noise came from the crowd. I dared glance up through my hair at them, though too dazed to try to decipher expressions. It meant nothing.

  "So. You have won." This from the tree Skriven. Originator. Whatever the heck.

  Won. By killing someone. Right. I straightened, wincing at the pain in my fingers, in my shoulder, in my hip. In my heart. "I want to go home now."

  "One of our kind has been unmade."

  This time the crowd reacted but the murmurings were still subdued.

  I didn't give a fuck. "I want to go home."

  "A new Originator has stepped into place."

  At that moment, I understood the words were tying me, binding me. They wrapped themselves around me like chains. "No. Don't do this. I don't want it. Just let me go home." The power hummed in me, not dimmed through a connection—no, this was all mine now, so much power it made my head swim. I didn't like the feel of it inside me and I wanted to give it back, give it all back. Someone else could use it, surely. Tytan?

  But wait. I was now his superior. Ravana had been his Maker. If I took her spot, wouldn't that mean that I was—in a strange and twisted way—his mother? I chuckled soundlessly, too tired to make noise.

  "Your duties to your kind must be learned. Don't neglect them." He gestured with a gnarled limb to Medusa head. "Vasili will be your trog, as you have already claimed him as a Draw. He will teach you your duties."

  A Skriven from far back in the arena stood. “He is my spawn.”

  “It matters not, Amara.”

  She protested but I didn't give a shit. I took a step backward. "My duties are back on Earth, thanks. I'm going." I spun on my heel, pacing away from the thing so I could form a hook.

  "You will be back."

  I glanced over my shoulder at him.

  "You will be called home. And it is a call you will not be able to resist."

  Not in a million years. I stepped through the hook, resolved never to step into the Slip again.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  To say that Tytan was surprised to see me? Ha. Still feeling punch drunk from the power coursing through me, I sauntered over to him and jabbed him in the chest. Maybe a little bit too hard. It shoved him back a few steps. "I'm your boss now, buddy."

  "You unmade her."

  I nodded and then flopped on the sofa. "I snapped her neck like a twig." I stopped. "Sorry Marantha. But the bitch was evil." I remembered the crunch. Not like a twig. It was nothing like a twig. I wanted to hurl. "Now I want to go home. I want to get Lucy out and I want to go home." 'And maybe soon you'll have your own place to stay, eh Arsinua?'

  You unmade a Skriven.

  I knew you were a killer. You have the heart of a hunter.

  High praise coming from the spider. 'Thank you.'

  This might not be a good thing.

  'No raining on my parade.' I took the plate Marantha held out to me and thanked her. "Can we do this now? Please? I can't wait any longer."

  "Of course, my dear. I'll get my things."

 
Tytan scooted a chair closer to the couch and leaned in. "What exactly happened?"

  "I'm not telling. It's a secret. I will tell you that weird thing with all the eyes declared me Originator." I kept my attention on his face, wanting to see his reaction. It was delicious. He looked horrified and then, when it dawned on him that I was well and truly his boss he blanched. I nodded. "I guess you should have been nicer to me, huh?"

  He reached out and caressed my arm. "How is it you are physically present?"

  "I don't know." I waited for him to lust me up or calm me down but he did neither. I shook off his fingers. "Knock it off."

  "I helped you."

  "Yeah." I knew where his mind was headed. "Why should I help you?"

  He stood, spread his hands wide. "If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have destroyed her."

  "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here right now while a clone cares for my children. If it weren't for you, I would be home wallowing in the misery of my broken marriage, going to work, and taking care of my children." My voice rose to a shriek and I leapt off the couch at him. "So don't fuck with me and don't ask me for favors. Not now." I stepped close. "I know how to destroy you."

  He licked his lip, his expression growing hot. Holy crap. Did that kind of thing turn him on? "You need me."

  "I most certainly do not."

  He chuckled and damn it if it didn't give me shivers. "There was a crowd, wasn't there? At the challenge?"

  "Yeah. So?"

  His finger traced my collarbone. "Red suits you. I knew it would."

  "The point?" I was ignoring his finger, at least that's what I told myself. Ignoring it so that he didn't know how it affected me. Right.

  "The point. Skriven know that you can unmake them. You. Only you."

  Oh. Holy. Shit.

  I sat back down on the couch.

  Marantha popped back in, a bag looped over her shoulder as she said, "Are we ready to go?"

  I dropped my head in my hands, and then yelped at the pain in my fingers.

  "Is something wrong?"

  I heard the amusement in Tytan's voice as he said, "Everything has caught up with her at once. Worn out, poor thing."

  Poor thing. If I felt like it I could kick him so hard his nuts would lodge in his nose. Ass. "I'm ready." I glared but it didn't wipe the smirk off his face. I formed the hook, placing our destination firmly in mind. It was easier than ever before. Effortless. I didn't even feel a tug as the heart created a door.

  We stepped through to the Caring Shelter. If Lucy believed she were me, then she would be at work. I'd taken us to Zech's room and after a quick search we knew we were alone. I'd hoped Danni would've kept it open for him in case he returned.

  "Danni always brings me a Diet Coke after lunch." It was only seven in the morning according to the clock on the wall. "If I could get to her first." I looked at Tytan and remembered Danni had hidden when he'd come to the office. "Marantha. Maybe you could pose as a battered woman?"

  Tytan shook his head. "It wouldn't work. Lucy would recognize her because she has your memories."

  I hadn't considered that. "We have to get Danni to help us. Somehow. I know I wouldn't take a drink from a stranger." Would Danni recognize me or would she dismiss me as my kids had, as Tom had? My heart panged at the thought my kids hadn't recognized me, but I put the pain aside. "I'll call her and tell her I have news about Zech. I'm sure she's wondering." Oh, and she probably had a million questions about the way Zech and I had left her. "She'll help." I reached for the phone, dialed in my calling card number, then Danni's number. She picked up on the first ring.

  "Devany?" Her small, frightened voice whispered over the line.

  "Yes. Danni. I need your help." I clutched the phone hard, willing her to answer. It took a long time.

  Finally, she said, "What is going on?"

  I sighed in relief. "Come to Zech's room. Don't tell anyone. And if you see me—this is going to sound weird, but you saw how Zech and I left so I'm praying you'll believe me and listen—if you see me anywhere outside of Zech's room, say hi and come here anyway. You hear?"

  "Yes?"

  "Thank you, Danni. Thank you so much." I disconnected the conversation, and then looked up at my two companions. I held up my hand. "Now we wait. Can someone fix my hand?"

  Marantha and Ty worked on a makeshift splint, arguing over the best way to keep my fingers from getting bumped until I could do something better. After they were done, my fingers were wrapped with toilet paper and splinted with pens. Not the best solution, but it helped remind me to be more careful with my hand.

  I sent Tytan to the bedroom. I knew Danni would be skittish and didn't want to push her any more than I had to. When she arrived, she was pale but steady and I was glad to see a spark in her eye.

  It turned out to be anger. "I was worried sick. You disappeared, vanished into thin air and then you came into work as if nothing happened. You said your kids had been returned and that's all you cared about." She sniffed. "You were rude. All you talked about was your kids and Tom. Tom and your kids. Someone would think you were newlyweds or something."

  I cursed under my breath. I'd been worried something like that would happen. That Lucy would give Tom the wrong idea or worse, encourage him. "Listen, I can give you the whole story if you want to hear it and if it takes," I glanced at the clock again, "only three and a half hours."

  She clutched her purse on her lap, looking small but somehow more there than she ever was before. "I don't want to know it all. It's best if I don't. But I would like to know about Zech."

  I rubbed my forehead. "He's in bad shape. He's in a coma in Abilene."

  Her soft eyes welled. Then the Abilene part sunk in, I guess, because she blinked the threatened tears away. "Texas?"

  I nodded.

  "Oh."

  I transferred the rubbing hand to the back of my neck. The muscles there were so tight they hurt when I kneaded them. "I need your help. The woman who looks like me isn't actually me, of course. She thinks she's me and that's my fault." I nodded to the older woman who had been sitting quietly this whole time, as if sensing how nervous Danni was around strangers. "Marantha has made a drink that will help her remember who she is." Liar, liar. "I need your help in getting her to drink it because she won't want to if she knows what it is."

  "Do it again."

  Startled, I straightened. "What?"

  "The vanishing. Please. Do it again."

  What the hell? It wasn't a circus act and this wasn't entertainment. I fought down my impatience and drew a hook in front of me. I disappeared through it to Marantha's house and then returned to the room. I glanced at the clock. Half an hour had passed. Danni jumped when I came back, her words cut off in a squeak when I appeared.

  Before I could snap at her, Marantha said, "She needed to be convinced this was real. She had to see it again because it might've been a dream." Her look reminded me of my mother after catching me slapping Trevor in the back of the head.

  Oh. Fine. I sat, keeping my lips sealed. Waited. Waited. Bit my tongue to stop myself from haranguing Danni. Oh how far I had fallen. I'd had patience. I'd been kind. Now I was a violent, vicious, impatient bitch. A violent murderous bitch.

  "I'll do it."

  I sagged in relief.

  Marantha smiled. She gestured to me and I held out the bottle to Danni. "Pour it into her drink. She won't be able to taste it. Bring her here afterward. It will work fast so you'll have to be firm. You can do that, right?" Confidence rang in Marantha's voice. It worked its magic on Danni. She slipped the bottle into her purse.

  "I'll bring her back." Her eyes found mine and that tiny spark had grown. "Don't worry." The door snicked shut behind her.

  I covered my face with my good hand, not surprised when I felt Tytan's hands on my neck. I said, "She'll do it."

  "I heard."

  I dropped my hands to my lap to see Marantha studying me, watching Tytan, a contemplative look on her face. I ignored her and sighed. "
Soon I'll have my life back."

  She didn't answer. She didn't believe me and she knew I didn't believe it myself.

  Time dragged. After Tytan had massaged out most of the kinks, I paced the room. Arsinua kept asking me to stay away from him. He's evil. Don't forget it. He wants something and he's working on getting it from you. Please, take care.

  Neutria also whispered at me, telling me to take what I could get and eat the rest. Simple and direct, she was. I asked her if she longed to have a body of her own. More power here. Stronger. Freer.

  My stomach dropped. She wouldn't go without a fight. I was glad I didn't have to worry about her now. Someday, when there wasn't so much on my plate, maybe I would figure out a way to rid myself of the spider. Until then, she could whisper in the back of my mind.

  At twelve-fifteen, the doorknob rattled. Tytan was there before I could move and swung the door open. Lucy leaned heavily on Danni who struggled under the weight of her. I grabbed her arm and helped her to the couch. Lucy flopped onto it, boneless, her face flat and without life.

  My heart beat hard in my chest. Danni had done her part. Marantha. Now it was my turn. Mouth dry, I lay on the floor beside the couch. I'd never been good at meditating; I regretted now not practicing, forcing my mind to silence. "Tytan? Do that calming thing, please?"

  He stretched out beside me—not what I had in mind, especially when he slid his hand onto my stomach under the shirt—but he sent a thrum of deep restfulness through me. I slipped into that floaty state between waking and sleep. Drifted, caught myself. 'Arsinua? Are you ready?'

  No.

  'What?' My panic nearly knocked me out of the trance.

  Sorry. No. But I will do it anyway.

  Lovely. I began the process of picturing Arsinua as I'd last seen her, her hair, her eyes, her face as it twisted in fear at the sight of the spider. I formed her in my mind, giving her substance. I pictured her toes, her fingers, the skin beneath the clothes. I drew on the heart—only the heart, not on my new Skriven wellspring of power—and a resonant hum picked up in my head, contributing to the making of Arsinua as separate from myself.