THE BAZAAR (The Devany Miller Series) (9 page)

He tipped his head at me. "Are you sure you know where Arsinua is?"

"She's here. Inside me."

He chuckled, then looked at my face and convinced himself I told the truth. "How?"

"The explosion.”

He sucked in air.

Tell him the rest. Explain. Please.

Her heartache was as painful as my own. I rubbed at my chest with my fist. “She tried to make a deal with a Skriven. Tried to gain power for your people and to stop those assholes stealing and killing people for magic. Of course, he managed to trick her into making a heart that would allow him to be physical in our worlds.” I sounded like a maniac. Good thing he knew what I was talking about, though he looked pissed as hell.

"She's in you, now?"

"Yes." I snuck a peek at him. His cheeks were pale. He looked like Liam did after riding the squirrel cages at the fair. "You going to throw up?"

He shook his head, but I didn't believe him. I hoped he'd aim his upchuck away from my lavender dress.

"Can she hear me?"

"Yes. She knows what I think, sees what I see."

Anger contorted his face. "You tell her," he started, then hesitated, his voice cracking with the force of his emotion. "You tell her," again, he stopped. Shook his head.

He'll never forgive me,
she said, her voice full of sorrow.

"Listen, I don't know why she made the heart in the first place. She had her reasons. But she tried to do the right thing by getting rid of it. She changed her mind. She faced down an assassin spider—and believe me, you do not want to face down an assassin spider. She would've died to keep the heart from the Skriven." I stopped at another light behind a chugging car that looked to be more rust than metal. Zech's breathing was ragged. What he thought, I didn't know.

Thank you. You don't have to defend me, but I appreciate it. I don't deserve you to think that I'm a brave person. I'm a coward.

"Listen, I don't know why you bargained with the Skriven. Maybe someday you'll tell me that story. I do know you tried to do the right thing in the end. That's good. And you're being honest about it now, which is even better."

Zech cleared his throat.

Tell him I said sorry.

I almost laughed, even though it wasn't funny. But I couldn't help thinking of Tom's sorry and how I'd dismissed it, whereas now I felt sentimental and hopeful that Zech would accept Arsinua's apology. What kind of a hypocrite was I? "She says to tell you she's sorry."

Zech waited until we'd pulled into my normal spot at the Caring Shelter before speaking. I killed the engine and angled my body toward him. He pressed his clenched hands to his forehead. "I don't know why she would make any sort of deal with a Skriven. It goes against what we believe in." He swallowed. "I don't know if I can forgive her either."

My heart gave a tug at that. Even though I understood where he was coming from, the betrayal he must feel, I still felt bad for Arsinua. Did that mean I should rethink what I felt about Tom? 

"But we need her help. The Coven of the Lotus still needs her. Can you—she—still do magic?"

I can. And if I teach you, I think that the both of us, working together, could be powerful.

Right. "Uh, she says yes."

He nodded. "There's a meeting tonight. Sacred Crow Park. If you can come.” He cleared his throat. "If you can come, please, Arsinua. We need you. Now that you've disappeared, the Witch's Council is reconsidering the requests of Yarnell and his group."

Arsinua hissed deep within my mind. I wanted to hiss myself. Yarnell. I remembered him. The asshole who’d had Arsinua stabbed and who let those people die.

I will be there.

"We'll be there.”

Zech nodded, already opening the door. "Thank you." Once he was out of the car, he ducked his head and leaned back into the car. "Arsinua?"

Yes?
The one word was filled with so much hope, it ached inside me.

"Pleasant nights."

The door slammed shut and I sat alone, confused. Was that a good thing, then?

The slow settling of Arsinua inside me, the peace that eased some of my muscles led me to believe that it was a good thing. I didn't ask, leaving her to her private thoughts.

ELEVEN

F
ive o'clock came quickly and I still hadn't come up with an excuse to slip away from the family to make it to Midia tonight. Perhaps I could say that I was on call. I rarely took the hotline at night since I worked the office during the day, but sometimes I took it when I had a skittish client who needed a lot of support. I wasn't looking forward to family night, nor the discussion Tom wanted to have with the kids. 

He'd better be able to keep his temper under control. Although I supposed I had more to worry about in me than in him. I had a witch, a spider, and a magical heart inside me. What did he have? The kitchen sink?

I hung up my purse and keys, slipped off my shoes and wandered into the living room where the kids and Tom were watching a movie. I sat down beside Bethany and wrapped my arms around her. After a brief struggle, she relaxed into me. Liam curled in one of the recliners, his nose in a book.

"What're you reading?"

"Dad got me a book on soccer strategy."

"Cool."

"Yeah. There are a lot of cool moves I want to try tomorrow on the field." He hadn't looked up from his book. I smiled and then noticed Tom, who stared at me. My smile faded. Bethany was glued to the set. Funny. Liam was the TV fanatic and Bethy the reader.

"Anything new, Magoo?"

"Nope." She covered my mouth with her hand. "Shh. This is a good part."

I glanced at the screen then back at Tom who dropped his eyes. A month ago, Tom and I had decided Bethany was too young to see the movie playing on the screen. I pushed my anger away, telling myself it wasn't worth arguing over. To Arsinua, I thought, 'When do I have to leave to get to the meeting on time?'

Let me check.

I waited, watching a particularly graphic scene full of blood and gore with a wince. Bethany winced too. 

Another two hours at the least. Time runs slower there.

"Devany? What do you think?"

I blinked. "I wasn't listening. What?"

Tom sighed. "Let's turn off the movie and go into the kitchen. I bought ice cream. We could sit around and talk."

Liam groaned. "Do I have to? I hate ice cream."

"Since when?" I poked him with my toes and he tried to hide his smile when I found his ticklish spot. "Huh? Huh?"

"Stop! Okay, I'll eat ice cream. Geez." He pushed my foot away and carefully marked his place in the book. Tom turned off the movie, relieved, I think, and Bethany, Liam, and I followed him into the kitchen. We sat on bar stools as Tom set out bowls and spoons and dished out the ice cream.

As far as end-of-our-family-as-we-know-it talks it went smoothly until Bethany asked why.

Tom had a spoonful of ice cream halfway to his mouth. He stuffed it in and looked at me, which meant so did Bethany.

Thanks Tom. Appreciate you sending that ball to my court. I paused a moment, thinking. Finally, I said, "Your father and I have our reasons. The specifics are between him and me. In general, I feel that the trust our marriage is based on has been betrayed. Your father feels that we have grown apart." It was very generous of me and Tom had better appreciate my discretion. Of course, that might be one thing he couldn't appreciate since he didn't have any.

Liam put his bowl in the sink and said, "Can I go now?"

"You don't want to watch the rest of the movie?" This from Tom.

Liam pushed away from the counter. "No. Got homework." 

I nodded to him and he vanished with a grateful sigh. Bethany had been letting her ice cream melt and now stirred it up. She'd been making ice cream soup since she was little, her favorite way of eating it. She slurped up some, and then wiped off her chin. "I don't think I want to watch the rest of the movie either. And you know what? I hate this. I hate it. It sucks big time and you guys suck for not trying harder."

Tom flinched. I did too. For a moment, we shared a little of what had made us such a good pair, then Tom left the room and that moment vanished. 

"Is Dad mad at me?" Her voice was small, hurt.

"No. He's sad. So am I. This is pretty awful honey, and we're hurting."

"I didn't mean it. I'm sorry," she wailed and threw herself in my arms. I held her tight for a long while before Tom came back in and took over, picked her up even though he had a bad back and carried her into the living room, murmuring quietly to her.

I looked at the clock and then checked on Liam. He was fine, he said, though his red-rimmed eyes said something different. We talked for a bit and then my phone rang—I had programmed it earlier to call me. I pretended to talk to a client, my voice too high and tense. "Gotta go, sweetheart," I said, feeling rotten that I was lying to my kid. He didn't answer but submitted to my hug. I left him alone to his music and book and thoughts before going back downstairs, my work phone in hand.

"Tom?"

He and Bethy both looked up from where they huddled on the couch.

"I have to go on a call. It's an intake for the shelter so I'll probably be home late."

"Stay safe."

I nodded, unable to speak. He always said that before I left the house. Stupid to get sentimental over something so simple, but I did. I grabbed my purse and keys and left before I did something dumb like run into his arms and forgive him.

I should forgive him. But I couldn't. Couldn't stop picturing Tom and Anabelle together at the game as if they were a couple. As if the kids and I meant nothing to him.

Asshole.

I drove downtown, parking a block from Hidden Treasures where Zech had set up his sugar tent. A brick wall. “How the hell am I supposed to get there? Walk through it?”

With the heart inside you, yes. Otherwise, you would need to consume some of Zech's sugar to go through.

"Magic sugar," I murmured, remembering the scary woman in my vision so long ago. I glanced around, feeling like Harry Potter in the train station. As I neared, the bricks blackened and the alleyway formed. “Weird.” I reached out my hand and felt the bricks that made the walls of the alley. I glanced back, Omaha still visible, though it was like looking at the city through a veil. “So weird.”

The air thickened the farther I ventured, tugging at and lifting my skin, and then the strange streets of Midia stretched before me. "You'll have to lead, now," I reminded her.

She didn't talk. I wasn't sure if she wasn't able to or if she was having some sort of sad moment being back in her own world without her body. Then she spoke.
I'll give you the directions in your mind.

A moment, nothing. The next moment, I knew where to go. The city laid before me in my mind as if I'd always lived here and had always known how to get to Sacred Crow Park. "This is trippy."

I'm not sure I know what that means.

"You can't look up the word in my mind?"

I'm trying to stay out of your memories. Your private thoughts should be your own.

Oh. "Thank you." I nodded to a woman walking by me, who glanced at me askance for chattering away to myself. Or maybe she wondered why, as a human, I wasn't exploding. “Can they tell I'm human?”

Some. People from Earth have a tight wash of color around their bodies. Midian auras are large and loose and flowing. Not all of us have the ability to see them.
She said something else I couldn't catch.

“
What did you say,” I asked, the hairs on my arms standing on end.

I don't think you are quite human anymore.

“Tytan already told me as much.” My voice startled a few purple birds frolicking in a fountain, which swam sensuously through the air. Water spouted from its ceramic back. “Holy shit.”

Do you believe shit is holy?
The slight amusement in her voice clued me in to her ribbing.

"This is a beautiful city." Much greener than Omaha. Trees and vines, plants and flowers bloomed in impossible, whimsical places. Houses had flowers clinging to their sides, growing from under the eaves and out chimneys. In front of one house flowers danced and bobbed in midair. I stopped to gawk, wishing I could take pictures of it and show Liam and Bethany.

Arsinua gave me a mental nudge and so I continued on, gazing back at the flowers until they were out of sight. 

"Tell me more about this coven you belong to."

It's a group of thirteen witches. They're leaders of their own covens of thirteen, making us a nightmare of one hundred sixty-nine witches. 

"A nightmare?" 

She smiled.
Yes. We maintain the Omphalos of Midia, our source of concentrated power. It has been dwindling for some time now and with it the protections against the Wild.

“
Isn't everything made of magic?”

It is. Wild magic. The Omphalos was constructed long ago to organize the magic and with it our society developed. Streets, homes, education, safety. Healers and engineers. We don't live at the whim of wild magic, we construct our own reality. Only now that's fading and with it our civility. People are scared. They want to have families without sacrificing love for safety. They are desperate. Which is why Yarnell has been able to convince more and more people that harvesting stumblebums is an acceptable solution.

“Stumblebums? You mean humans?” I felt sick. “Is the Wild so terrible?” An image of anemic trees and the smell of rotted flesh assailed me. My stomach rolled. “Okay, I get it. Stop.”

I wish I could present you to my world in a different way. It is a place full of magic and wonder. Unfortunately, there is good and evil here, too. 

"I know there are witches and fleshcrawlers. What else?"

What can you imagine?

My mind conjured up the millions of fairy tales, horror stories, books, video games and the plethora of monsters that inhabited those imaginary worlds.

She laughed, softly.
Perhaps not such a variety, but there are plenty of creatures, beings here that you've heard tell of in your stories and legends. Plenty more that might give you nightmares.

"Nex didn't give me nightmares," I said, realizing that I'd slept pretty well for someone who'd done what I had done, seen what I'd seen, yesterday. Arsinua was silent. "What happened to you in the Slip? Neutria said you'd been there before."

I don't wish to speak of it. Not now. Not yet. If it matters, if I must, I will tell you. But now I cannot.

"Fair enough," I said. I stopped on a cobblestone street corner and gazed in amazement at the fanciful carriage coming down the road, drawn by four unicorns. Unicorns. I laughed aloud and then stopped myself, sure I'd end up in a Midian loony bin. Wishing for my camera again, I remembered I had my phone in my pocket. It took pictures. "Just one? Do you think it would hurt?"

You could take it, but it wouldn't stay in your camera. Magical things don't last long on your world.

"The hook. The heart is a hook, didn't you say that?"

Yes.

"Then why couldn't I hop over to Midia from my house, say, or from the car? Why did I have to go downtown?"

I'm not sure how to use the heart. I don't know if I want to use it any more than I have to.”

"How did you make it?" The gate loomed ahead. Elaborate curlicues of wrought iron spelled out the words Sacred Crow Park, along with a number of other symbols I didn't know the meaning of.

Not here.

Her shame filled me. What had she done to make it? Did I even want to know? Something—or someone—horrible had happened to her in the Slip.

Tytan? The woman from the park and my vision?

I pushed on the gate but it wouldn't open. "Now what?"

Close your eyes. Repeat these words. 'Allow me entry.'

"Allow me entry."

'In peace I visit.'

"In peace I visit." 

Now place your hands on the gate and think them open. Don't push; think of them swinging wide.

I did, doubting that I would be able to do anything by the force of my mind alone. I pictured the gates opening with an ominous squeak as they would do in a movie. As I pictured it, it happened.

What on Midia was that? 

"What?"

What you think, so shall it be. Remember that. Don't add anything extra. Ever.

I swallowed, glad I hadn't been thinking of zombies and other dead things at the time. I'd only begun with the squeak. The gates swung shut behind me. A shadowed expanse of lawn spread before me. I veered left along a rock-strewn path.

There were things buzzing and flitting in the dark.  Squinting, I realized they weren't bugs but little people. Little people.

"Fairies?" I shrieked it. Arsinua hissed at me to be quiet and I apologized under my breath. Fairies. I wanted to do a little dance. I'd always loved fairies. My favorite bedtime stories always included fairies taking human children with them to their world and raising them as their own. I'd always wanted to be a fairy. That had been my Halloween costume six years in a row until my mother had put her foot down and told me I could be a witch, a ghost, a pirate, a damn princess—anything but a fairy.