The Seven Markets (11 page)

A swirl of colorful smoke passed Ellie. It had no mouth but it spoke just the same: “The sea of Liir, truly?”

Truly.
She saw no one walking with the swirl of smoke, heard no voice. But there was someone there just the same. Someone who was no one. And it spoke, only without using words. She felt its answer the way she would have felt warm or cold or tired or hungry.

“Well, I’ve never heard the like,” the smoke said. It paused within arm’s reach of Ellie and Rossi. She could imagine a gentleman holding his position a moment to adjust his shoe or straighten his tie.

Certainly it’s unprecedented, I’ll grant you, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible.

“Irresponsible is what it is. Thoughtless and irresponsible. What are the rest of us to do?”

No one laughed, burbling like fast-moving water.
No argument here.

“I tell you,” the smoke said, drifting away. “There’ll be hell to pay. Mark my words: hell to pay.”

If no one answered, the pair was too far away for Ellie to hear. She felt Rossi’s hand on her arm, urging her forward. She glanced over at him, and was momentarily shocked at how old he looked.
All these years. Older and older, and I just stay the same.

“No,” she said. “I believe I would like a glass of water. Perhaps something stronger.”

He might have protested, but with her resolve came a renewed sense of strength. Ellie shrugged his hand off and strode through the lobby to the hotel’s lounge. She located a small table in a far, dark corner and sat down, pulling out her own chair before Rossi could catch up and do it for her.

She sat with her back straight, her ankles crossed, and her hands in her lap. The outward calm she projected was in stark contrast to the storm raging within her mind. Her eyes stared sightlessly forward, focused on a single overhead light.

“What is it?” Rossi said, sliding into the chair beside her.

“You don’t see them. Why don’t you see them?”

“Tell me.”

Ellie raised a hand from her lap and pointed the monsters out to him one by one. The towering man with the blue skin and extra arms was on the far side of the lounge now but the nearest table was populated by a rangy, twitching thing with too many eyes, a red-skinned woman who seemed to communicate by sniffing the air and exhaling at her companions and a short, stout man with a tuft of fire where his beard should have been.

Rossi shook his head as Ellie described them. “I see a short man with a gray beard,” he said. “A quiet woman, and a boy who looks even younger than you.”

Ellie shook her head. She seized Rossi’s hand, pleading with him to believe her. When his eyes met hers they grew wide in recognition.

“Ellie,” he said. “Your eyes.”

“What?”

Her handbag was by her left foot. Rossi picked it up and removed a small palm-size mirror. He held it to her face so she could see what he saw.

Her eyes. Even in the dimness of the hotel’s lounge they sparkled. But there was something more. A thin tendril of light, curling up like a wisp of smoke, seeped out of Ellie’s reflected eye.

“No!”

She clapped her hands over her eyes, held them closed so tight it hurt. She was keenly aware of the fevered beating of the Prince’s gem against her chest, matching her own racing heart beat for beat.

The air in the lounge had suddenly become very thin.

She saw in her mind’s eye the gnashing teeth of the green creature with the long snout. Imagined the blue giant rising to his full height and, club in hand, flattening her to a bloody pulp of crushed bones and exploded organs. Felt the eerie calm as the red woman at the next table glided over, leaned in close, and pulled the life from her in a single, sharp inhalation.

Ellie felt her eyes blazing beneath her hands. Felt the tips of her fingers beginning to tingle and burn as the light overwhelmed her flesh. Soon. Soon she would be burning, and the horrors in the hotel lounge would burn with her.

“Ellie, it’s all right. Open your eyes. No one’s trying to hurt you.”

“No.”

“Ellie, it’s me. I promise.”

She held her breath, trying to decide, the light building and building. What finally decided her was Rossi. How could Rossi lie to her, or hurt her, if her Prince had tasked him with her protection?

“See?” he said as she lowered her hands.

She watched the creatures at the next table raise their glasses in a toast. The blue giant at the bar bellowed with laughter, clapping one of his companions on the back. The predatory half-lizard stepped away from the bar to let an ancient crone in tattered rags step up close.

“Do you see them?” Ellie said.

“No. But I believe you. And I don’t think they mean you any harm.”

She continued watching and realized that, apart from an occasional worried look, not one of them appeared the least bit interested in her or Rossi. They drank and talked and told stories. They laughed and embraced as old friends who hadn’t seen one another in many years. They were creatures, true, but that was all they were.

As she calmed down, as the Prince’s gem slowed its beating to a soft, steady, unhurried pace, their features melted and blurred and became as normal as hers and Rossi’s. The blue giant shrank and became a fit man in a sharp blue suit. The half-lizard became a woman with thin features, a pointed nose, and a long drape of unruly hair that fell to the center of her back.

“Glamours,” she said, marveling.

“Ellie?”

“I was seeing through their glamours. They must be here for the Market, same as us. Did you know there were so many walking the world? Why haven’t we seen them before?”

“Maybe we have, but without realizing it. Ellie, do you know how much power it takes to see through a glamour?”

She shook her head.

“I’m not even sure if your Prince could do it. His father, perhaps.”

“He gave me this,” she said, holding up the Prince’s gem, remembering the three men in the alley. “It protects me. What if that extends to . . . I don’t know . . . letting me see through things that aren’t there?”

“To protect yourself?”

“It wouldn’t be the strangest thing we’ve seen.”

“True, true. Even so.”

Ellie nodded at the table beside them. “Maybe I can prove it to you.”

“You don’t have to,” Rossi said. “I told you, I believe you.”

“Even so.”

Before he could stop her, Ellie leaned over to their neighbors, the man with his bushy gray beard, the thin, quiet woman whose dress was cut a hair tighter than modesty would allow, and the wild-haired boy who couldn’t seem to sit still.

“Pardon me,” Ellie said. “May I ask where you all are from?”

“Cleveland,” the bearded man said, answering without turning.

“No, not where you’ve come from for the Market. Where you’re really from.”

The thin woman remained silent as she glared at the bearded man. The boy drummed on his legs and made a soft, mewling sound.

“Market?” the man said.

“Of course. You’re travelers, as my companion and myself are.”

“Fraid I don’t catch your meaning, girly. We’re from Cleveland.” He shared a look with the thin woman and poured the rest of his drink down his throat. As a group, they rose to leave.

Ellie had no more luck with any of the other lounge patrons, earning herself several threatening looks and a few harsh words before Rossi insisted that she stop before someone tried to hurt her.

“You don’t want that again, do you? Twice in one night?”

No, she didn’t. She’d rather he think she was losing her mind.

They left the lounge together, Ellie shooting defiant looks at the patrons who’d remained after she spoke to them.

“What did you expect?” he said once the door to their suite was closed and locked.

“I don’t understand.”

“Just what I said. If they’re hiding behind glamours, they’ve probably been doing it a long, long time. I’ve only met a handful of things that can create a proper glamour. I’d be willing to bet not a one of the people downstairs can swing it. How many do you think even remember the sight of their true faces?”

Ellie fell onto the couch. Removing her boots, she was brought back to their attack in the alley.

“Who do you think they were?”

“Who?” Rossi said, loosening his tie and struggling to get his jacket off.

“The men from outside. From—”

“The street? The alley? No one. Monsters who don’t need a glamour to appear human. Monsters worse than anything downstairs.”

Rossi finally managed to extricate himself from his jacket. He tossed it over the back of a chair, kicked off his shoes, and sat down as if he was afraid the impact with the cushion might shatter his bones.

“Are you all right?” Ellie said, spotting his distress.

“Fine, just fine. Little banged up is all.”

She puzzled for a second before fitting the pieces together. “The alley? I’m such a fool!”

“Now, now, not a fool, just a girl with a lot on her mind.” Rossi began unbuttoning his shirt. For the first time, Ellie noticed a line of dried blood on his face. It trailed from his chin, up his cheek, over his lip and to his right nostril.

“You’re bleeding.”

“I was. It’s fine, honestly. Nothing to it.”

“Let me see.”

She forced him back and made him sit still while she unbuttoned and removed his shirt. When she pulled up his undershirt, she discovered a blossoming field of purple, green, and yellow bruises all across his chest and midsection.

“Looks worse than it is,” Rossi said. When Ellie didn’t respond, he spoke again, “You’re supposed to tell me, ‘It looks horrible,’ and then I’ll tell you, ‘Oh, then it looks about right.’”

“Don’t joke.” Her voice was so small it might have come from a thousand miles away. She touched a star-shaped bruise on his shoulder with the tips of her fingers, feeling like a child reaching out to feel the soft skull of a new baby brother, curious what the tender flesh would feel like.

“See, that doesn’t hurt at all,” Rossi said through gritted teeth. “Do it some more, if you like. Please do.”

She pulled away, then fled to the far side of the room, by the tall windows that opened out over the city.

“I’m sorry,” she said at last.

Rossi stood. He forced a smile and went over to her.

“It’s not your fault, dear. Nothing is your fault. I’m here to watch over you, and on occasion, it gets a little rough and tumble. But just you watch: I’ll be right as rain before morning.”

He kissed the tips of two fingers and pressed them against her forehead.

“Can I count on you not to go out again? We can try talking to some of the other guests in the morning, if you like, but right now I just need to sleep.”

She shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“Nor I.” He managed a wobbly sort of smile before giving her another kiss-by-proxy and retreating to his own room for bed. Ellie closed the lights and dragged a chair over to the tall windows so she could watch the city. The next morning she would wake in her bed with no memory of rising from the chair and tucking herself in for sleep.

Ellie insisted on inspecting Rossi’s injuries. She refused to set one foot outside their suite until he removed his shirt and let her see his chest once more.

“I can order food up to the room, you know? They will deliver.”

She punched his arm—a reflex—and regretted it a second later. Rossi flinched back, but seeing her distress, waved her away with his palms to show he was joking.

“It’s not funny,” she said. The pleading tone of her voice cut through his resistance, and he removed his shirt so she could examine his bare torso. His skin was unmarked; the injuries he’d suffered on the street had vanished.

“How?”

“I told you, a good night’s sleep would do me right.”

“But—”

He shook his head and put on his undershirt. “We all have our little tricks, dear. If it makes you feel any better, it was hell getting to sleep last night banged up as I was.”

That didn’t make her feel better in the least. “Is it a spell? A charm?”

“A parting gift from a mutual friend. You remember Captain Cutter, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Smart man, that. Even keeping a low profile as we have, waiting out the Market, he knew I’d need a little boost to keep up with you.” He finished buttoning his shirt, tucked it in, and squared his tie away in short order. After selecting a hat and a jacket, he opened the door to their suite and gestured for Ellie to follow him.

“Where are we going?” she said.

“Breakfast. I’m famished. And I think you wanted to try talking to some of the other guests when they haven’t spent the past few hours soaking whatever they have to pass for brain cells in the local flavor.”

She snatched her bag from the table and followed him out the door.

Ellie didn’t recognize any of the guests downstairs from the night before. She tried talking to a group of likely-looking people, eventually asking where they were from, where they were
really
from, only to find her questions met with blank, concerned stares.

“My niece,” Rossi explained. “Means well but she tends to get excited and, well, turned around from time to time.”

“Pity,” said one of the men. Rossi excused himself to rescue an older woman in a dark, high-collared dress who Ellie was badgering for her place of birth. The woman’s hair was pulled back tightly enough that the strain showed on her cheeks and forehead. Even if she hadn’t been put out by Ellie’s questions, she would have looked ready to begin screaming.

“You can tell me. It’s all right. We’re here for the Market, too.” Ellie was cooing right into the woman’s ear, oblivious to her clear discomfort.

The woman addressed Rossi as he approached, sliding away from the mad young girl’s fevered assault.

“Sir, is this . . . girl with you?”

“I’m afraid so,” he said. Ellie shook him off and pulled out the Prince’s gem. She held it up in the old woman’s face.

“See? Look—it’s all right. Just tell me where you’re from and”—Ellie leaned close to whisper right in the woman’s ear—“what you are. I promise I won’t tell.”

“I’m so sorry,” Rossi said, pulling Ellie away.