Total pages in book: 194
Estimated words: 187021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 187021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
“Niamh,” Graves grumbled.
“Right. Right.”
Kierse hooked arms with Niamh and hurried toward the large double doors labeled Nying Market in large letters across the top.
Graves was at their back. “And look, you didn’t even have to kill anyone.”
“There’s still time,” Kierse said as she flipped the coin back and forth across her knuckles.
“There was almost time back there,” Niamh said.
“We could have taken them,” Kierse said.
Graves shrugged. “Probably.”
“Are you two always like this?” Niamh asked. She blew her bangs out of her eyes.
“No,” Graves said at the same time Kierse said, “Yes.”
“Got it. No wonder Lorcan wanted me to watch you,” Niamh said with a shake of her head. “Anyone who can keep Graves on his toes must be valuable.”
“That’s not the half of it,” Kierse told her.
Niamh glanced between them. “I don’t know if I even want to know. I’ve been avoiding Lorcan’s bullshit for so long. I was hoping to go a little longer.”
“I fear you’re out of luck,” Graves told her.
“I fear that as well,” Niamh said with a sigh. “Well, should we do the thing?”
Kierse nodded. “Let’s fucking do it.”
Then she pulled the doors open, stepping forward into the goblin market.
Chapter Fifteen
The market was dirty.
Kierse had been imagining a forest grove containing wooden stalls filled with wares and fields beyond growing the coveted fruit. Never had she pictured a darkened city street lined with tall buildings that seemed to lean into each other. The light of the moon vanished into the murky fog that pervaded the area. Puddles of stagnant water and filth littered the cobbled street, bringing with them the scent of sweat and refuse. Despite the inescapable feeling of unease, it teemed with monsters and humans alike.
“Whoa,” she whispered.
Niamh sniffed. “God, I hate this place. Can we get in and out quickly?”
“Voicing that aloud seems to be asking for trouble,” Graves said.
Kierse pulled her gaze from a group of mer haggling over a display of bones. Niamh looked visibly unwell. Graves, despite his cool exterior, also clearly hated it here. She didn’t see how it was much different than Third Floor, the underground monster market, beneath Grand Central Station in Manhattan. Both places were dark and dank and filled with illicit dealings. The real difference was the pervasive dealing of goblin fruit. Humans gorged themselves on the addictive substance on every street corner. It made her stomach twist.
“Let’s just hurry,” Kierse finally said. “I’ve researched the market and know that we need to find a bookkeeper.”
“Find a bookkeeper,” Graves said with a sigh. “As if it’s that easy.”
Kierse narrowed her eyes. “I know there’s one on this floor. Fraan mentioned it the last time I went to try to get access. I was going to find it on my own, but I assume you’ve both been here before.”
Graves shot her a noncommittal look. Yes, he’d been here. No, he wasn’t going to talk about it.
Niamh just said, “Sometimes we need very specific ingredients for our spells.”
“Excellent. Hopefully you can speed up my search. No stakeouts. Woohoo,” she said with an eye roll. “Where should we start?”
“The goblins mentioned Rio at the gate,” Graves said.
“Rio’s a bookkeeper?” Kierse asked as Graves took the lead navigating the cobblestone streets, Kierse and Niamh on his heels.
From what Kierse had gathered, bookkeepers were sort of a glossary for the market. Most illicit dealings could be done right out in the open. Drugs, sex, and weapons were as easy to come by as goblin fruit. But if you wanted something more interesting, more dangerous, or more unique, then a bookkeeper could find what you were looking for.
“Yes. Likely the one they had mentioned to you before. Though not one I’ve worked with. Their shop is nearby. Let’s try not to draw attention to ourselves.”
Niamh threw an arm across Kierse’s shoulders. “Just look like we belong.”
Kierse leaned into Niamh and forced her face into neutrality. That had basically always been her motto: stealth over muscle. Only recently had she had enough muscle to take on a monster, but she didn’t particularly want to do it more often than necessary. Especially not in a place like this, teeming with monsters.
Every storefront and stall on the never-ending street was run by a goblin. Signs on the buildings reinforced that impression. Grax and Gird: Monster Materials with bottles labeled for vamp venom, werewolf bites, and wraith souls. Cruiggic’s Weapons, showcasing every manner of sword, axe, spear, and knife with a violet banner that proudly proclaimed goblin made. Gaukul was full of living creatures—spiders, rats, and snakes—and next to it was its competitor, Trutiz, which had all the parts and none of the living creatures. Safia and Thafia: Fortune Reading was a tiny stall with two goblin women sitting in front of a crystal ball and a deck of tarot cards. Behind them a goblin man was herding their clients inside to the amulets, talismans, and divination materials.