Anna Peregrine--Library of Souls

Chapter Eight

We walked through Devil's Acre, being traumatized by what we saw before coming to a small house.

"He's in there, out through the back. But before we go in, I should warn you: this is an ambrosia den, and there'll be peculiars in there who are lit out of their minds. Don't talk to them, and whatever you do, don't look them in the eye. I know people who've been blinded that way," Sharon told us.

"What do you mean blinded?" Jacob asked.

"Just what it sounds like. Now follow me and don't ask any more questions. Slaves don't question their masters."

I rolled my eyes as we started to fall behind Sharon who walked over to a circle of men outside of the door. I watched as Sharon talked with them, not being able to figure out what they were saying until Sharon said, "I haven't given them names yet. Just got 'em yesterday. They're still so green, I don't dare let them out of my sight."

"Is that right?" one of them men asked, approaching me and Jacob. "Don't have names?"

I remained silent whilst Jacob shook his head. The man looked at us up and down before saying, "Haven't I seen you somewhere?"

We stayed silent.

"Maybe in the window at Lorraine's," Sharon said.

"Nah. Ah, I'm sure it'll come to me."

A man with an eyepatch opened the door for us, "Enjoy yourselves, but I wouldn't send them into the cage today, unless you're ready to scrape them off the ground."

"We're just here to watch and learn," Sharon said.

"Smart man."

We followed Sharon through the door into a dark room full of smoke. I could see a little bit thanks to my peculiarity but not much. We walked into a room that was lit only by oil lamps.

"Why is it so dark in here?" Jacob asked.

"The eyes get sensitive as the effects of ambro wear on," I answered, recounting my lessons on it. "Even weak daylight is nearly unbearable."

We walked through a row of bunk beds with people laying in them. Many of people, as I came to discover, were wearing masks that covered their whole face.

We walked through a curtain of hanging beads before entering a larger room that was bustling. A man sat on a chair by the wall that we were looking at it saying, "Fighters to the left, spectators to the right! Place your bets in the parlour!"

There were people yelling a few rooms down and quickly the crowd parted allowing three men to walk through, two dragging one.

"That's what losers look like!" the man in the chair said. "And that," he pointed into a side room. "Is what cowards look like!"

Me and Jacob looked into the room to see two men who were guarded, who were covered in tar and feathers.

"Let them be a reminder. All fighters must spend two minutes in the cage, minimum!", the man in the chair said.

"So which are you?" Sharon asked us. "A fighter or a spectator?"

I looked at Jacob, and nodded at him. He nodded back and turned to Sharon, "A fighter. To really control it, we're going to have to get close."

I smiled at him before the three of us walked into the room for fighters. I was ready to go until I found blood splattered all over the room. A stream of it led down a hall and through a door, and that was where the fighting would commence.

A call came from the end of the hall. A man came out of a darkened room to the right. He was stripped down to his waist and had a white mask on. He stood for a moment before tipping his head back and held a glass vial above himself.