Under the Darkest Skies

Chapter 3

Becky had been in America long enough that she had grown wary of older-sounding names that might have been common back home. In the States, it seemed like 'Grandma names', as Liv would call them, either belonged to actual grandmothers or twenty-somethings who seemed to have become walking extensions of their cell phones. Everything's a cycle, I guess. When she went to the temporary management office for The Fathoms and was told to wait for Muriel, she wasn't quite which version she was going to get. Of course, there were other possibilities: it could be a vampire who was centuries old or an eldritch fae who had simply chosen a name at random from a book.

I hope Liv and Rhea aren't tormenting Seth, she thought as she checked messages while she was waiting. She purposefully hadn't taken Seth to the more sexual side of the markets, and she could just imagine Rhea showing him on purpose to make him squirm.

"Becky?" A clerk clad in pale lavender—the actual flowers, not simply the colour—suddenly appeared in front of Becky's chair. "Muriel is available now. Come with me." As Becky stood, the flower girl grabbed her hand and there was a rush of air and light that left Becky gasping. When her footing was solid again, Becky looked around and found herself facing a cloaked balcony overlooking the jewellery section of the market.

Huh. They ARE real. Becky had always guessed The Fathoms—the actual entities that ran the markets and named them after themselves—presided over everything from the shadows, but it was another thing to witness it. Walking down the bustling aisles would never quite feel the same now.

"Muriel?" The flower girl lost a few petals as she stepped onto the balcony, but she reached out a hand and they swirled up onto her palm. "Becky Lynch is here to see you. Banshee blood."

"Thank you, Kellana." A shadow fell across the entrance. "Come out here, Becky. You'll be fine. It's warded so you won't fall."

That's... reassuring, Becky thought as Kellana stepped off the balcony and motioned her forward. Remembering that she didn't know what Muriel's specialty was, Becky tried to keep her thoughts in check. She hadn't had any particularly mean thoughts flitting through her head, but it was better to be safe; it wasn't just telepaths who could read minds, after all. "Thank you for seeing me."

"Of course, of course." In the light, Muriel looked like a cross between Charlotte and Tamina, with the former's height and the latter's build and colouring. Any part of her that was in shadow, however, trailed into smoke. "I'm guessing you don't just want to talk about your hours."

Becky gulped. "That's... certainly part of it." She looked out at the market for a moment, trying to see if she could spot Rhea or Liv or Seth, but she couldn't see any familiar faces—not that she was sure she wanted to. Muriel's perch felt oddly intrusive. "I'll only need to work an hour or so tonight...."

"I'm aware." Becky had heard cool tones and glacial ones, but Muriel's sounded like primordial ice, old and heavy. "Something is troubling you, though."

"Yes." Becky hesitated. Muriel was clearly powerful, so there probably wasn't much she hadn't seen. But Becky didn't know her, at least not in any meaningful way, and she wasn't sure if anyone she knew was working in the market. "I just have a... concern about my powers. I should probably find someone to talk to before I take any clients."

Muriel's mouth twitched into something Becky was reluctant to call a smile. "I'm here. Perhaps I could answer your question."

"Oh. Well, I mean...." Becky gestured out at the bustling market beneath them. The clamour was quieter up here, softer, less of a physical force, but still very real. "You're busy. I wouldn't want to bother you."

"It's my job to attend to the workings of the market," Muriel pointed out. "You're a worker who's worried about her ability to work. What's troubling you?"