The Chimera

Chapter Twenty-Nine: On the Origin of Specters

"Is it really a good idea to stay here any longer than we need to?" Edeline asks.

"Oh no, it definitely isn't. But trust me, you'll regret not taking at least a quick look around," Jasper says. He argues in favor of staying in the market, heeding the call of the silver-eyed stranger.

But Edeline's more hesitant. "What do you think, Giada? You'll be the deciding vote."

Giada considers the situation. As strong-willed as she always is, her more mild siblings often pass the decision-making onto her. But that was for little things, like what Rian should prepare for dinner or what game to set up in the parlor room. This is a weightier choice.

Giada didn't work at the archives for years for nothing: she's efficient, strategic. She knows she should let Jasper ring them away. But in the future, even mere days from now, won't their curiosity eventually get the better of them anyway? Won't they question and wonder and look for a way to come back and explore, to obtain answers eventually? That's what happened to Jasper; wouldn't it be the same for them?

So, might as well stay long enough to sate their curiosity and then go home.

When she tells them this, Edeline frowns and responds with, "Only for a little while; Rian and Fallon will worry about us. We'll visit a stall or two and then leave."

The vendor with the silver eyes watches them approach. Its stall bears an array of bottles in every variation of form and height, some holding liquids, others powders. There's a vial of sea-green water, another of bright gold sand. One bottle even holds a flame. It starts at the bottom and twists up into a profusion of redness, generating a burnt orange glow that brushes up against the glass walls that contain it.

Giada's eyes are drawn to it. The vendor, observing her, places a gray-skinned hand of seven long fingers on top of the bottle. "A love spell," it says, and its voice stays in her ears like a ringing echo.

Silver eyes follow her face closely. Somewhere in the depths of the large hood is a smile, as well as the bone-white color of antlers that start at the top of its head and curl down to end at its neck. Giada is distinctly unsettled.

"You'd like a love spell, wouldn't you?" it asks her. There is something so sly and knowing in the otherwise-pure tone of its voice. Its hand moves away from the flame to rest on another vial, this one filled with an indigo murkiness. "Or a forget-your-love spell, if you're tired?"

Giada recoils. It knows me. It's guessed at the small part of her she's never told anyone about, the part that both sings and agonizes every time she looks at Zahara.

She needs to leave before she can receive any more of its attention, but the vendor has already moved on to Edeline.

"For the prettier one—"

"Hey!"

"— no love spell is needed, I know."

Edeline gives the vendor a sharp glance for the insult to her sister. Next to her, Giada seethes. She's heard similar sentiments all her life, but finds that it still stings.

"No, I don't need a love spell," Edeline tells him coolly. "I never will."

The vendor finally looks at Jasper.

"I don't think I have anything that can help you."

Jasper sighs. One day he'll make his way to a polite world.

"What is this place?" he asks.

Silver eyes narrow at him. "My stall isn't for answering questions. If you want to trade in information, you're at the wrong place for it." It gestures over their shoulders to a stall on the other side of the yellowed path, which stands empty but for its lone vendor. "That's a better place for you."