Oblivion Heart (Darkling Mage 4)

Nick started coughing on a mouthful of smoke. Scrimshaw looked up at me with an unchanged expression, except for how he was licking his lips and rubbing his hands together.

“Right,” Scrimshaw said. “Heard of it. Likes to vanish after you read it, right? No worries. No problem. But there is the subject of payment.”

Sterling elbowed me. “Cough up.”

“Okay,” I said, eyeing Sterling irritably. “What’s it going to cost?”

“Ten drams of your blood,” Scrimshaw barked, without hesitation. “And three hundred bucks in administration and miscellaneous fees.”

“What!”

I totally caught Scrimshaw and Nick giving each other knowing, covetous glances. Sterling said nothing, suddenly looking interested in the colorful tapestries festooning the stall.

“Fine,” I said. “I don’t even know what a dram of blood – Jesus, ouch!”

Scrimshaw had already clamped onto my wrist, his tiny, needle-like fangs piercing my skin, an equally tiny, presumably forked tongue lapping and sucking at my blood. I watched with revulsion and horror as the creature fed on me, but if this was what it took to find the Tome? I’d give him twenty drams, whatever the hell that meant.

Nick just kept on smoking as Scrimshaw sucked at my wrist. Sterling, I noticed, had stopped pretending to care about woven goods, and was watching Scrimshaw with grim curiosity, and maybe a little envy. He made a soft cough.

“Don’t you even think about it,” I said.

Sterling shrugged and said nothing. Scrimshaw finally disengaged from my arm, wiping his horrible little mouth with the back of one tiny hand. He smacked his lips.

“You’re a mage, aren’t you?” he said, his cocked eyebrow both inquisitive and critical.

“Um. Yes?” I rubbed at my wrist, wondering if it was weird to ask if they stocked any magical adhesive bandages.

“Hmm,” Scrimshaw said, rubbing his chin and smacking his lips again. “Your blood is – weird. Tastes like a California red wine. But like, the kind you can get at a gas station.”

“Oh my God,” Sterling said, slapping his forehead. “Right? That’s what I said.”

“Thanks guys,” I grumbled. “Thanks a lot.”

“Anyway,” Scrimshaw said, waving a hand. “Now that I’ve got your scent, I can find you. That is, once I find the Tome. No guarantees that I can take it to you directly, but I’ll give you its location as soon as I track it down.”

And with that, Scrimshaw vanished in a coppery puff of fire and smoke that smelled very much like rotten eggs.

“Sulfur,” Sterling said, waving a hand under his nose. “Smells like farts.”

Nick blew out another cloud of smoke, his eyes twinkling as he gave me a knowing smile. “And now for the admin fees. That’ll be three hundred dollars.” He reached under his desk, pulling out a credit card reader. “We’re good with cash, but we also accept all major credit cards.”

Bled twice in one night. I sighed and reached for my wallet.

Chapter 8

I was three hundred dollars down, but at least we had one more avenue for discerning the Tome of Annihilation’s whereabouts. I had to hope that Herald was still looking, and I was identifying more places to check out in my head as well.

In the back of my mind I left a note to ask dad if I could scope out his school’s library. He didn’t get his old job back, but there was an opening in another district, so at least he had something to do, and some money in the bank.

Actually, that made me wonder whether schools exclusively built for magical people even existed. But just as soon as I’d thought it, I realized that one of them wouldn’t be found anywhere near the Black Market. It was what it was: a bazaar for trading illicit and often unsavory goods.

Sterling and I spent another hour or two perusing the Black Market. I didn’t end up getting a pet dragon after all. Those things cost an arm and a leg, as well as five digits worth of my salary, plus Sterling said that they crapped everywhere. Maybe it was something to consider when I’d saved up more. Honestly, deep inside, I think I just really wanted a puppy.

The Black Market really did have everything you could think of, and more. Voodoo dolls, soaps that could change your appearance, even instant curses to make your ex’s eyebrows fall out. I also discovered some exceedingly naughty books, and a half-dozen recreational drugs I’d never heard of, all of them only produced and traded in the arcane underground. More and more it made sense why the Black Market wanted to keep itself hidden from the Lorica’s prying, inquisitive fingers.

It must have been a little past midnight when Sterling and I decided to head back into Valero. While mostly deserted, Silk Road was still brightly lit, and for once I actually felt safe walking my city’s streets after dark. Then again, Silk Road wasn’t like the Gridiron, the industrial district with its dark, dead warehouses, or the Meathook, where even the muggers got mugged.

“But I think I’d be happier getting a ride from here,” I told Sterling. We’d gotten into one too many street fights after dark. Come to think of it, since joining the arcane underground, I don’t believe I’ve ever been able to walk into an alley or down a narrow street without the threat of getting beaten up hanging over my head.