Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 171450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 857(@200wpm)___ 686(@250wpm)___ 572(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 171450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 857(@200wpm)___ 686(@250wpm)___ 572(@300wpm)
The market worked in mysterious ways, created by some old dead god with entrances at seven different locations around the globe—Dublin, New York City, Shanghai, São Paulo, Lagos, Istanbul, and Rome. Each city was a spoke on a wheel, and to travel between each city, you went up or down to reach it. And though the coin allowed them access to the market, it didn’t let them leave through a different city. Oh, how much easier life would have been if it did.
But they speculated that the market only continued running on the ingenuity of the goblins and their goblin fruit. It would take a lot more energy to be able to jump between locations. Maybe the old gods could do it, but no longer.
“So, what’s the plan?” she asked.
“Break George out of Sansara.”
“How are we going to get into Sansara? Didn’t it move after I played spy?”
“I know where it is. In theory,” he added.
She huffed. “What does that mean?”
Graves shrugged as they navigated the ever-darkening streets. Though all the streets looked like their New York City counterpart, they were all just a little different than the real world. Beggars huddled in corners. Sex workers offered their wares to the hungry monsters on the streets, more and more of them wearing the Men of Valor logo. She had even seen the wings-and-arrow symbol painted on multiple buildings. How much more steam were they gaining?
Graves waited until they were alone again before continuing. “The opening to Sansara moves now. I don’t know how he’s managing it. It’s a fuck ton of magic,” he admitted. “But Vale found a way in once by trailing one of the Sansara goons.” He shook his head at the mention of the half-warlock friend that he sometimes worked with in the market. “He tried to go back another time, and it was gone again. So I think…”
“We should find one of the goons.”
“Yeah,” he said with a shrug.
“And where do we find them?”
“They’re usually proselytizing on the street corners in the market.”
Kierse glanced around at the next intersection they approached, which was full of hulking goblins glaring at them and desperate humans devouring the fruit. More monsters on every corner were going about their sinister business.
“I don’t see any tree cultists around, do you?”
“No. I reached out to Vale, but he hasn’t gotten back to me.”
“So, we look around until we find out?”
“Not exactly,” he said, finally stopping in front of a shop.
It looked nothing like the last time Kierse had seen this shop, but like Sansara, Goblin Market bookkeepers frequently relocated as well. On the door, it read Vriosa and under that beware dog.
“Rio?” Kierse asked. Her hand went to a weapon on her hip as a pair of wraiths trailed a little too close to them. Graves narrowed his eyes and opened his magic that made him twice as menacing. The wraiths stumbled a few steps away from Graves as they kept walking, glaring back at them.
“We don’t have the time for a stakeout,” Graves said.
“We don’t even know if they’ll help us.”
“They left after I threatened the party. I think that’s all the sign that I need,” Graves said, jerking the door open. A bell jingled overhead, and he held his arm out. “Shall we?”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Kierse stepped into Rio’s shop. The room was half the size of their last establishment. It was missing the glass cabinets of the previous place. With nothing on display, it looked even more bare than before, with only a wooden counter with a large, dark book, closed and locked. Kierse wondered how hard it would be to break into it and what the cost would be if she did.
A bark brought her back to reality as Daisy, the greige goblin hound, bounded out of the back straight toward them. Daisy was more reptile than mammal with pointed ears and tail. The last time they’d seen the dog that could spit acid, he’d been roughly the size of a mastiff. He was head and shoulders bigger than that. He could have barreled either of them over with ease, but he just ran circles around Graves, making a whiny barking sound all the while.
“Yes,” Graves said, reaching forward and scratching behind his ears. “You’re a good boy.”
“Dogs really do love you.”
“I hate to inform him that I prefer cats.” He patted the dog’s head. “You and Anne would not get along.”
“Anne doesn’t get along with anyone.”
Then at the same time, they both said, “Except Gen.”
She cracked a smile, and his eyes softened at the look before moving away from her and to the goblin who had just appeared out of the back of the shop.
“I admit that I hoped this interaction would come much later,” Rio said. Graves arched an eyebrow, his eyes going to their hand where they held a shiny gold orb as if they were going to use it to defend themself. “If you’re here to kill me, I believe you are mistaken.”