“Is that not a common means of assassination?” Bastion’s scathing voice floated from the door. He leaned against it, breathing heavily as ifhe’ddone anything to stop it. “Seems pretty fucking effective to me.”
“That’s the thing I found strange,” said Lorietta, tearing her lingering gaze from Adelaide. “‘Revenant’ is a broad term for undead creatures usually enchanted by a Conjurer, or reanimated by someone skilled in Alteration. But they don’t attack indiscriminately.”
Garin nodded. “When created, their sole purpose becomes hunting down the person who killed them, or if they died of other causes, those attached to a recent personal vendetta in their mortal life.”
“But he died in front of our eyes,” said Bastion. “Didn’t Kestrel kill him? Why didn’t it slink off after him?”
The adrenaline seeped from Lilac’s body, only to be replaced with dread. “If Kestrel sent the revenant, transformed Hywell into one to give us his message, then why would he have it try to kill me?”
For once, Garin didn’t seem to have an answer. They all looked to Lorietta, who looked uneasy. “Your guesses are as good as mine.”
Lilac inhaled, willing the cool forest air to invigorate her. “Can someone please tell me what this market is?” She glanced sideways at Adelaide, who seemed on the fence of regretting the predicament she’d walked into. “And what do you need from it?”
“The Midraal Market is a nomadic caravan that can only be accessed by Daemons and magic folk,” explained Adelaide, her oche eyes brimming with fascination. “It brings a variety of arcane goods—armor, spices, weapons, magic—from their origin in the east and other magical realms to the western kingdoms and occasionally overseas.”
“Why can’t mortals access it?”
She shot Lilac an annoyed glare. “Because they don’t serve or sell to mortals. Could you imagine what trouble the world as we know it shouldfall into if humans had access to magic they themselves could not harness?”
“It would be like giving a small child a blade,” Lorietta added. “But I hear they are talented Conjurers from an ancient bloodline, and I’m sure their market is warded heavily. It’s the only way they’d be able to make it across the continent without being attacked.”
Lilac’s throat went dry as they all looked at her.Could not be accessed by mortals. “Well, it’s a good thing we’re stealing from them, then.”
Lorietta and Batsion looked uneasy, while Garin’s eyes flickered in excitement.
Even Adelaide’s perpetually irritated expression molded into a reluctant grin. “Speak for yourself. I’m willing to pay or trade, depending on what they carry. Their meticulous schedule brings them throughout Brittany every three hundred years, and they were last here on their merchant pilgrimage in 1340.”
Lilac could do the simple math. “It’s over a century early?”
“Precisely.”
“So… is that good or bad?”
Adelaide shrugged. “Depends on who you ask. I assumed they wouldn’t be stopping to sell to clients this time around, but I figured if I caught up to them I could ask to view their wares. Or beg. Whichever they prefer.”
“You have a point,” Lorietta said slowly. “It seems by Kestrel’s request that the market is in the area acting as courier, and he’s having you intercept it for him.”
Worry flooding through her, Lilac couldn’t help but feel extremely ill-prepared. She barely defeated the slow-moving revenant on her own. She groaned inwardly and looked down at herself, hoping the damage wasn’t too great—and gasped.
“When Garin told me he’d gotten your clothing made with fortifying and anti-staining charms, I laughed,” Lorietta scoffed, an edge to her tone. “I stand corrected.”
“I also asked for a subtle agility charm, but this was denied.”
“Asked who?” Lilac asked, marveling at the like-new kirtle. She looked up at both witches.
“Don’t look at me,” Adelaide said, while Lorietta shook her head. “I don’t waste my time with Alteration.”
He grinned. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”
He could keep his secrets. She’d charm it out of him eventually, because she could definitely do with more of these fine dresses.
“It’s probably the reason she’s still alive,” Bastion mused, hands on his hips. “Right, well, I do hope you all have a fantastic rest of your evening. Stay safe, now. Don’t upset the minions of some eldritch goddess and sink our tiny country into the sea.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” asked Lilac as he slinked toward the shadows.
The vampire turned halfway. “I’m not going to this Midraal Market, that’s for certain.” There was a defensive edge to his uneasy tone. “I’m going to go do what I do best.”
“Complain?”
