They reached a circular courtyard on the banks of a huge underground lake, mist writhing off the water to drift along the ground. Colorful booths and tents stood empty as they passed through, flapping in the breeze like a dead, abandoned carnival. An enormous white tree stood in the very center, bearing fruit that looked like human heads. A narrow door was embedded in the thick trunk, and Ash quickened his pace as they approached. "The Market is through here," he explained, pulling her behind the tree as an ogre lumbered past, its steps slow and ponderous. "Now, listen. Whatever you see in there, dont buy anything, dont offer anything, and dont accept anything, no matter how much you want it. The vendors will try to make a deal with you--ignore them. Keep silent, and keep your eyes on me. Got it?"




Puck scoffed. "Please. I can beat almost anything."

" Entirely by yourself? No. I don't think so. "

She nods, and resumes staring at the ground, trying to ignore the fact her eye feels like it's on fire and the scratch feels like somebody is simultaneously burning and deepfreezing it.

"Ouch, princess. That kinda hurts."




Ash opened the narrow door with a creak and led Isiea inside, shutting it behind him. The interior of the trunk glowed softly and had a putrid sweet smell, like decaying flowers.

"Stay close," Ash whispered, and he pushed the door open again.

Noise exploded through the doorway. The circular courtyard now thronged with life; the booths overflowed with merchandise; music and faery fire drifted through the night, and fey milled about in huge numbers, buying, talking and haggling with the vendors.

" You're still calling me princess? "

She stays right by him. She doesn't have much of a choice; she can't see at all through her left eye, and the pain is blurring her sight in her right eye.

"I mean...you are one, so...yeah."




A faery with a wolf's head stalked through the crowd, carrying a string of severed hands. Ash chuckled darkly. They joined the throng who, despite the jostling, shoving and snarled insults, paid them little attention. Unearthly vendors stood beside their booths or tents, crying out their wares, beckoning to passersby with long fingers or claws. A warty goblin caught Ash's eye and grinned, pointing to his display of necklaces made of fingers, teeth, and bones. A hag waved a shrunken pigs head in Isiea's face, while a hulking troll tried handing her some kind of meat-on-a-stick. It smelled wonderful, except there were crispy bird and rat heads stuck on the kebabs between other unidentifiable chunks. The oddities continued. Dream catchers made of spider silk and infant bones. Monkey Paws and Hands of Glory. One booth had a prominent display of still-beating hearts, while the tent beside it offered flowers of delicate spun glass. Everywhere they looked, they saw wonders, horrors, and the just plain weird. The vendors were incredibly persistent; if they caught you looking, they would leap in front of you, shouting the marvels of their wares and offering "a deal you cant refuse."

" Haven't we been over this? I don't want to be called princess. "

She might as well be blind and deaf at this point. The pain is seriously bad at this point; it's making her ears ring and making her see stars.

"Then what do you want to be called?"





That was not good. At all.

Sometimes, a glare from the Ice prince would cower the more persistent vendors who followed them through the aisles or latched on to ISiea's sleeve, but mostly they just kept moving.

Near the lake, a row of wooden docks floated above the ink-black water. A weathered tavern crouched at the shoreline like a bloated toad. A goblin staggered out holding a tankard, puked all over the sidewalk, and collapsed in it with his face to the sky. Ash stepped over the groaning body and ducked through the swinging doors.