Page 15

Clouds obscured the moonlight on Grafton Street as Kierse and Graves stopped at the back exit to the bookstore where the entrance to Nying Market had been located for hundreds of years.

Already there was a line of humans and monsters alike waiting to get inside.

Goblins stood sentinel at the entrance, selling goblin fruit.

“So many eating the goblin fruit,” Kierse whispered.

“The most addictive substance on the planet,” Graves said.

“And one of the deadliest.”

Like vampires with blood and wraiths with souls, goblin fruit sustained goblins.

Not from specifically eating the fruit, which had no ill effects on them, but by getting others addicted to the fruit.

The temptation, the sin, the euphoria, and then the need, which was all-consuming.

Goblins lived off of the money, but the trade was for their life.

Goblins were not only completely immune to their effects, but their scholars had learned how to harness the energy and life force to power the doors inside.

With that power came an increased vitality for all goblins within the market.

That was why so many chose to stay within its bounds and hawk the fruit.

Though she knew plenty of goblins who refused to sell it and lived on the outside.

It was the reason Kierse had risked everything to get the bracelet. With it, she could trade for a coin and not have to eat the fruit to get inside.

“I shouldn’t bother to ask if you’re certain about this, should I?” Graves asked.

“I robbed the Queen of Versailles to get entrance and then spent all day recharging to full power. I don’t think I’m going to change my mind now.”

“Yes, but you wanted to do that anyway.”

She had, that was true. She used to walk around the Upper East Side and steal from the unsuspecting for a good time. Though bigger scores had always gotten her more jazzed.

Like the spear. Which was currently in its case back at her flat.

Instead, Kierse stood strong in black, knee-high boots and a black, long-sleeve dress, which concealed the gun strapped to her thigh.

She had two others in holsters against her side, hidden by her favorite red jacket—which Graves had tried and failed to talk her out of—and knives tucked into slots under her sleeves.

She had the bracelet in a purse at her waist, ready to exchange it for a coin. She was as prepared as she could be.

“Have you considered the cost at least?” Graves asked. “There will be one, and it’s better to have a few in mind before you go in there.”

“I have a few ideas.”

“As do I,” he said gruffly.

Like he’d thought of what he could possibly pay for her to regain her memories. She couldn’t imagine him doing anything of the sort. But when she looked up into his eyes, she could see something swirling there. As if he really might do it.

“Aye,” Niamh said, sauntering toward them in the line. “There’s still time. We could head up to Temple Bar. Have a pint, music, craic.”

“What are you doing here?” Graves asked.

“You thought I’d let you have all the fun?

” She twirled in place in her houndstooth mini skirt, black tank, and platform heels that brought her eye to eye with Graves.

Her burgundy hair flew out like a fan around the shoulders of her faux-fur coat.

“A girl can enjoy the market even when there’s nothing to buy. ”

“You’re eating goblin fruit now?”

“Snagged a coin from HQ,” she said with a wink at Kierse.

“You just have coins hanging around?” Kierse asked in exasperation.

“I wouldn’t say they were lying around, but a girl knows where to look.”

Graves released a low breath. “Druids.”

Niamh linked her arm with Kierse. “We’ll be so inconspicuous.”

Kierse couldn’t help but laugh. It was hard to dislike Niamh. Though Graves was doing a good job of it.

The trio filed into the back of the line.

Two goblins were moving down the line, selling the fruit to each person.

In front of them, a teen girl with sallow skin and clothes barely hanging on her thin frame took a little reddish-purple fruit in her hands and immediately bit into the meat.

The juice ran down her chin, but her face showed only a look of pure ecstasy.

Graves stood stone-faced, and Niamh could barely contain her disgust, but Kierse felt nothing but pity.

She had seen the same thing on the streets during the Monster War.

Jason always kicked out any of his thieves in the guild who got addicted.

There was no point. Even if there were a cure, no one wanted it.

Luckily, publicly distributing the fruit was made illegal, and most of the crops were destroyed after the Monster Treaty was signed in the city.

Goblins raged about the hypocrisy since humans could still be blood donors to vampires and soul patrons to wraiths and the like.

But people could survive that; humans didn’t survive goblin fruit.

They stepped forward as the girl headed through the gate, munching on her fruit. The goblin at the entrance was roughly Kierse’s height with a humanoid appearance save for the greige tint to his skin, long, wide, pointed ears, and deep, inset forehead around unnaturally large eyes.

“Fruit?” he asked, gesturing to a carton filled with the reddish purple fruit. They almost looked like plums the size of apples, with the skin of a peach.

“No,” Graves growled.

“Pass,” Niamh agreed.

“Hello again. Remember me?” Kierse said.

The goblin glanced at Kierse and then revealed a row of razor-sharp incisors. “Ah, little girl, did you bring me my bracelet?” He laughed uproariously and elbowed another goblin at his side.

Kierse tugged the bracelet out of the small bag and twirled it before him.

The goblin’s jaw dropped open in shock. “Blessed ore.”

The other goblin punched him in the arm. “Fucking hell, Fraan, is that what I think it is?”

“It is,” Fraan said, slack jawed.

“Where’d you get that?” the second goblin demanded.

“Off a queen,” Kierse told him. “And it’s the price you claimed I needed to pay to get a coin inside.”

“It was a joke, Chots,” Fraan said. He pushed the other goblin away and held his grubby hand out. His nails were nearly black and razor sharp. “I’ll take that off your hands.”

“Rio is going to want to see that,” Chots said.

“Shut the fuck up,” Fraan said, shoving him away irritably. Chots clamped his mouth shut.

Nying Market translated to “gift market,” and the motto over the entrance read A gift for a gift .

And while there was always a cost to get in the market, they made it obscenely high because they wanted more people to get addicted to the goblin fruit.

So she was unsurprised that they were trying to dick her around when she could easily become another cog in their machine.

“We can all agree that’s not a fair price,” Graves argued.

“This is clearly worth more than the price of entrance,” Kierse agreed.

“Doesn’t fucking matter,” Fraan snarled. “We agreed. Fair and square.”

“You said it was a joke,” Niamh countered.

“That’s not how the market works,” Fraan said.

“We all know you were dicking me around because you thought there was no way for me to get my hands on this bracelet,” Kierse said. “But I delivered. So why don’t we figure out a good trade?”

“You really took it off a queen?” Chots asked.

“I said shut the fuck up, Chots!” Fraan bellowed.

His bulging eyes narrowed, and he plucked a shiny gold coin half the size of her palm out of his pocket.

“This is what you asked for, and by rights of the market, you agreed in good faith to the trade. Going back on it now would be against the goblin code.”

Chots eyes widened. “Fraangyng!”

Graves sighed as if he had anticipated something like this and stepped up next to her, casually placing his hand on a gun at his waist.

Kierse glanced around and saw that the goblins who had been stationed at the doors had noticed their confrontation and were heading toward them. They had battle axes resting on their shoulders and AK-47s slung into position in their arms, ready to fight.

“Uh,” she muttered. “What just happened?”

“He called you a cheat,” Niamh said.

“And they take that kind of thing very seriously,” Graves added.

Taking a battle axe to the head was not her idea of a good time, but Kierse was confident she could take on a few goblins. With Graves and Niamh at her back, maybe more than a few. Still, they were on goblin turf. This was not a fight she wanted to engage in.

“Fine,” Kierse said, holding the bracelet out. “A gift for a gift.”

Fraangyng grinned wider and signaled to the approaching goblins. They stopped in their tracks, then retreated to their positions. Fraan snatched the bracelet from her hand and dropped the coin into her palm. “Happy doing business with you.”

Kierse fumed. “Sure thing.”

His large eyes lifted to Graves and Niamh. “You’ll have to pay separate.”

Graves revealed his own coin. “I’m good.”

“Same,” Niamh said cheerfully. “Well, this was lovely. Think we’ll move along so you can sell someone else into goblin fruit addiction.”

“Niamh,” Graves grumbled.

“Right. Right.”

Kierse hooked arms with Niamh and hurried toward the large double doors labeled Nying Market in large letters across the top.

Graves was at their back. “And look, you didn’t even have to kill anyone.”

“There’s still time,” Kierse said as she flipped the coin back and forth across her knuckles.

“There was almost time back there,” Niamh said.

“We could have taken them,” Kierse said.

Graves shrugged. “Probably.”

“Are you two always like this?” Niamh asked. She blew her bangs out of her eyes.

“No,” Graves said at the same time Kierse said, “Yes.”

“Got it. No wonder Lorcan wanted me to watch you,” Niamh said with a shake of her head. “Anyone who can keep Graves on his toes must be valuable.”

“That’s not the half of it,” Kierse told her.

Niamh glanced between them. “I don’t know if I even want to know. I’ve been avoiding Lorcan’s bullshit for so long. I was hoping to go a little longer.”

“I fear you’re out of luck,” Graves told her.

“I fear that as well,” Niamh said with a sigh. “Well, should we do the thing?”

Kierse nodded. “Let’s fucking do it.”

Then she pulled the doors open, stepping forward into the goblin market.