V.E Schwab - A Darker Shade of Magic

Lila reached for the nearest charm, a lovely blue-green stone the color of the open sea—at least, the color she imagined it must be, the color she’d seen it painted—with small white marks, like breaking waves. But when her fingers curled around it, a hot pain seared across her skin.

She gasped, more from the shock of being burned than the heat itself, and pulled back sharply, hand singing. Before she could retreat, the merchant caught her by the wrist.

“Kers la?” he demanded. When she didn’t answer—couldn’t answer—he started shouting faster and louder, the words blurring together in her ears.

“Unhand me,” she demanded.

The merchant’s brow furrowed at the sound of her voice. “What you think?” he said, in guttural English. “You get free by speaking fancy?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” snapped Lila. “Now let go .”

“Speak Arnesian . Speak English. Doesn’t matter. Still gast . Still thief.”

“I am not a gast ,” growled Lila.

“ Viris gast. Fool thief. Tries to steal from enchanted tent.”

“I didn’t know it was enchanted,” countered Lila, reaching for the dagger at her waist.

“Pilse,” growled the merchant, and Lila had a feeling she’d just been insulted. And then the merchant raised his voice. “Strast!” he shouted, and Lila twisted in his grip to see armored guards at the edge of the market. “Strast!” he called again, and one of the men cocked his head and turned toward them.

Shit , thought Lila, wrenching free of the merchant’s grip, only to stumble back into another set of hands. They tightened on her shoulders and she was about to draw her knife when the merchant went pale.

“Mas aven,” he said, hunching forward into a bow.

The hands holding Lila vanished, and she spun to find Kell standing there, frowning his usual frown and staring past her at the merchant.

“What is the meaning of this?” he asked, and Lila didn’t know which surprised her more: his sudden appearance, the way he spoke to the merchant—his voice cool, dismissive—or the way the merchant looked at him, with a mixture of awe and fear.

Kell’s auburn hair was pushed back, his black eye on display in the red morning light.

“ Aven vares. If I knew she was with y-you …” stammered the merchant before lapsing back into Arnesian, or whatever the language was called. Lila was surprised to hear the tongue pour out of Kell’s mouth in response as he tried to calm the merchant. And then she caught that word again, gast , on the merchant’s tongue and lunged for him. Kell hauled her back.

“Enough,” Kell snarled in her ear. “Solase,” he said to the merchant, apologetically. “She’s a foreigner . Uncivilized, but harmless.”

Lila shot him a dark look.

“Anesh, mas vares,” said the merchant, bowing even lower. “Harmful enough to steal …” With his head down, the merchant didn’t see Kell look back over his shoulder at the guard weaving through the market toward them. He didn’t see the way Kell stiffened. But Lila did.

“I will buy whatever she tried to take,” said Kell hastily, digging a hand in the pocket of his coat, unconcerned by the fact Lila was still wearing it.

The merchant straightened and started shaking his head. “ An. An. I cannot be taking money from you.”

The guard was getting closer, and Kell clearly didn’t want to be there when he arrived, because he fetched a coin from the coat and set it on the table with a snap.

“For your trouble,” he said, turning Lila away. “Vas ir.”

He didn’t wait for the merchant’s answer, only shoved Lila through the crowd, away from the stall and the guard about to reach it.

“Uncivilized?” growled Lila as Kell clasped her shoulder and guided her out of the market.

“Five minutes!” said Kell, sliding his coat from her shoulders and back onto his own, flicking up the collar. “You can’t keep your hands to yourself for five minutes! Tell me you haven’t already gone and sold off the stone.”

Lila let out an exasperated noise. “Unbelievable,” she snapped as he led her out of the throngs and away from the river, toward one of the narrower streets. “I’m so glad you’re all right, Lila,” she parroted. “Thank God using the stone didn’t rip you into a thousand thieving pieces.”

Kell’s hand loosened on her shoulder. “I can’t believe it worked.”

“Don’t sound so excited,” shot Lila drily.

Kell came to a stop and turned her toward him. “I’m not,” he said. His blue eye looked troubled, his black unreadable. “I’m glad you’re unhurt, Lila, but the doors between worlds are meant to be locked to all but Antari , and the fact that the stone granted you passage only proves how dangerous it is. And every moment it’s here, in my world, I’m terrified.”

Lila found her eyes going to the ground. “Well, then,” she said. “Let’s get it out of here.”

A small grateful smile crossed Kell’s lips. And then Lila dug the stone out of her pocket and held it up, and Kell let out a dismayed sound and swallowed her hand with his, hiding the stone from sight. Something flickered through his eyes when he touched her, but she didn’t think it was her touch that moved him. The stone gave a strange little shudder in her hand, as if it felt Kell and wanted to be with him. Lila felt vaguely insulted.

“Sanct!” he swore at her. “Just hold it up for all to see, why don’t you.”

“I thought you wanted it back!” she shot back, exasperated. “There’s no winning with you.”

“Just keep it,” he hissed. “And for king’s sake, keep it out of sight.”

Lila shoved it back into her cloak and said a very many unkind things under her breath.

“And on the topic of language,” said Kell, “you cannot speak so freely here. English is not a common tongue.”

“I noticed that. Thanks for the warning.”

“I told you the worlds would be different. But you’re right, I should have warned you. Here English is a tongue used by the elite, and those who wish to mingle with them. Your very use of it will cause you to stand out.”

Lila’s eyes narrowed. “What would you have me do? Not speak?”

“The thought had crossed my mind,” said Kell. Lila scowled. “But as I doubt that’s possible for you, I’d ask that you simply keep your voice down.” He smiled, and Lila smiled back, resisting the urge to break his nose.

“Now that that’s settled …” He turned to go.

“Pilse,” she grumbled, hoping it meant something foul indeed as she fell into step behind him.

II

Aldus Fletcher was not an honest man.

He ran a pawnshop in an alley by the docks, and each day, men came off the boats, some with things they wanted, others with things they wanted to be rid of. Fletcher provided for both. And for the locals, too. It was a truth widely known in the darker corners of Red London that Fletcher’s shop was the place for anything you shouldn’t have.

Now and again honest folk wandered in, of course, wanting to find or dispose of smoking pipes and instruments, scrying boards and rune stones and candlesticks, and Fletcher didn’t mind padding the shop with their wares as well, in case the royal guard came to inspect. But his true trade lay in risk and rarity.