Page 502 of Kingdoms of Night

He schooled his face into an authoritative expression. “I told you I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

“I’m not leaving this stall, maybe even this side, for a while. Nothing is going to happen if you put a few feet between us.”

Baltasar started to object, but I shoved at him.

“Look, I can’t focus with you both hovering over my shoulder. So, please, give me some breathing room and go buy her something!”

Thankfully, he gave in, handed me one of the money pouches and followed Suzianna.

That should give them some alone time, and me some space to think.

I spent what felt like half an hour discussing the efficiency of love potions with the brewer, and trying to make him understand what I wanted. “A magical brew that created intense feelings of love, not an aphrodisiac!”

“Miss, there is no such thing.”

Panic rendered me shrill, like I was a child. “What do you mean? There has to be, how else did they garner such a reputation?”

The brewer crossed his arms, stretching the folded membranes of his connected wings. “Through misinformation. The reported ‘love potions’ are droughts to create lust or infatuation. If love could be bottled, we’d all be on it, and life would go a lot smoother.”

“You’re right about that.” I slouched in defeat, fighting back the urge to wail. “Thank you for your time.”

Making way for the next customer, I moved along the sellers’ line to find something to distract me from being consumed by my panic.

What was I going to do now? Was there anything I could do?

In the effort to maintain composure, I focused on breathing in and out, and let my attention wander to anything that could absorb it.

A spark captured me, turning my head so fast my neck popped. The source was a few stalls down, with a growing crowd of curious shoppers. I followed them, ducking under arms and in between bodies to reach the front and see what had intrigued us all.

The seller was an old woman with withered wings, yellow-green skin and white hair in a crowning braid. Her stall displayed a variety of lanterns on hooks, but the one that had called to me hung from her hand.

It was afanous, like those we used in festivals back home. A simple yet striking iron, rectangular design, its handle emerged from a two-tiered dome above framed glass. Tinted borders held and divided the delicate, welded pattern of small, connecting polygons that formed the floral outline in the center. And through them all burned the searing violet-white light.

“Celebrate the birthdays of the gods, as well as your newborns, with this miracle,” she announced. “Forget candles and gas, for I have captured lightning! Not in a bottle, but in a lantern!”

Heavenly fire!

Not just any heavenly light, but contained within glass to maximize brightness and filtered to prevent burning.

There was no denying that this was my final chance. It didn’t matter if it was ridiculous to entertain at this point, I had to try. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t.

I threw myself to the front, ready to climb onto the stall. “How much do you want for it?”

The woman held the lantern back, casting me a glare of pure disdain. “This isn’t for sale. It is a display for my services, where I can come to replace the gas in people’s homes with the charge of lightning.”

I threw the money pouch onto the booth, and it rained out a pearl-like currency. “I don’t have time for that. I need that lantern now.”

The show of wealth changed her tune. She handed me the lantern with an eager grin. “Be careful with it now, lightning is very volatile and can become catastrophic if misused.”

I accepted it with bated breath and wasted no time bolting back to my companions, screaming to be taken back. I didn’t care how much attention I attracted, or if the amount I paid for the lightning lantern had stoked suspicion.

All else could be dealt with once the most important task had been achieved: Seeing my husband.

CHAPTERFOURTEEN

An age had passed between the moment I acquired the lantern and when my hand closed around the door handle.

Suzianna had parted with us on a lower floor, gone to store her etched crystal jug, while Baltasar escorted me back to Tamuz’s quarters.

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