Beth Wonders's Arc

Chapter 2 of 29

Beth spent every last coin on the star piece. Now her purse hung flat against her hip, and the salesman's notes had made her skin itch for two days. She needed more silver, fast, or the world in her mirror would stay a single glowing crumb forever. She tried the market first. The bread seller crossed her arms. The candle woman shook her head before Beth finished the sentence. "No credit for witches," one of them said. "Last one skipped town on a broom." Beth showed teeth. It did not help. Her cat trotted ahead down the lane, six-toed paws quiet in the dust. He stopped outside a wooden stall wrapped in warm light. The sign said margaritas. The window smelled like salt and something that was not quite lime. Beth followed him in because she was out of better ideas. A vampire sat at the far end of the bar. Pale hands. Red eyes. Black hair down his back. He was reading a folded paper and ignoring the drink in front of him. Beth had never met him, but every witch in the woods knew the rumor: a rogue vampire was dragging their kind into daylight, and this one hunted him. He looked like bad company. She sat down anyway. "You buying?" she said. "I'm broke." He did not look up. "No." "Rude." She leaned an elbow on the bar. "I have information. You have coins. That's a trade." He folded the paper. "What information." "There's a salesman at the crossroads behind my cathedral. Wears a coat made of night. He writes things down about the people he buys from. He's watching someone." She paused. "Could be your someone." Elijah's eyes moved to her for the first time. "Describe him." She did. The coat. The unmoving smile. The notebook. He listened without a twitch. "Fifteen silver," he said. "Fifty." "Twenty." "Forty." "Twenty-five. Final." Beth held out her palm. He counted the coins into it, cold fingers, no wasted motion. Then he stood. "Show me the crossroads," he said. "That wasn't part of the deal." "It is now." She weighed the coins. Twenty-five would buy half a star piece. Half a star piece was better than nothing, and she could not spend it if a vampire snapped her neck for wasting his time. She slid off the stool. Outside, the cat wound around her boots. She reached into her coat for the branch-framed mirror to check the star piece was still safe in its pocket dimension. The pocket was empty. The moon-petals were gone. The spider silk was gone. The star piece she had paid forty coins for was gone. Only a single silver rose sat in the glass, black thorns bright against the dark, left where her savings used to be. Beth stared at it. Somebody had reached into her mirror. Somebody had left a signature. "Change of plans," she said. "We're going to the crossroads now."