“Abbi,” Lu called. “Wait.” Lu turned her shoulders and squeezed around a family group that was browsing a do-it-yourself metal sign booth, moving in one knot and effectively blocking three quarters of the aisle.
I tried the same move, but there wasn’t enough room. When I tried stepping around them on the other side, a man in a wheelchair coming my way took up all the space, and behind him were shoulder-to-shoulder shoppers, some lugging large bags. One was trying to maneuver a half-size windmill vane roughly the size of a compact car between booths.
I lost sight of Lu, I lost sight of Abbi. But it wouldn’t be too hard to catch up with them. It was a good bet Abbi would eventually end up at the candy stand.
I waited until there was a break in the foot traffic, then rambled off the way they’d gone, looking for Lu’s distinctive red hair, or the bob of Abbi’s white. I am a tall man, but even from the advantage of my height, I couldn’t see either of them.
They must have continued on down the next aisle. I wove through the crowd, past a booth selling twigs and branches—just cut twigs and branches tied into bundles—for a price that made my eyes water, then one filled with hubcaps, and another with broken window frames and rusted milk jugs.
All of the booths were crowded with people, and lines of customers streamed out from the pay points. I’d thought the “junk” in Junk Hunt was just a play on words, but these people took it seriously, and I heard “farm life” and “cottage cute” and more variations on “eclectic” and “earthy” than I could count.
I finally made it to the end of the aisle and put my back to the wall to scan as much of the room as I could.
Still no Lu. Still no Abbi.
“Brogan?” a man’s voice asked.
I knew that voice: Mat Davis.
I took a step, intending to ignore the hell outta the guy, but his hand fell on my shoulder, and he gave me a hearty pat.
“Brogan! It’s so good to see you. I like the earring. Is Lula here too? Listen to me. She must be if you are. How wonderful is this to run into you again?”
“Are you following us?”
“What?” His eyebrows shot up, and somehow that expression made him look even more thin and washed out. “Of course not. I’m looking for…well, valuable things.” He executed a wink that could be seen from the nosebleed section. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
I shook my head, but that only brought a smile to his face. “No, don’t deny it. You don’t have to tell me, but I’ll share this with you. I got a tip that there might be some unique items here. Things people will pay large amounts for.”
A woman walked by with a LIVE LAUGH LOVE painting that was anything but unique.
Mat chuckled. “Not that everything is going to fit that bill. But I heard,” he leaned toward me and lowered his voice, “I heard there might be magical items here. And I know,” he leaned back, “I know you don’t believe in that stuff, but if you’d just give me a chance to show you that magic is real, I think it would do you a great service. There are collectors who will pay outstanding amounts for something with even a whiff of magic. You and Lula could be set for life.”
“We’re fine, thanks.” I started off to the next aisle.
“There’s a book,” he said.
It wasn’t loud. It didn’t have to be because he’d followed me, right up on my heels.
I stopped.
This was foolish, thinking he was talking about the book we were looking for.
There were a lot of books in the world, and many, many of them contained magic. But Cupid had told us to come to this place.
The seer had told us to come to this place.
Hell, even Headwaters has known there was something here.
I would be a fool to ignore three arrows pointing at the same center.
“All right,” I said. “I’ll bite. What book?”
His face glowed like I’d just announced my undying friendship. “Oh, I really think you’ll like it. It’s not like anything I’ve ever seen. It’s this way.” He started off, and when he realized I wasn’t moving, he stopped.
When had it ever been a good idea to follow Mad Mat Davis anywhere?
Maybe when the one thing we were tasked to find by the god we more or less owed our lives to might be in his possession.
