She frowned. “If I’m looking at the door anyway, then that’s not very useful.”
“Exactly. Completely useless if you’re not looking in its direction. I’ve heard of office workers keeping a small plant on their desk to warn them when their boss is sneaking up on them.”
“Oh! That’s smart. I should pick one up for Maa. Her new boss is a total micromanager.”
“Ah, that must be the madam she referred to on the phone.”
“Yup.”
“We’ll come back right before we leave, so we don’t need to carry the plant the whole time,” I smirked. “And while you’re still here. I can use it to warn me of you, Trouble.”
She elbowed me, but her smile didn’t fade.
We kept moving, past tables of normal and magical herbs and vegetables. Meera paused at a pile of gnarled, metallic tubers.
“Dried iron root,” I said. “Grated into food, it helps with iron deficiency and boosts stamina.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What’s the catch?” she asked, her eyes flickering back to the almost useful tea of truth and warning plant. She was catching on to the nature of many of the wares available for sale here; there were often strings attached.
I almost laughed. “It tastes like dirt if you’re not actually iron-deficient.”
“That’s not bad then. I think I’ll grab some. I’m always struggling with low iron.”
“Most women are,” said the lady behind the stall. “You don’t need much. I put mine in a pepper grinder and just do a few twists on my food once a day the week before my moon time.”
Meera paid for her iron root, refusing to let me help with it because it was for personal use.
When we reached the baked goods, my gaze gravitated directly to a tray of candied apples, the kind with the thick, glossy coating that cracked when you bit into them. But Meera’s eyes were on the caramel apples in the same display.
“Ooh!” Meera’s eyes lit up. “Those look amazing.”
We watched the vendor, a burly man with a thick, red beard, drizzle chocolate over a fresh batch of caramelly goodness.
I bought two, handed one to her, and took a bite of mine. The caramel was sweet and sticky, and exactly the reason why I was glad I wasn’t pure stone after all. I’d never want to give up eating. Meera was having a little more trouble breaking into her apple, getting more caramel on her face than apple in her mouth.
I held mine out for her so she could get a bite with a perfect mix of apple, caramel, and chocolate drizzle. “Here.”
She hesitated, then leaned in, her eyes meeting mine as she took the bite. I was immediately transported back to my room with her writhing under me. I forgot about the market, the egg, everything but the way she looked at me.
“Good?” I asked, my voice rough.
She nodded, licking a smear of caramel from her lip. “Perfect.”
“I am jealous of an apple.”
She smirked. “You’ll get your turn… later.”
The little troublemaker! I wanted to kiss her right there, in the middle of the crowd. But I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stop with just a kiss. And being that distracted wouldn’t be the best idea, considering her ex was still out there. But from what we knew, he was merely human. If he so much as tried to lay a finger on her, he’d regret it.
We continued through the market stalls, sharing the caramel apples until all I had left in my hands were two little sticks. I scanned the market for a trash can.
“Stay right here. I’m going to toss these,” I said, spotting a bin halfway hidden behind one of the nearby stalls.
I glanced back at Meera, who was licking the last bit of caramel from her fingers. She looked happy and relaxed, and I couldn’t help the warm feeling blooming in my chest.
But as I made my way back to her, something tickled at my periphery. A sinking feeling that would’ve turned my gut into lead, if it wasn’t already stone. I paused, scanning the crowd. The market hummed with its usual noise: vendors hawking their wares, shoppers haggling, children laughing. Nothing seemed remotely out of place, but the back of my neck prickled all the same.
I saw them moments before a scream rang out. Three figures stood at the edge of the crowd, too dead to be alive and too alive to be dead. Ghouls! The figures shuffled toward Meera, their gnarled and claw-like hands reaching out toward her like they were trying to claim her. They lifted their noses like hounds, locating her through scent, since their eyes were too decayed to see. Their skin was mottled gray and sickly-looking. I was sure that if I looked harder, I’d see maggots writhing just beneath the surface.
