He shook his head, his smile still in place. “How long do you think you were in the Den?”
He waited while I calculated, stroking Penrose’s velvety ears.
Finally, I answered, “Half a day. Seven, eight hours.”
The Merchant nodded toward the window. It should’ve been night, the city a dark blanket lit by electric studs of light, but instead, it showed the hot glare of afternoon sunlight glinting off metal and glass.
“Two minutes twenty seconds.”
“What?” I asked, staring at the hazy blue sky.
“You were gone two minutes twenty seconds. From the moment the Den grabbed you to the moment you shot out. It felt like half a day to you, but here, it was only two minutes.”
A slow, creeping panic slid through me.
The Merchant looked at his watch. “You’ve been here now for four minutes forty seconds. In there, almost a full day has passed. Maybe more. Time there jumps around in fits and starts. It’s not stable like it is here.”
“He’s . . .”
The Merchant nodded. “Isn’t it funny?”
No.
No, it was not.
“He’s either dead already or wishes he were. Or maybe he’s gone and joined the depraved. Either way, you’re too late. You were too late the second you landed in my hallway again. Anyway, on to business. What can I do for you? What delights can I entice you with? How much money do you have, and how much can I part you with?”
No.
Justice had experienced a full day.
Every four minutes that passed, he experienced another?
In there.
Alone.
The Merchant tsked, and Penrose swished his tail in annoyance. “I can see you’re distracted. Listen. You’re not going back. I won’t send you out that route. It’s bad for business if people die on my property. Forget about it.”
“Mari—” Luvic began.
But Last cleared her throat. “Excuse me. That short creature—that disgusting thing—it slipped out the window.”
Sure enough, the glass casement window the Merchant had pointed to was now partially open. A hot breeze fanned over us, scented with metal and baking concrete.
“Also,” she sighed, “do you mean to tell me, Mari, you’re upset because the creature was left in the Den? Why? It was incredible there. I would live there if I could. No Primus. No Principal. That one”—she pointed at Luvic and gave his bloodied face a disgusted lip curl—“was a big, fuzzy tabby cat. He couldn’t talk. That’s a dream come true. All he did was bat at butterflies and carry me on his back.” She turned to the Merchant. “Do you have an object that turns people into cats? He was almost bearable.”
The Merchant started to nod, then he noticed the violent look on Luvic’s face and shook his head. “Nope. Sorry.”
Last shrugged. “Oh well. I guess it’s back to plan A.”
Plan A involved killing Luvic as soon as she was pregnant. She gave me a conspiratorial smile.
“I’m sure your creature friend is happy there as long as he has plenty of people to kill,” she said, “since that is apparently his preferred pastime. Accept it. Move on.”
I narrowed my eyes.
Luvic cleared his throat and stepped next to me, putting himself between me and Last. Then he turned and gave the Merchant a bloody smile. “Thanks for seeing us,” he said.
