It was interesting that Lady Penelope’s thoughts were travelling in a similar direction to my own, but I didn’t want her to find me here. I doubted she’d appreciate my eavesdropping even though it sounded like she was more of a friend to me than I’d realised.
I scurried towards She Without An Ear, fumbling my way through the darkness until I heard a tiny miaow. I reached down and felt around for my backpack then swung it onto my shoulders.
‘Come on,’ I whispered to the cat. ‘Time to vamoose.’
The vampire marketplacewas empty and very, very dark. The stalls were shrouded and only a single lantern in the centre lit the area. I checked my watch. It was not long past four. Although the sun wouldn’t set for several more hours, I reckoned the market would be a hive of activity far earlier than that but for now I could look around unimpeded. Naturally, I made a beeline for Trilby’s stall.
I didn’t feel a single thread of guilt for snooping as I lifted the sheet covering their stall’s wares. There weren’t any magical protections in place and there certainly wasn’t a ward.Apparently vampires were a more trustworthy bunch than your typical Danksville resident because no stallholder at the riverside market would dare leave their stuff lying out in the open and unattended for hours.
The items weren’t vastly different from those which Trilby sold above ground: a few trinkets and amulets, some magical ingredients, which admittedly were hard to get hold of, and a random selection of bejewelled containers. If this market was anything like the riverside version, Trilby would keep the good stuff under the counter. Literally.
I crouched down for a quick rummage. There was only one box, and I felt a jolt when I opened it up and checked what was inside. I wasn’t sure what all the contents were but I recognised the witchlight bottle in the corner as a version similar to the one Trilby sometimes sold at the riverside market.
I picked it up and turned it over; the seller’s mark was etched on the underside. I grunted faintly and replaced it in the box. When I saw what was lying next to the witchlight, I narrowed my eyes. Huh: without a shadow of a doubt, it was magicked catnip. I already knew there wasn’t a market for cat-related products in the Understream, so Trilby had placed the catnip there for a reason.
‘Well played,’ I muttered and started to close the box. Then I thought better of it, reached inside and pocketed the catnip. It was a message for me and it would be rude to ignore it – and it would help me keep She Without An Ear in line, although I’d only use it under extreme circumstances. If Trilby was upset that I’d nabbed their catnip, they knew where to find me.
She Without An Ear’s eyes gleamed. ‘No,’ I said firmly. ‘It’s for emergencies only.’
She doubled down, widening her eyes, tilting her head and affecting a purr. When that didn’t work, she flopped ontothe stone ground and rolled around a few times, though she never took her gaze from me. She knew exactly what she was doing.
‘Cute,’ I said and very deliberately put the catnip into my back pocket.
She returned to all four paws, raised her head and gave me a very feline pout.
‘If I give you some we’ll lose an hour to your ensuing delirium,’ I told her. ‘And I have plans. I don’t want to waste any time.’
She offered me a questioning look.
‘Four suspects,’ I said. ‘Trilby will be dealing with their stall above ground. The shifty thrall and that damned Maine Coon could be anywhere. That leaves only one for us to investigate right now.’
Her single ear twitched.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘He’ll likely be sleeping and that will make it much easier for us to snoop around.’ I grinned and started marching towards the worm stables.
Whether Anthony,the grumpy worm caretaker, was tucked up in his coffin or not, some of the worms were still working. I was less than twenty metres from the front entrance to the stables when there was a loud grinding sound.
Out of instinct rather than a desire to remain hidden, I pressed myself against the wall. She Without An Ear froze and pinned back her ear. The warm glow of a head lantern advertised what was happening as one of the worms appeared.
It wasn’t Dusty; this worm was far smaller in comparison and more like the one I’d seen the first time I’d sneaked into the Understream. Female, perhaps, although I had no way oftelling. She slid out from the wide entrance and, without pausing or turning in our direction, headed away from us.
Unlike Dusty, she didn’t have a seating contraption strapped to her back. She was probably too small for anything like that and doubtless could only carry one – or perhaps two – passengers at a time. I reckoned this had to be one of the younger worms.
Youngling or not, She Without An Ear hissed menacingly and raised a threatening paw in the worm’s direction before sending me a hopeful glance.
‘No,’ I said drily. ‘I won’t pull out that catnip to distract you. If you try and take on a worm again, you’re on your own.’
I didn’t wait for her answering huff before I peeled away from the wall and darted towards the stable entrance. ‘Wait there,’ I called softly over my shoulder.
I needn’t have bothered because She Without An Ear remained exactly where I’d left her. She might be a brave fighter with the scars to prove it, but she wasn’t stupid. She wasn’t planning to enter the worms’ lair unless she had to. Fair enough.
Taking more care now that I was inside, I moved forward. The sudden appearance of the worm made me wonder if Anthony was awake despite the hour. I reasoned that the worms probably worked around the clock to serve the needs of the vampiric community and that, fanged or not, Anthony had to sleep at some point, but nevertheless I proceeded slowly and as soundlessly as possible.
The inside of the stables was wider than I’d expected. Shelves lined the walls holding spare lanterns and seating frames for the larger worms but I bypassed them in favour of the board on the far wall, which had the worms’ names, days and times scratched onto it. This had to be their daily schedule.
I noted that the names of the four missing worms werestill there although their schedules were blank and my mouth tightened. I was starting to think that whatever had happened to those poor creatures must have been very unpleasant.
I pushed ahead past a bright-yellow sign that warned that my entrails would be roasted over an open fire if I dared to enter, then crossed another painted yellow streak on the floor into what appeared to be the worms’ main living area.
