The cold metal sang against Alison's neck.
Her entire body tensed up and she reached the revolver that was strapped to her thigh, preparing for a fight. Alison was particularly adept at fighting... and shooting. She gripped her fist, and felt comforted at the touch of her brass knuckles.
Around her, the market still buzzed. Threats of murder were a commonplace in the market, and in the very city itself. Not a single creature stopped to help. None of them ever would.
In this city, rotten and poisoned to its very core, no one would ever stop and help unless it somehow benefited them.
Suddenly, she felt the decadent rings against her back. Alison grabbed the knife and wrenched it off her neck. She had cut herself, just a bit.
Alison wiped off her ruby red blood on the man's gaudy waistcoat. "I absolutely detest you!" she exclaimed, laughing. "Matthew, get off, you great oaf!"
Matthew wrapped her in a hug, and she felt better, for just a moment. "How are you, Alis?" he inquired, calling her by her old nickname.
"Do not call me that." she chastised. "Abbreviations do not indicate the height of sophistication!"
"And since when were you the height of sophistication?" Alison looked up at Matthew. Her greatest friend, closest companion. His great, charming smile was on display, perhaps wooing whatever old hags were currently in the shadow market. And to be honest, everyone else everywhere. It was truly a spectacular smile.
Matthew looked like someone who was meant to be present in a Renaissance painting. He had a gorgeous, sharp and well defined jaw, and full cupids bow lips. He had beautiful pale green eyes, the color of kiwis. Matthew's jelled, sandy blonde hair finished the fine look. He always dressed expensively, in the best styles and fashions. He wore so many rings on his fingers, which looked like they were meant for a piano player. Matthew was beautiful.
He was human, though not completely. He was a changeling, stolen away by the Queen of the fey at a young age. She had been struck by his human beauty. The fey loved peculiar humans, and the Queen loved the boy she had raised as a son so. She gave Matthew practically free reign of anywhere in the world.
They had met at the market, when they were children. Alison's grandmother did not approve of their friendship, but she had allowed it to continue all these years. Most likely because of his connection to the fey Queen. It was very strategic, Alison had to admit.
"Are you drunk? Why are you here?"
"Maybe I am a little drunk." He admitted. "Perhaps the better question is why are you here?" He looked concerned. His bright eyes darkened. "Is it because of your grandmother? What is she making you do? Is it dangerous?"
"No," she lied, to her greatest friend, right through her teeth. He need not to worry about her. "I am here to watch the fairies dance. Perhaps I will join them."
"Sure." Matthew replied, not totally believing. "Do you want to come with me to Lee Emery's tavern tonight?"
Emery's was a tavern, open to all, chalk full of every odd creature in the entire world. And "free sexual beings," as Matthew put it. Whatever that meant.
"Hmmm..." she teased.
"Come on!" Matthew exclaimed, his lush voice accenting. It was deep and rich. Mesmerizing. He had said he had learned it from the fey. He had learned much from them.
"Fine." she sighed. Her grandmother would be none too pleased about this. "I need to have some fun."
"Yes!" Matthew exclaimed. "Oh dear, I am so excited. You seldom come to parties." It was true. Her grandmother always had her doing some dangerous and increasingly terrible and grotesque task.
"Just let me take care of this." she gestured to the shadow market. "I'll meet you there at ten o clock sharp. I need to put on my dancing dress."
"Alrighty, my dear." he said.
"Do not be such a flirt." Alison hit him in the shoulder of his fitted suit with her leather clutch.
"Goodbye, madam." Matthew said, and kissed her ringed fingers. "Oh, look, there is Alucard. Best I go talk to him." Matthew sauntered off to talk to the handsome-horned fey warrior standing in the corner, selling finely made weapons.
Alison watched him go, and when he was not looking, disappeared into the spells section of the market. It was a the worst, most dangerous, and volatile place in the already worrisome market.
Being a suggenne, she could cast spells. The breed could make charms. They were not like warlocks, though. Suggennes had to utilize nature to perform their magic. They made little charms that bound the spells. They were like witches, in a sense. They were best known for their irritability to poisons, and the infamous way that they drank it like wine. Really, just to show that they could. Suggennes were also fabulous manipulators, most coming under a trance when they were willed to. They were vengeful creatures.
Best to not get in her way.
She walked, feeling confident, chin up, towards to booth. Alison made sure to accentuate the gruesome cuts on her arm, which marked her as one of the rare users of blood magic. Besides her grandmother, she was the only user in the states. She showed her extravagant jewelry. off. The clear vial hanging around her pale neck, filled with crimson blood and marked with a symbol that looked like a teardrop, distinguished her clearly as a suggenne.
She pulled out a crumpled, rolled piece of paper her grandmother had given her this morning. In Mother Madrigal's graceful scrawl, it read:
Marigold Kalele's booth... from intel it is next to the Janviers potion shoppe. Hand them this paper and inquire about in regeneratione spells.
Rebirth. To bring back her dead daughters. That is what Madrigal was always after. It is what she would never reach.
Marigold Kalele's booth was an extravagant thing, marked with runes and phrases in Latin. Endless bookcases of spellbooks lined the walls. Alison recognized the Kalele name... the legendary line of witches. Bloodthirsty, she recalled. To her surprise, she saw Narcissa Janvier, the odd blue skinned fairy with large Morpho butterfly wings. Narcissa's blue eyes met Alison's.
"Is... Marigold Kalele here?" she asked, refusing to show her fear.
"What do you want with her?" Narcissa asked, her sharp teeth flashing.
"I just have an inquiry." Alison recited the manipulation spell in her mind:audite sermones meos. Listen, obey me. "And you are going to let me ask it."
Narcissa's eyes clouded over. "Follow me." she said, in a trance. Alison followed her into the booth, deep within the tomes. "Marigold! Love, come here, there is someone here for you."
Marigold Kalele sat at a wooden desk, laden with papers and ink and charms. She had dark, ebony skin, and spun golden hair. "A blood magic user." Marigold said, looking Alison over. "A suggenne. Madrigal's daughter. A princess in your own right, eh?"
"I suppose so. Anyway, I am here on an inquiry from Madrigal herself." She handed Marigold the slip of paper.
"And why would I answer that?" Marigold asked, looking her straight in the eyes.
"Because I will kill you were you stand if you do not." She drew out the revolver. "I do not even need this to kill you. I am the heir to the du Bissay clan. The most powerful suggenne since the Sky Mother."
Marigold laughed. "Do not try to manipulate me. I have spells against that. And why would Madrigal think I know anything about raising the dead?"
"Because you are a Kalele, no? The most powerful witch this side of the Atlantic?"
"Such flattery, little blade. I will help. I think I will quite enjoy whatever chaos commences from this." Marigold answered. She got up and started to look through the spellbooks.
"Mari, think about this." Narcissa called after Marigold, suddenly out of Alison's trance. "Why help suggennes? Everyone in this city hates Madrigal. They will hate you as well, my dear."
"No, they will not." Alison spoke up.
"And why is that?" asked Narcissa.
"Because you will tell no one, and Madrigal will tell no one."
"Sound plan." said Marigold, handing Alison a red bound tome. "I owed the Sky Mother something, once. This is my retribution."
"Thank you, Miss Kalele." Alison started to walk away.
"Be careful with that, du Bissay." Marigold called after her.
The book was probably cursed, Alison thought. Though, once she gave it to Madrigal, it was no longer her problem. She tucked the book into the layers of her petticoat.
She entered the main corridor of the basement. She looked around, but could not see Matthew anywhere she looked.
Alison left basement market behind, and exited into the dirty streets of the Five Points neighborhood.
She walked through the wastes, careful to watch her step. Alison had approximately three hours to get to her home in the Upper East side and then into Brooklyn for the party at Emery's. It would be a squeeze to make it there by ten.
Alison sighed and hailed a carriage. "Where to, deary?" The chauffeur asked, cigar hanging out of his chapped lips.
"Upper East Side." she replied, settling the tresses of her dress around her.
"Where specifically?" The man, Wally, it said on his vest asked.
She looked out the window. "I will tell you when we get there."
Alison revised her statement. "Its best if you do not know."
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