Lady Nightwing huffed irritably in response. “It is not much further, Sydney,” she assured me.
I managed to propel myself onward for several more minutes with those words repeating in my head.
Just as I was sure I couldn’t take another step, an abrupt brightness ripped across my eyes and a cacophony of voices assaulted my ears. I squeezed my eyelids shut against the resulting ache and lurched forward. Finally the ground leveled off and my fingertips moved past the edges of a doorway. I floundered into the shock of an open space, reverberating with sound.
Fumbling to a halt, I cracked one eyelid, willing my pupil to adjust faster to the light. Although it was painfully bright after the blackness of the stairwell, in reality the space was dim - lit only by the hungry licking flames of swaying iron chandeliers and scattered torches.
We had arrived in a marketplace of sorts, crushed with a bizarre assortment of creatures. The whole space must have been magically enlarged, because it sprawled out far beyond the size of the deck above. Merchants hawked their wares behind ramshackle stalls and tables. Most I recognized as goblins, bow-legged and standing about four feet tall with pale, beady eyes, flat noses and too-wide mouths.
A few wore their wiry reddish-blonde hair in long, straggly strands past their shoulders. Something about their features seemed softer than the others, and I guessed they were the females.
Imps scrambled or waddled past, their bodies low to the dusty wooden floor. They wove between the legs of the crowd, grunting and squealing when they were kicked or stepped on. Creatures like Hob were scattered throughout the throng, all appearing as the perverted embodiments of various trees or shrubs, as different from each other as the species they mimicked.
There were tall, thin creatures with long emaciated limbs, who bore an eerie resemblance to the popular images of aliens. Their large black eyes gleamed hard and shiny like onyx, but were disturbingly cold and lifeless. They were given a wide berth by the rest of the masses.
“Come, Sydney,” Lady Nightwing instructed as she continued forward through the crowd. Most acknowledged her, inclining their heads respectfully as she passed. But even among those who didn’t, not one dared touch her or bar her way.
As I moved along behind her I received reactions ranging from disinterest, to avid stares, to sneers of contempt. Hob followed in my wake like a sinister bodyguard, growling with menace if anyone ventured too close to me. I was grateful for his protection, though I doubted its sincerity. He was probably just hoping to reserve the pleasure of tormenting me for himself.
Sickly sweet aromas assailed me from vendor stalls offering unidentified meats with bone and gristle poking through charred flesh. Several hobgoblins gathered to the side of one such stall, tossing glistening, pinkish-white objects the size of gumballs into their mouths like candy. The orb-like morsels popped between their teeth with a squelchy sound.
I thought it best not to dwell on exactly what manner of meat was being sold.
We passed shrill-voiced goblin merchants, striving to outsell each other as they boasted the quality of their weighted dice. Others stridently touted the potency of various spells. There were tables lined with jars of herbs and powders, along-side others displaying colorful assortments of pipes with which to smoke them.
Daggers and deadly-looking blades of every description rested on stands or were laid out in haphazard rows. Some had hilts encrusted with jewels that winked fitfully in the unsteady torchlight; others sported grips wrapped in tanned hide; while still others looked to be carved from bone and inlaid with strange, twisting symbols.
I watched as a faerie-like creature, with skin glistening a venomous green and wings resembling bug-eaten leaves, alighted on one of the tables and began haggling for a tiny, saw-toothed knife. It came to an agreement with the merchant, and was exchanging a small drawstring pouch for the blade, when shouts rang out somewhere ahead of us.
The crowd exploded like a hive of angry bees.
Idle browsers suddenly surged forward toward a growing knot of spectators that were gathering around the unseen commotion. A few smaller, more timid-looking creatures ran in the opposite direction. But most charged toward the disturbance, jostling anyone in their way and yelling violent encouragements.
The merchants stayed behind to guard their goods, but craned their necks and climbed on stools and tables to see above the mob. Through a break in the throng, I could see one of the tall alien creatures with the dead black eyes. A thick, pulsating aura bled from its skin, turning the air around it into a nauseating corona of shadows.
Lady Nightwing sighed. “It appears that Lathos is once again at the center of some disagreement. Come, Hob. Let us see what all the excitement is about. I require his overseeing services for my wager with Sydney.”
She continued forward, then slowed and looked back at me. “It would be best for you to remain here, Sydney. Nasty accidents have been known to befall humans in the midst of such mobs.”
Hob glowered at me as he moved to join Lady Nightwing. “If you are not here when I return you will regret it, human,” he growled under his breath.
I hung back and watched as the crowd parted to allow them through. I glimpsed a haggard and pitiful creature cringing at the feet of the menacing Lathos. It resembled a goblin in body and hair color, but its features were more elegant, its bone structure finer, and two velvet-tipped horns protruded from its hairline. Clad in only a loin-cloth, it writhed against the wooden floor as if in the throes of a nightmare, unmindful of the jagged splinters tearing at its skin.
The mob stilled as Lady Nightwing pushed her way through. Lathos, however, was unaffected. He continued to stare down at the creature with his intense, pitiless gaze. The shadowy nimbus surrounding him grew stronger, spreading from his body to caress the trembling wretch at his feet. It cried out and I cringed involuntarily. The sound was the embodiment of utter terror and pain.
Lady Nightwing allowed it to go on for a few moments more before interrupting in a bored tone. “Lathos, I require your services at the arena. Be done with this half-breed and join me.”
Lathos raised his head to fix his soulless eyes on Lady Nightwing. The shadowy aura surrounding him grew fainter and began to gather back toward his body. The creature at his feet wrapped its arms around itself and sobbed.
“This half-breed attempted to purchase a spell that I am interested in obtaining.” Lathos’ voice was soft and expressionless, and all the more unsettling for the fact that his small slit of a mouth didn’t appear to move when he spoke.
“Your pardon, Master Gleaner,” the half-goblin begged, its voice catching in misery. “I would most certainly have stood aside, but I did not see you at the table.”
Lathos tilted his head and considered the creature impassively. “That is because I had not yet reached the table.”
Malicious snickers sounded throughout the crowd.
“I shall have that spell,” Lathos stated.
Lady Nightwing shrugged. “So take the spell and throw the half-breed into a slave ring. We have more important business to attend to.”
The half-goblin whimpered and the mob jeered in excitement.
“The spell remains at the merchant’s table,” Lathos said without inflection as he turned to approach a nearby stall.
Lady Nightwing shook her head in exasperation and turned to Hob. “Take the half-breed to Ogre Malfecus’ slave ring, and then rejoin us,” she instructed, pointing to an area with a high chain-link fence around it.
Hob stomped forward and jerked the poor creature to