Page 24 of Fated Angel

There is no world without the obsidian.

The sharp crack of the walking stick hitting the wooden platform snaps through the bazaar. “Sold,” the auctioneer sneers.

The next artifact is brought as the shifter is taken away. A glistening, radiant amulet is sold to the highest bidder. A gargoyle is next. A black mask with the ability to change a person’s appearance to whatever they want follows.

With each time, the tension in the air grows. Tightens. Sticks in Gabby’s throat.

And then only one item is left.

The auctioneer gestures to the cage, which isn’t carried onto the platform like the others. “Beings of the three realms, our final item. Asher, so powerful and dangerous he must be kept in a cage powered by the obsidian.” It’s cowled, shadowed face scans the crowd. “Are you willing for such a threat to fall in the hands of your enemy?”

Whispers and murmurs filter through the crowd. The chance to possess something so powerful, even as it’s unknown, is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Bidding is going to be fierce.

“Do I have an opening bid?” the auctioneer hisses, although it’s clearly a rhetorical question.

A number is thrown out, already higher than Gabby expected, followed by a quick counter-bid. More bids are shouted. The air crackles with greed and excitement.

“Wait,” Colt murmurs. “We must be patient.”

“I double it!” someone calls out.

Gabby glances to her left, recognizing the man in the purple turban who bumped into her. He looks rich. And determined.

He’ll still lose.

Several bidders slump, clearly out of the game.

A woman whose hair is so long it brushes the cobblestone bids again. The man doesn’t glance at her.

“Double it.”

The woman curses and crosses her arms. She’s dropped out.

The auctioneer raises its wooden stick. “Final call…”

Gabby steps forward. “I raise you!”

Purple Turban’s shoulders stiffens. “Double it,” he states flatly.

“I raise you,” Gabby states just as flatly, doing the math in her head. Their blank check isn’t limitless. They’re getting close to what Kenna said the Order can fund.

If Purple Turban doubles it…

Purple Turban turns slowly, his blue eyes snapping to Gabby. He glares at her, then does something far more disturbing. His eyes widen.

As if he recognizes her, despite the magical and physical disguises.

Colt subtly moves forward, muttering an incantation under his breath. Purple Turban opens his mouth, either to double the bid, or to expose them, only for it to snap shut. His eyes widen even further, the muscles of his face twitching, but his mouth doesn’t open.

Colt’s magically sealed it shut.

“Last call,” the auctioneer calls in their raspy voice.

Gabby holds her breath. It feels like the whole bazaar is held in suspended animation.

No one bids.

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