Page 29 of Starlit Bargains

In the center sat a figure at a small table. Like the voice, the merchant defied easy categorization—their features fluid, their age indeterminate, their clothing an assemblage of styles from many different eras. The only constant was their eyes: completely black, like polished obsidian, reflecting nothing.

"Ah," the merchant said, those unsettling eyes fixed on Kai. "A witch from Thornhaven. How... unexpected."

Kai managed not to show his surprise at being so easily identified. "I'm looking for information," he said, keeping his voice level.

"Everyone who comes here is looking for information," the merchant replied, gesturing to the chair opposite them. "The question is, what are you willing to pay for it?"

Kai sat, conscious of Briar hiding beneath his collar, uncharacteristically silent. "That depends on what you know."

The merchant's lips curved in what might have been a smile. "I know many things. I know that your magic is... unusual. I know that you've encountered something beyond your understanding. I know that you've touched power that frightens even you, though you'd never admit it." They leaned forward slightly. "I know you seek answers about the fallen guardian."

A chill ran down Kai's spine. "How?—"

"This is a place of knowledge," the merchant interrupted. "Your questions are written on your aura as clearly as if you'd shouted them." They sat back, that not-quite-smile still playing about their lips. "The question remains: what will you offer in exchange for what you seek?"

Kai hesitated. He had brought money, of course, but somehow he doubted this merchant traded in ordinary currency. "What do you typically accept as payment?"

"It varies," the merchant said, examining their fluid-like hands as if bored. "Memories. Promises. Talents. Small pieces of the self that most never miss until it's too late."

"That sounds ominous," Kai observed.

"Knowledge often comes at a cost," the merchant replied. "The greater the knowledge, the greater the price. Information about a cosmic guardian who fell from the heavens? About prophecies that span millennia? About your own role in the awakening of powers long dormant?" They shrugged elegantly. "Such insights do not come cheaply."

Kai's curiosity battled with his sense of self-preservation. The merchant clearly knew something—perhaps everything—he wanted to learn. But the casual mention of "pieces of the self" as payment set off warning bells even he couldn't ignore.

"What exactly would you want from me?" he asked cautiously.

The merchant considered him, those black eyes unreadable. "A sliver of your magic," they said finally. "And a few drops of your blood."

"That's..." Kai frowned. "What for? What would you do with them?"

"Does it matter?" The merchant's expression remained neutral. "Everything has a purpose in the Night Market. Everything has value to someone. Your magic is... exceptional. Unique. It resonates with cosmic energies in ways I have rarely encountered." Their not-quite-smile returned. "As for your blood—blood carries memory, carries essence. It speaks truths its bearer may not even know."

Kai shifted uncomfortably. "That's not really an answer."

"It's the only one you'll receive," the merchant replied, unperturbed. "The price is set. A sliver of your magic, freely given. A few drops of your blood, willingly shed. In exchange, I will tell you what you wish to know about the fallen guardian, about the prophecy that binds you both."

"Kai," Briar whispered from her hiding place, her voice barely audible. "This is a bad idea."

She was right. He knew she was right. Giving pieces of himself—especially his magic and his blood—to a mysterious merchant in a hidden magical market was exactly the kind of recklessness that Silas was always warning him against.

But when had that ever stopped him?

"How do I give you a sliver of my magic?" he asked, ignoring Briar's tiny groan of dismay.

The merchant produced a small crystal vial from within their robes. "Focus your power into this. Not a spell, not an intent—just raw magic, the purest expression of your essence."

Kai took the vial hesitantly. It felt cold against his skin, but not unpleasantly so—more like the chill of a mountain stream than the bite of ice. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the well of power that lived within him. Usually, he shaped this energy into spells, into specific intentions and outcomes. To access it in its raw form felt strangely intimate, like revealing a part of himself he normally kept clothed.

Golden light gathered around his fingers, swirling and pulsing with his heartbeat. He directed this energy into the crystal vial, feeling a strange pulling sensation as the container drew in more than he was consciously offering—not painfully, but with a definite hunger that left him momentarily light-headed.

When he opened his eyes, the vial glowed with captured sunlight—his magic, distilled into physical form. The merchant took it from him with surprising gentleness, holding it up to examine the swirling golden energy within.

"Beautiful," they murmured, before tucking the vial away. "And now, the blood."

They produced a small silver knife, its blade so thin it was nearly transparent. Kai hesitated only briefly before extending his hand. The merchant drew the blade across his palm with surgical precision—sharp enough that he felt the sting only after seeing the thin line of red well up.

The merchant held another vial beneath his palm, collecting the droplets with methodical care. When they had gathered perhaps a thimbleful, they stoppered the vial and tucked it away alongside the one containing his magic.

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