The Dark Bazaar_Division 8 Page 3

  I tossed my blankets aside. “Curse you and thank you,” I told Meryem with a grin.

  “You’re welcome,” she said with a laugh. “And don’t curse me. You’re a witch, remember.”

  I laughed. Of all my sisters, I was closest to Meryem and Zeynep. I loved each of my sisters, but Meryem, Zeynep, and I understood each other the best. My sisters and I were the most senior witches. We were Priestesses of Umay. Each of us had different skills. Meryem’s skill was telekinesis, shifting objects with her mind. Zeynep was gifted at pyromancy. My skills were in illusion, and I had highly-attuned senses. I was also pretty good at casting a crutch—as were we all. After years of training, all our magic was strong. But it hadn’t started out that way. All young witches begin as acolytes. Anyone in Nazar born with the magical gift comes to the order for training. The young girls come to the Order of Umay, the young boys to the Order of Tengri. It takes years to reach the kind of magic in which my sisters and I were adept. Under Emine’s tutelage, beginning when we were girls, we all learned to develop our skills.

  I rushed to the hamam, a bath with marble walls and floors, large enough for a dozen women to bathe. Esma and Ayla were already there. Wrapped in towels, the two slender women were pouring water from wooden paddles over their legs as they sat at the side of a deep marble pool. The room was filled with steam, and the soft scent of lavender soap sweetened the air. I wondered, not for the first time, what the sultana would think of the witches who now enjoyed her luxuries.

  “Good morning,” I said, rushing to get a basin of water.

  “Better hurry,” Esma teased good-naturedly.

  I poured some wash water from a pitcher into a wash basin then stripped off my chemise and began washing my body quickly. Someone had perfumed the wash water with lavender oil. The rich scent perfumed the air. I dashed some cold water on my face and ran a brush through my hair. When I was done, I rinsed my feet and hands with lemon-scented astringent, Turkish cologne, then rushed back to the bedchamber.

  “Run, Pelin,” Ayla called giggling.

  I waved to them then headed out of the hamam.

  Behind me, Esma and Ayla laughed.

  The sun had begun to rise. Shades of pale pink and orange illuminated the skyline. Meryem was nowhere to be seen, but she had laid out my robes on my bed. Bless her. I slipped on my clothes, rushed to the door, and put on my still-muddy boots. Gathering my skirts, I rushed down the arbor-covered walkway. There was no time to breathe in the jasmine that grew there or admire the blue and gold colored tiles or fine scrolling architecture. I was very late. I rushed down the path, startling the peacock who squawked loudly at me. I finally made my way to the second courtyard. My sisters and I, the Priestess of Umay, lived and worked in the buildings surrounding the third courtyard. Baran and his followers lived in the second courtyard. In the large first courtyard lived the magical families, the witches and warlocks under our care. Knowing I was now in sight of Baran and his followers, I slowed my speed to a casual stroll. I’d be damned if I let them see me flustered.

  Lacing my fingers together behind my back, I walked slowly toward the tower. At the door, two guards, warlocks of Baran’s order, bowed and opened the door. Taking a deep breath, I looked up the spiral staircase. I sighed. Once more, I belonged to the dome.

  I climbed up the steps. As I neared the top, I felt the magical energy that powered the barrier even more strongly. But it was not Emine working the magic. I cast my senses out. Zeynep was powering the shield. Her energy less steady than Emine’s, but more alive. I could feel the magic pulsing as she sought to cast the shield smooth. It was no easy task.

  I pushed open the door to the tower room. Baran and four other warlocks, the leaders of the community, were seated at a table. Their heads bowed toward one another, they were in serious discussion. Emine lay sleeping on a chaise nearby. Her face looked so pale. Her long white hair lay haphazardly all around her. She was thinner than she’d looked the last time I’d attended her. A young witch, one of the young acolytes of Umay, sat by Emine’s side. I didn’t recognize the girl. She must have been new to training. She was no more than twelve or so. She sat staring wide-eyed at Zeynep.

  Zeynep stood on the platform under an opening in the roof. In a trance, she spun in circles, her hands extending skyward. Her feet, covered in soft silk slippers, moved in perfect step. But what had gotten the attention of the young witch—and me—was Zeynep’s hair. Her long red locks twirled out around her. And as she spun, crackling light, almost like sparks, leapt from her fiery tresses.

  I crossed the room and joined the acolyte. The warlocks had either not noticed me or they had not thought it important enough to acknowledge my presence. I rolled my eyes. Warlocks. I understood very well what Aydin had meant about Baran. He and the other of his order lived in their own world.

  “Her hair…” I said. I had never seen Zeynep’s hair come alive like that. She was gifted with fire, that I already knew, but I had never seen anything like this.

  “It started last night,” the girl explained.

  “Last night?”

  The girl nodded. “Emine passed out late in the night. Zeynep stepped in before the dome faltered. She’s been holding the shield for the last four hours. About two hours ago, her hair started to do that,” she said then leaned closer to me. “They’ve been talking about you,” she whispered.

  I set my hand on her shoulder, squeezing it in thanks for the warning, then turned and knelt beside Emine.

  “She’s sleeping now,” the girl said. “She was only unconscious for a few minutes.”

  “Do you regularly attend her? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

  “I’ve been with her for the last few days. I’m Mira,” the girl said with a soft smile. “My family lives in the first courtyard. I’ve just joined the acolytes.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mira. I’m Pelin.”

  Mira giggled. “Everyone knows who you are, Pelin.”

  “Indeed?”

  She grinned.

  I bent and set a soft kiss on Emine’s forehead.

  “Pelin?” Baran called.

  I sighed then rolled my eyes which only Mira could see.

  She giggled.

  Pulling on a placid smile, I turned and headed toward the table. With a slight twitch of my fingers, I cast an air of calm around myself. It was subtle magic. Baran and the others would not be able to see through the mask. Otherwise, I feared my complete contempt for them would be too readily apparent.

  I crossed the room to join the four warlocks gather there. None of them had been alive when the Rift had happened. They had come into power afterward. Full of self-importance, they regarded me as skeptically as I regarded them.

  “Please, sit,” Baran said, motioning to a chair.

  For a moment, I considered resisting just for the sake of it. But I let the urge pass. It was better if they thought I was their lackey. It would make it easier to see their true motives.

  “Has Merel come to see Emine?” I asked. Merel, another of my sisters, was gifted with the healing arts.

  “One of my order attended her. Her mind was soothed. She is unharmed,” Baran replied.

  I eyed him skeptically.

  “Is this the first time she’s collapsed?” I asked.

  “We fear the strain is too much for her,” Endur, the eldest of them, said. His voice was thin and rasping. He too was reaching his late years.

  I regarded them carefully. Most of them had been born of mothers alive during the Rift or first-generation thereafter. Of those gathered, only Baran seemed to have been affected by the Rift curse. His dark hair, streaked with a smattering of white at the temples, was a lie. The Rift curse had granted him extended life. He must have been at least seventy or eighty, but he appeared to be only in his late forties. The Rift curse, which had given the vampire I’d encountered the night before a hint of sight, had touched both vampires and witches. Some witches avoided the light. Some vampires needed human food in addit
ion to blood to survive. The curse had crossed our magic, creating odd hybrids. As for myself, I was the only witch born since the Rift from a witch and warlock pairing. Most witches and warlocks were born of at least one human parent.

  “We have come to the decision that you should attend Emine at all times. You must begin to take on more responsibility for the upkeep of the dome. We believe if you gradually extend your exertions, as Zeynep is attempting now, that when Emine finally falls, you will be able to endure the strain,” Baran said.

  Umay protect me from their machinations.

  “Very well. But not at the exclusion of the work of my sisters. The rotations with the others must continue. As you can see from Zeynep’s performance, we are all capable of handling the dome. The others will also need to continue their practice.”

  The warlocks were silent.

  Baran narrowed his eyes as he considered me.

  Had they expected me to say “yes, sir?” They were forgetting themselves. Emine was still the leader of our order. She was still the most powerful magic user in our district.

  Baran opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him short.

  “Good. With that settled, I would like to discuss another matter.”

  The four men looked from one to the other.

  “Pelin, I am not sure you underst—” Cain, a large warlock with a heavy moustache, began to protest when his words were cut short as well, but not by me.

  “She understands perfectly well,” a voice called from behind us.

  We all turned to find Emine rising. Mira was helping her stand. She adjusted her robes, patted the girl on her hand, and then crossed the room to join us. Her white hair flowed down her back, but she was just a slip of a thing. Despite her frail appearance, her voice sounded strong and resolute. It was very clear that her word was law.

  Emine pulled out a chair beside me and sat. She sighed in exasperation. “Pelin understands very well that you wish to chain her in this tower. It’s not time to decide what to do when I’m dead. I’m not dead yet, as you see,” she said then motioned to Mira. “Bring me a glass of rakı,” she told the girl, referring to a strong alcoholic drink.

  “Emine!” Cain protested. “It’s barely past dawn.”

  Emine laughed. “I was a grown witch when you were in nappies, Cain. You spin for ten hours. Then you can say what you will.”

  I smirked.

  “Now, what were you going to tell these illustrious gentlemen?” Emine asked, turning to me.

  “I am concerned about Erlik’s hold on his people. For the last month, there have been reports of Rift-cursed vampires roaming the streets just before dusk. They are snatching humans up before curfew. If they begin breaking the rules, the fragile accord with Mehmet the Wise will fall apart.”

  “Reports? And where have you learned of such things?” Baran asked. His forehead furrowed deeply, and anger flashed across his face.

  “From the humans.”

  Baran frowned. “You should not listen to the idle gossip of the humans who come to the palace in search of aid. They all claim crisis.”

  “Indeed, they are not to be trusted,” Taavi, the fourth warlock, a slight man with oval glasses, said. “The humans may seek to cause strife between witches and vampires for their own ends. Don’t be influenced by rumor. Attend to your order. That is all that is required of you.”

  “What made you believe the reports you heard, Pelin?” Endur asked, showing more patience and interest than the others.

  Emine raised an eyebrow at me. There was a knowing expression on her face. Had my thoughts already betrayed me? Did she already know the truth? I knew she was powerful, but how powerful? Taking a deep breath, I steadied my nerve. I steeled myself to the scolding that would follow, but remembered the tiny baby’s face. For her, and others like her, our order must get involved.

  “It is not rumor,” I said, keeping my voice measured. “I’ve seen it myself.”

  “What? How?” Baran asked. His expression was stormy.

  “The first time I saw an abduction was about four weeks ago. The latest was yesterday at dusk.”

  “You…you were outside the walls? At dusk?” Cain asked, unable to hide his shock.

  “Yes,” I replied simply.

  Taavi removed his glasses, cleaning them furiously with the hem of his sleeve.

  Endur nodded thoughtfully while Cain and Baran shared a glance.

  Baran turned to me, his expression full of choked anger. “Pelin, you know you are forbidde—”

  “I asked her to go,” Emine interrupted. “I have seen visions of the movements of the Rift-cursed. I asked Pelin to watch,” she lied.

  I squeezed my fingers a bit harder, locking the enchantment of placid calm on my face more completely.

  “If you had such concerns, you should have informed me,” Baran told Emine.

  “I have. Just now. Tonight, when the moon is high, you and Pelin will go to the Dark Bazaar and address Erlik,” Emine told Baran.

  For a brief moment, I didn’t breathe. Me? Go to the Dark Bazaar?

  “Emine…I…I’m not sure,” Baran stammered.

  “You will go, and you will ensure Erlik remembers the edict he has sworn to obey. There will be no unrest in Nazar, or I will smash the bloody dome to bits and end us all.”

  At that moment, Mira appeared holding a tray. On it was a tall glass of rakı, the drink a cloudy white infusion of alcohol and water.

  Emine smiled. “Ah, here we are. Thank you,” she said, taking the glass. She sipped the drink then leaned back in her chair. She studied the men assembled there. “You are like a flock of vultures,” she told them. “Which one of you plans to take over when I die?”

  Taavi and Cain gasped.

  Baran frowned hard.

  Only Endur looked away, a twinge of shame on his face.

  “Emine, I must protest about this business with Erlik,” Baran said, ignoring her comment.

  “Protest all you want,” she told him. “Do you think I see nothing? I am the eye over Nazar. You’d be surprised what I can see. And I hear Tengri and Umay. You will work in accordance with our laws. And you will follow the will of the order as those who came before you—for centuries—have done. Do you understand?” she asked, scowling at Baran.

  “Yes,” he said darkly.

  “Any other protests?” she asked, turning to the warlocks.

  No one said anything.

  “Then be gone,” she said, waving them off with her thin hand. She took another drink as she watched the men depart. Baran headed out in an angry huff. Taavi and Cain bowed to her then left.

  When Endur moved to go, Emine lifted a finger. “Be watchful,” she told him.

  Without another word, he took Emine’s hand, kissing it out of respect, then turned and left.

  Emine turned to me. “You can let go now,” she said, motioning to my fingers.

  I dropped the masking charm. I grinned at Emine, my heart welling with admiration.

  She motioned to the drink. “Do you want one?”

  I shook my head. “I haven’t even had tea yet.”

  She chuckled softly then said, “Keep that steel in your back, girl. You will need it going forward. Umay will watch over you, guide you, but I worry about their…plans.”

  “Thank you for intervening,” I said.

  She frowned. “Endur is old, but he is an honest ally. Cain and Taavi are cattle. Baran…I fear you will have to deal with him.”

  I nodded then reached out and gently took her free hand. I searched her face, looking for an echo of myself or of my mother. “Are you well, grandmother? Is there anything I can do for you?”

  Emine was my last living relative. When she was gone, I would be truly alone. Sometimes I wondered if she hung on more for Nazar or for me.

  “I am old and tired, but I’m alive. Yet there is something you can do for me.”

  “Of course.”

  “Go now to Mehmet the Wise. Talk to him. Discover what he and the ot
her humans know about the vampires and their wanderings. There is more happening here than I can see. It must be dealt with before Umay calls me home. Go now.”

  I kissed Emine’s hand then rose. I looked back at Zeynep. Her hair was still a whirl of flames. It was a beautiful but frightening sight.

  “Zeynep,” Emine said, “is extremely powerful. As are your sisters. You are right to resist, Pelin. When I am gone, you must find a new way.”

  “Can you really see everything that happens when you cast the dome?”

  “Of course not,” she replied, but the arch of her lips told me she wasn’t quite telling the truth. “Now, off with you.”

  I nodded then turned and headed back toward the door. I was about to exit when Emine called to me.

  “Pelin?”

  I looked back at her.

  “Send my greetings to Aydin,” she said then lifted her drink to her lips, hiding her smile.

  I chuckled then turned and headed outside.

  I had supported the dome many times, but always struggled to simply reinforce the magic let alone try to do anything else with it. But Emine was right. Nazar, the evil eye, covered the entire district. If one learned to hold the dome with ease, what else could they see?

  Chapter 5

  I slung my pack over my shoulder and headed out back into the ruins of the city. Even during the daytime, old Istanbul was quiet. No one—neither human nor witch—wanted to go near the Dark Bazaar.

  To keep down lawlessness, the humans had devised a simple punishment. If you committed a crime in the human zone, you were sent to the Dark Bazaar. There, your very blood would be traded. Your life would be sold. It was a motivating punishment. So motivating that crime in the human zone was low. The vampires had needed more blood. In a compact with the witches and humans, a curfew had been instated. Humans could not leave their zone after sundown. If they did, they were fair game. It was an odious law.

  Slipping down the streets, I headed in the direction of the human zone. I looked at the sky overhead. Above the dome, a chaotic swirl of colors moved wildly. The sun, however, damped the aurora. I turned in the direction of the Blue Mosque. While earthquakes had destroyed much of city, those structures dating back to the medieval period, Hangi Sophia, the Blue Mosque, Topkapi Palace, Yedikule Fortress, and the Grand Bazaar, to name a few, remained. The office buildings and homes built in the modern era, however, had crumbled like sand castles.