Post Chapter Four Belladonna (Patreon)

There was a corner in the back of an antique store that not many knew about.  To get there, a person had to wind through old relics from various different worlds, twisting and turning through tilted shelves brimming with dust covered forgotten memories.  Take a wrong turn, and they would never find the small black silk table.  Nor the opalescent stone that hovered in the middle of it.

Of course, someone could get here by mistake.  A few had over the years. Belladonna was almost certain the shop owner didn’t even know the table was hidden here and had been bewitched to quietly dispose of anyone that stumbled across the call center.  Only those who were supposed to see the shard were to know the map. And if the location was not memorized during the first visit here, then the likelihood of getting back out was second to none.

Belladonna made her way to the silk cloth draped across the small table.  The shard hovered a hand's width from the table's surface, a low hum echoing from it.  Reaching into her purse, she pulled three freshwater pearls from the depths, placing them artfully beneath the stone.  They shook, vibrating beneath a high-pitched ping before the pearls crumbled into a fine powder and coated the table in a shimmering light.

“I have a request,” she said, seating herself before the gem.  Pleasantries were not often needed here.  “I need to bring someone to meet with you. I think you will find them interesting.” She knew the Baron would find them interesting. Belladonna certainly did. There was something not quite right about them though. Almost like they existed in a reality that only loomed out of the corners of their eyes.

“The market is failing far quicker than we have given it credit for.  What were once whispers now resonate so deep within the lantern light that I fear there is not much of a future on this horizon.  But there may be a way to thwart this, if the Baron’s are willing to listen. I wish to send to you someone that may be up for the task at hand.”

The shimmering dust of the pearls began to evaporate, siphoning upwards into the opalescent gem itself. Belladonna knew he was listening. He just rarely responded.

“I know you stay out of the politics of the Night Market,” she said.  “But this one might be worth taking heed.  Despite knowing that your wife dearly loves the wares here, if this world goes, the domino effect it could have on the others worlds far supersedes the desire not to get involved.”

A sharp lash of electricity cut through the air. A shard of opalescent glass pinning itself near where Belladonna rested her hand. It was a warning.  Don’t tell him what he should and should not care about.

“Noted,” she said, unconcerned.  The role of the Baron of the Books was either a laughable one with a title such as his, or one that was feared due to his penchant of sending out warnings that were far over the top of what they should be. Belladonna suspected it was all for show and had yet to feel threatened. She knew, however, that that could change in the blink of an eye.

“I am willing to trade, of course,” she said, watching as the shard evaporated into smoke.  “The hunt that has been put upon Casimir Alskar.  I know where the knife they have prophesized to kill him with lies.  If you allow this meeting, I will place the location of it within the book at the fifth quarter.”

There was silence for a long moment, but Belladonna was a patient woman.  One that could sit as still as the night, if the occasion called for it.  When the opal turned bright, she knew she had been given consent.  A meeting was now in place.

The stack of parchment off to the side began scratching as an invisible quill began to write across the page.  Tomorrow.  Early eve. Before the lanterns turn dark.  Belladonna took the paper and folded it in two, sticking it within her purse.

“Thank you.”

When she turned, a man stood before her. Lavender hair falling across his eyes, a white coat with pearl studded cuff links donning each sleeve.  She bowed respectfully to him.

“Baron,” she said.

His eyes were the opaque slits of a snake, a mere reflection of the slow crawl of the monster weaving within the overflowing shelves.

“This person,” he said, “how far do you trust them?”

“Does it matter if I trust them or not when our world is in such peril?”

“No,” he agreed. “Though, I find myself curious.  Why trade such useful information for a simple meeting? You know with what you hold, you could have asked for anything.”

“True.”  The slow knife, the one fated to kill the only other love of the Baron’s life.  Its location had been sought after for years for lesser purposes.  “I am taking a gamble, I find.”

He tipped his head to the side, hands clasped behind his back as he observed her carefully. “That is not like you.”

“It is not.  Though, the time for caution may have passed.  Tell me, Baron. Do the others even care that the world is being torn?”

“I doubt the Baron’s care for much past their own self-serving goals.”

“I am growing concerned. And this individual appeared in our world just as the issue was coming to head. Most would see it as convenient. I see it as fortuitous.  What I do not see it as, however, is an opportunity to be wasted.  So, yes, I am trading information with a value far higher than what I seek. Though, I do think it will pay off in the end.”

“You have care for this one,” the man said, narrowing his gaze.  Belladonna was not deterred.

“I care for all my investments.”

His smile was cruel. Cutting. But he did not call her out on the stench of a lie.

“Good day, Ms. Malady.” With a small bow, he stepped aside, motioning his consent to let her pass.

“Baron.”  Walking past him, her heels echoed across the shop. She did not remember to breathe again until she was outside the antique shop, beneath the iron streetlamps and surrounded by the damp cobblestone streets.

Tomorrow.

Hopefully tomorrow they could begin the slow journey towards their end.