The Night Market by Zachary Rawlins Page A

inside the privacy of
her head. To her surprise, Jenny waited in silence, coaxing the fire back to
life.
    “My brother is gone. They took him, and they took his
name and his face. And no one knows but me.”
    Jenny paused in the act of pulling a blanket around
herself.
    “Wait. I don’t get it. Who took your brother?”
    “Them,” Yael said, annoyed at the interruption. “The
Visitors. You know.”
    “No. I have no idea. Who are they?”
    Yael smiled bitterly.
    “That is a different question, Miss Frost.”
    Jenny swore. Yael let it pass.
    “Fine. Go ahead and finish.”
    “My brother was a very experienced dreamer. Much of
his time was spent sleeping, mapping the country of dreams and beyond. When he was
awake I would listen to his stories and help him make sense of the things that
he saw. Sometimes he would have objects clutched in his hands or lying next to
him on the pillow when he woke, artifacts that he brought back from his dreams.
One afternoon the whole house heard him cry out in excitement when he woke. He
came straight to me to show me what he had brought back.”
    “The Silver Key,” Jenny said, endearingly enthusiastic.
“Right? It was the Key, wasn’t it?”
    “Yes. That was the last day. He said that he had made
a bad deal, a bargain with the wrong party. I tried to calm him, to tell him
that he was safe in our home, but he did not believe me...”
    Yael remembered the clammy skin of his forehead
resting on her shoulder, his body trembling with anxiety. Her arms barely reached
around him, and she held on tight as if she were afraid that he would drift
away. Maybe she was.
    “The next morning his bed was empty when I woke. That
afternoon, no one seemed to understand why I was worried. By the evening his
room had become a guest room, and my stepmother was annoyed because I kept
crying. The next morning I couldn’t remember his name, his face... all sorts of
things. Then I noticed something hanging from my mirror – the Silver Key dangling
from a piece of a string. He left it to me before they took him. If he hadn’t,
I’m not sure that I would be able to remember him at all.”
    “Wow.”
    “I know.”
    “I still don’t get how that led to you running
away...”
    “That’s just it. I’m not running from anything, Miss
Frost. I want what was taken from me. I’ve mean to take it back.”
    Yael found an unflattering satisfaction in Jenny’s
surprise.
    “I misjudged you, Princess. You’re crazier than I
thought.”
    Yael caught herself staring longingly at the empty
candy bar wrapper and forced herself to look away.
    “I am not at all crazy. Miss Frost, if your brother
went missing, wouldn’t you at least want to be able to remember him?”
    “Is that your question?”
    Yael shook her head hurriedly.
    “Forget I asked. How did you find yourself in the
Waste, Miss Frost?”
    There was something subtly off about the proportions
in Jenny’s face, Yael decided, an unusual contour that was obvious only in the
firelight.
    “Long story. Short version – I had to get a job. I
suppose everyone does eventually, though I never figured on it. I’m here with
Fenrir on business.”
    “That’s it?”
    “That’s it. I was trying to spare you a story that
people seem to find upsetting. It’s not like I mind telling the story if you
wanna hear the details...”
    “Let’s not,” Yael snapped. “Ask your question.”
    Jenny laughed, wedging herself between Yael and the
fire.
    “How did you expect this  to work? Assuming you didn’t
bump into me, how were you going to survive the trip?”
    “I have confidence in myself, Miss Frost,” Yael said,
wishing her voice sounded surer.
    “Well, that ought to do it.”
    “What are you trying to say?”
    “In my experience, people who say they are confident –
as a rule, they aren’t.”
    Yael tried to ensure that she looked as indignant as
she felt.
    “I invite you to consider me as an exception, Miss
Frost.”
    Jenny laughed again and Yael