Chapter 33.5 – Black Market

Limping back, Kairon stared at his frozen foot. Then at the sigil.

The feeling that he was missing something grew stronger. It poked at his mind, like a hot brand singing into his brain.

But what?

He retraced his thought process.

The water? There was something there… But it ran deeper than that.

Before, what was he considering? The farm. Closer. The image of the red soil, warm and hot in his claws, pressed in his mind. That felt right, but not quite it.

Which leaves… Corruption. The moment he thought of that, the feeling became a glaring light, shining and begging to be seen.

Kairon stopped walking, sat, and peered at the ground beneath him. The hellscape. Digging one claw down, he pushed aside dirt and sand until faint hints of decayed debris were visible.

Originally, I assumed corruption acted as a wave. One line, one change. As the domain grew, there was top ground. And what was it.

Now, I’m finding there’s layers. A second point of change. One that is almost entirely disconnected from the first.

That was interesting. Yet, there was a connection he was missing. Another problem…

He looked further inwards, studying the dark sigil in his mind bobbing back and forth. The fluid, flowing lines. Like the channels of water from earlier. Every symbol connected to the next.

Then, he thought back to every other symbol he’d seen on his city’s summoned structures. And the script written into the ritual circles, save that dark star. Each was… violent. Harsh. Each was… Different.

It hit him. With a snap, the piece slotted into place.

Oh my. Oh my, oh my. Could this. Could this be why…

Thoughts whirling, he stood. Slamming his stick down, he set off for the tower. He needed to see Sythara. It was time they had a chat.

***

Shiny stood, claws crossed over his chest.

Bean, Sing, and Clod were in the hole.

“Master say we need fill. Sythara fell.”

“She stupid,” muttered Bean. “Holes good!”

The little imp narrowed his eyes. He liked Bean. Bean was a good worker. But, even good workers needed proper supervision.

He was about to tell him just that, when the purple lights stopped him short.

“Wait!”

“Boss?” asked Sing.

“Huh?” chittered Clod, arms frozen in place, poised to start brushing dirt in the hole.

With a plop, Shiny dropped down, falling into it. He ran his claws over the purple lights. Some were veins, spiderwebbing through the darkening soil and compacted layers near the hole’s bottom. But, between a tangle of old roots at the bottom, a mossy, purple light shined.

Bending down, he sniffed it.

“Smell good.”

Pursing his lips, he scraped some in one claw and held it up. “Sing, eat this.”

“FOOD!”

Sing snagged the glowing bulbs and stuffed them in his mouth.

The other three imps watched, faces intent. They’d had nothing but dried jerky for weeks, with the occasional fresh meat. Something new was…

Sing’s eyes lit up. “TASTY!”

“Me try!”

Clod grabbed some, stuffing his mouth too. “OH!”

Over the next several minutes, the imps enjoyed a buffet. Glowing grub was dug, harvested, and eaten with little ceremony. As they finished their fill, Bean gave Shiny a guilty look. “Is this okay?”

Shiny thought. “Master say no waste. Waste bad. We use.”

Bean looked satisfied at that, wiping his purple lips clean.

“Wait.” A thought struck Shiny. The purple veins were from Master. As Master grew, the veins did too. Did the veins make the yummy snack somehow?

“There may be more. Bean! Dig that way!”

Minutes later, they found another root cavity, more purple glowing grubs in it.

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This time, Shiny held up his claw. “No! We do not eat.”

Sing and Clod looked disappointed, but Bean obeyed. “Listen to boss!”

After a moment, both obliged. Shiny was respected, after all.

“Here what we do. Master say no waste. So we find more. Then, we…” Shiny’s brow furrowed.

“We trade,” he announced.

“With who?” asked Bean.

“Other imp. Brood. And…” This time, a devious, fang-filled smile covered his mouth. “The wrath.”

“They scary! Strong!” shrieked Clod.

“Yes. Yes! We can’t!” agreed Sing.

“Brood grows large. You see. For now, just brood. But later, the wrath too.”

Just like that, The Brood Market was established. Shiny the owner, Bean the digger, and Sing and Clod the muscle.

***

On one side of the camp, a gathering of wrath warriors were playing a game of stones. Shouts, jeers, and grunts filled their half of the building.

From the other side, a much quieter mob of brood imps gathered around Shiny’s bunk.

Scrub pouted. “Sing say two. Want!”

Shiny shook his head, Sing and Clod standing behind him. “You want? It three now.”

The little red imp looked longingly at the fur bundle, its purple glow just visible under Shiny’s bunk.

“But… Only have two…”