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“I am looking for my sister,” he said, putting all the conviction he could into his voice, “and the answer to this riddle. I’m thinking finding one is the only way of finding the other.”

Sebastian stared at him. “What’s the riddle?”

“Heart’s hope lies within belladonna.”

He didn’t expect a reaction, so he wasn’t sure what it meant when Sebastian rocked back on his heels as if he’d just felt a fist jab him in the ribs.

“Who are you?” Sebastian asked.

“Michael. The Magician.”

No response to the word. Might have given him some leverage if they’d been a bit fearful of him. Then again, he wasn’t sure being an ill-wisher measured up to whatever “deadly magics” Sebastian wielded.

“I’m Sebastian Justicemaker,” Sebastian said. “This is my wife, Lynnea,” He tipped his head to indicate the blond-haired man. “That’s Teaser.”

Michael nodded to Lynnea, then to the blond-haired man, who just gave him a measuring look before returning to his table.

Sebastian lightly touched Lynnea’s shoulder. “Why don’t you clear that far table and ask Philo to bring some food.”

“Best make it downwind,” Michael muttered, pinching his shirt. Since everything he owned had gone into the bog, everything smelled like the bog. “I’d be grateful for some food and something warm to drink. And some water.”

The customers at the chosen table were shifted to another, and Michael noticed no one grumbled about the change in seating. At least, not out loud. He washed his hands in the bowl of warm water that was offered, glad to have that much clean. The beverage Lynnea called koffee was hot and strong, which made him realize how cold and tired he was.

“I suppose you want the whole story,” Michael said after Lynnea delivered the food—thick stew, slices of fresh bread generously buttered, a white cheese, and some round black objects in their own small bowl.

“Be careful biting into the olives,” Sebastian said, pointing at the small bowl. “They have pits. Eat while it’s hot. Then I’ll listen.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He dug into the meal, but he studied the street and the people while he ate. Strange place. There was a mean edge that reminded him of the streets around the docks in Kendall, and certainly enough taverns…

A beautiful woman strolled toward the table, gave him an assessing look, then smiled in blatant invitation. Michael felt the heat of a blush as he looked down at his meal and pretended not to see the invitation.

…and there were brazen streetwalkers.

“What do you think of the carnal carnival?” Sebastian asked, sounding amused.

That was the perfect way to describe the Den of Iniquity, Michael thought. “It’s interesting.”

“You’ve never seen a succubus before?”

“A what?”

“The female who made you blush.” There was something about Sebastian’s smile that was sharp and just a little mean.

“Is that what you call streetwalkers here?” Michael asked, looking up to meet Sebastian’s eyes.

“No, that’s what we call female sex demons.”

Michael’s jaw dropped. He’d heard of such females from a few sailors who had docked at Kendall, but he’d figured the men were just telling tales.

Sebastian’s smile got a little sharper. “A male sex demon is called an incubus.” He raised his koffee cup in a mocking salute.

“Lady’s mercy,” Michael whispered.

“More koffee?” Lynnea asked, coming up to the table. She looked at Michael and frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“He’s just wondering why a sensible woman would want an incubus for a husband,” Sebastian said.

“That’s because he’s not female,” Lynnea replied as she refilled their cups. “If he was, he’d know why a sensible woman would want you for a husband.”

Michael took his time stirring a lump of sugar into the koffee, trying to decide if prudence or curiosity would win the battle of whether or not he kept his questions to himself.

Prudence had no chance of winning.

“Those men,” he said. “They’re going into a brothel?”

Sebastian nodded.

“Do they know the woman…the female…is a…”

“That’s why they come to the Den.”

Teaser set a bottle of whiskey and two glasses on the table. “Philo figured it was time for this.”

“Philo was right,” Sebastian said, his eyes never leaving Michael’s face. “Teaser is an incubus. As far as the women who cross over to visit are concerned, he’s one of the Den’s assets.”

Michael glanced up at Teaser. “Are you a Justice Maker, too?”

Teaser laughed. “Having one wizard in the Den who can call the lightning and sizzle people is enough. I’ll stick to making women very happy and leave the other part to Sebastian.”

Well, Michael thought when Teaser strolled away, that told him what sort of “deadly magics” Sebastian could wield.

Sebastian poured whiskey into both glasses, then set the bottle aside and rested his forearms on the table. “Now. Tell me your story, Michael the Magician, and make it a good one. Your life depends on it.”

I’ve no doubt of that.

Michael took a sip of whiskey to give himself time to think. Where to begin? And how much would Sebastian believe when none of the things that had happened recently seemed believable?

So he started with meeting Captain Kenneday and hearing about the lost fishing boats. He told Sebastian about the letter that had come from his aunt that contained the riddle she had heard in a dream. The hand holding the whiskey glass trembled as he talked about that haunted piece of the sea, and his voice broke when he got to the part about his aunt being injured in a fire and his learning that Caitlin Marie had disappeared. But his voice held steel and fear when he recounted seeing the monster, and of his battle of wills with that evil in order to choose the darkness that would claim him.

Throughout the telling, Sebastian never moved. Just watched him with unnerving intensity.

“So that’s how I ended up with the Merry Makers, and they decided to let you decide,” Michael said. He tossed back the glass of whiskey and poured himself another to fight the chill that was back in his bones.

Sebastian picked up his glass of whiskey and sat back. “You don’t know the incubi and succubi, but you’re familiar with the Merry Makers?”

Michael nodded. “Ran into them once before, in the early days of my wandering. They liked my music, so they let me go.”

“Are there any other demons in your landscapes?”

“In my country, you mean?”

Sebastian tipped his head, as if considering. “A person’s landscapes can hold many places, so I have a feeling we aren’t talking about the same things. But we’ll go with your way of looking at the world—for now.”

Michael frowned. “What country is this?”

“This landscape is the Den of Iniquity.”

He huffed in frustration. “But it has to connect to something!”

“It has borders with the Merry Makers’ landscape, as well as the waterhorses’ and the bull demons’. There are stationary bridges to several daylight landscapes.”

Michael braced his head in his hands. “One of us has a brain fever.”

“No, one of us has spent his life in the part of Ephemera that was shattered the most during the battle between the Guides of the Heart and the Eater of the World. And the other has probably moved through landscapes all his life without realizing it.”

He stared at the table. At some point the dishes had been cleared away, but he couldn’t remember who had done it or when. His mind went blank, and in that moment of restful emptiness the things he’d seen recently, the things he’d said, and the things he’d been told drifted through that emptiness and came together to form a new pattern.

“This vanishing from one place and appearing in another,” he said slowly, as if feeling his way. “You don’t see anything strange about it, do you?”