CHAPTER NINE

Alec

My feet hit the ground, and the impact reverberates through me, shaking my bones and making my vision blur. Wendy's hand slips out of mine, and I desperately reach for her.

"Wendy!"

But she's not there.

Choking on my inhale, I whirl around. There are noises and sights everywhere.

Stalls and tents line what seems to be some kind of underground tunnel, candlelight glinting off the brass and silver merchandise. Fire sparks between magic wands and their brandished spells, the strange sounds of incantations and foreign tongues breaking the peaceful quiet. People from all worlds and all races bustle about. Fairies and elves, giants and halflings, everything from the most fantastical stories to the most absurd myths. Smoke from the marketplace rises into the air, choking the air.

The marketplace is larger than any I've ever seen. I went to a magical one once, when I was a kid, but that was nothing compared to this.

"Wendy?" I call.

She's still nowhere to be seen.

My heart picks up. No, no, no. I can't have lost her. She's everything I have left.

Pushing my way through the crowd, I desperately search for her. "Wendy!"

A troll, standing at least eight feet tall, looks down at me in annoyance. His face is a wreck of scales and scar tissue. His hulking body bares a tunic of leather, heavy chains, and black tattoos snaking in between them.

His eyes are droopy; his skin is a shade of green. A nose like a potato sits beneath his eyes, and his hair is tangled and hangs in greasy strands around his features. He smells of raw meat and iron, his breath an echoing growl of hunger.

"Watch where you're going, little man," he growls.

"Sorry." I rub the back of my head and look around. The troll is still standing there, staring at me with interest.

I try to ignore him. I've never seen a troll in person before, and while I would love to stare back at him, something tells me he wouldn't take well to that.

"What are you looking for, boy?" he asks.

"My friend," I say. "A girl. She has brown hair, and she was wearing—"

The troll's face changes. "Ah, I know the one. You'll find her at the end of the tunnel."

He points, and I follow his finger. Sure enough, there's Wendy, standing at the entrance of the tunnel, with a look of wonder on her face.

"Wendy!" I take off running and grab her arm. "What are you doing? We fell and then you were gone."

She turns to me, her eyes wide. "Alec, it's incredible. Look at all these people and these things. I've never seen anything like this before. Just look at that."

She points, and I follow her finger. My eyes land on a stall selling enchanted crystal balls, each one pulsing with a different color. The vendor, a tall and slender woman with pointed ears, is surrounded by a group of fairies who are haggling over the price of a purple orb.

"It's amazing," Wendy breathes. "I never thought anything like this could exist."

I can't help but smile at her excitement. It's refreshing, considering the nightmare we've been living in for the past few days.

"That's amazing," I say, impressed despite myself.

"I know, right?" Wendy says, her eyes sparkling. "And look at that one over there. I think it's a dragon egg."

I follow her gaze to a stall where a man with a bushy beard is haggling with a customer over a large, iridescent egg that's perched on a velvet cushion.

She's right. It's amazing here, but we can't lose sight of our mission. We have to find Igor, and we have to find a way back home.

"Wendy, we can't stay here," I remind her gently. "We have to keep moving."

Her face falls. "I know. I just ... I can't believe it's real. I always thought magic was just a story."

"Well, it's real now," I say. "And you figured out how to get us to the marketplace."

She grins. "It was the only thing that made sense. I'm just glad it worked."

I'm so relieved I found her, I throw my arms around her shoulders and hug her tight. "I thought I'd lost you for a minute."

She freezes for a second, then relaxes against my chest. Burying her face in my shoulder, she hugs me back.

"I didn't go anywhere," she whispers. "I'm right here."

I hold her even tighter, not wanting to let go. The warmth of her body against mine is enough to make me forget why I was so worried in the first place. For a moment, I just enjoy being close to her.

It feels so natural, so right, the two of us together. I never want to be separated from her again.

And that scares me.

I haven't been feeling like myself today. The sword seemed to suck some of my very life force out of me. I've been having cravings I don't want to have, and that scares me.

What would Wendy think if she saw my full vampire self? Not the one who climbs trees and can fly, but the one who does ... other things.

"You were really that worried?" she asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.

My throat burns, and I release her, not wanting to admit that I was even more worried than I'm showing.

She's so amazing, so marvelous. She's shown so much bravery over the last couple of days. On top of that, she's always known what the right thing to do is, even when my judgement is clouded. She knew we needed to take time to bury Professor Trowles. Knew that the man's riddle meant something.

Without her help, there's no way we would have gotten this far.

I feel so incompetent next to her, just a dude riding on her coattails.

She looks up at me with an expression I can't quite read. There's something in her eyes that I can't put my finger on, but whatever it is, it makes my heart beat faster.

"Yes," I finally say, my voice thick. "I was really worried."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." She steps out of the way as some women in cloaks stalk by.

It feels like my heart is in my throat, and I've forgotten how to talk. "It's okay. Did you ask if anyone knows Igor?"

"Not yet. I was kind of overwhelmed by everything." She approaches a stall with winter squashes. "Excuse me. Do you know of someone named Igor Rhodes?"

"The scholar?" a man in a cap asks.

"Maybe." I lean forward in excitement. "Do you know where we can find him?"

The man points to the far end of the tunnel. "Station Nine. 323. You can't miss it."

"Thank you. Thanks so much." Nearly skipping, Wendy and I hurry through the crowd. Even though it's late at night, the market is busy, and we have to turn every few feet to avoid bumping into anyone.

We reach the tunnel, a quieter area with candles flickering in front of wooden doorways. The air tastes of dust and dirt, a bit of summer rain. The murmur of low voices fills the hall, humans and magical creatures alike chatting on their doorsteps. It seems people live down here, too, nestled into the earth.

I shake my head in amazement. Even though I know a good deal about the magical world, it's like I'm always learning more. I just wish I didn't have to learn it all on my own.

Pulling my head from my thoughts, I focus on reading the address numbers we pass.

"Here it is." Wendy points. "323"

We stop in front of the closed wooden door. Is this really it? Have we finally found Igor?

Wendy and I share a look, and I can tell she's just as nervous as me. This whole journey has been full of twists and turns, and we never know what will happen next.

Taking a deep breath, I knock on the door.

"Who is it?" A gruff voice asks.

"It's two students from Hawthorn," Wendy says. She shrugs at me and whispers, "I dunno. Maybe that will get him to open up."

"What do you want?"

"We're looking for Igor Rhodes," I say. "We were told he might be here."

The door opens a crack, and an old man peers out. He looks us up and down. "Who sent you?"

"Professor Trowles," Wendy says.

He narrows his eyes at us, and a few moments pass, then the door slams in our faces.

"Hey!" Wendy hammers her fist on the chipped paint. "Didn't you hear us? We need your help!"

A man walking by eyes us suspiciously, so I wave and smile. "Hello."

Wendy is still banging on the door. "Igor! Igor, please! Our school was attacked, and you're the only person who can help us!"

The door opens all the way, revealing the old man. He doesn't look happy. "Come," he says gruffly, "but be quick about it."

We slip inside, and I'm relieved to be out of the public eye.

"Well," Igor says, "what do you two want from me?"

"We're here about the Golden Coin," Wendy says breathlessly.

He shakes his head and turns away. "I don't know anything about that."

I study the room, taking in the dirt walls, the candle holders, the books, and the tidy bed. It's small but cozy.

"We were told you do." Wendy's shoulders slump.

Igor keeps shuffling away, but I step in front of him. "Why don't you want to tell us?" I ask.

His wrinkled face contorts. "Because I don't know anything about it."

I stare him down, and his pulse picks up. If I listen closely enough, I can hear it. "You're lying. Your heart is racing."

His eyes widen.

"Please." Wendy's voice is softer now. "We have nowhere else to go. We need to find the Golden Coin before the Silver Hunters do."

His head hangs. "The Golden Coin ... bestows anyone who has it with great power. Some say that a person who wields it can go so far as having any wish fulfilled."

"But how does it do that?" I ask.

He shakes his head, his jowls wobbling. "It's much too complicated to explain, and I have a better question for you. Are you sure you want that kind of responsibility?"

Wendy and I lock eyes. "Of course," she says. "If we don't get it first, then the Silver Hunters will."

Igor slowly lowers himself onto a chair. He looks so defeated and worn out that I can't help but feel sorry for him. "Very well. I'll tell you what I know, but you must swear to keep it a secret." He looks at us expectantly.

"We promise," Wendy says.

"You said you're from Hawthorn?"

"Yes." I crouch in front of him. "And we know that the Golden Coin that was stashed in the well there is a fake. Our teacher—Professor Trowles—told us to come to you."

"Right before she died," Wendy softly adds.

His brow furrows. "I don't think I need to ask what happened to her."

"The Silver Hunters." Wendy's nostrils flare. "And they'll come for everyone soon if we don't stop them. They hate everything and everyone magical. They want to wipe us all out."

I can't help but note how Wendy said "us." Just yesterday, she was still having trouble believing she was a part of this world. Hearing the acceptance in her voice—the sense of comradery—makes my heart swell.

Igor passes a hand over his face. He looks so tired and worn down, and I don't think it's just because of his old age.

An idea tickles the back of my mind. Is he afraid to tell us about the coin?

"Why don't you want to talk?" I ask.

He startles, his eyes going wide. "What are you talking about, boy? I am talking."

I shake my head. "You didn't even want to let us in. Something has you spooked."

He gets up and begins rattling around, dropping dirty bowls in his sink and shuffling papers. "I don't open the door to strangers. You can't be too careful."

I glance at Wendy, and she just shrugs my way.

Whatever. So long as we get the information we need, I don't really care about Igor's fears or paranoias.

"How do you know the one at your school was a fake?" he asks.

I sigh. "Our teacher told us."

"And how did you know there was a coin at all there?"

I feel my lips draw thin. He's really testing my patience. I knew the coin was at Hawthorn—or what we'd been led to believe was the coin—because I'd heard Headmaster Stroud and Madame Aldine talking about it one day last year. Whether or not they knew it was a fake is anyone's guess.

But that's all beside the point, and it feels like Igor is just trying to distract from the important conversation.

"Please." Wendy steps in front of him. "So many people have died already. The Silver Hunters won't stop."

Igor finally stops his busy work and sits back in his chair. "No one knows where the real coin is. I've devoted decades of my life to studying it ... searching for it. It's said that there are thirty-eight hundred possible locations for it."

Wendy gasps. "What?"

My stomach sinks. How are we supposed to look in that many places? If that rumor is to be believed, then we'll probably never find the coin.

Igor's eyes glint in the candlelight. "It's not as mysterious as you might think. There are thirty-eight hundred islands in Nova Scotia. Some large. Some tiny. Most wilderness."

Wendy's eyebrow knits together. "You're saying that it's on one of those islands?"

"It could be on any of them," he says, his voice quavering. "And even if we knew which one it was on, the coin could be hidden anywhere on the island. In an abandoned shack. In a museum. In a cave. Under a rock."

He's right. Even if we did know that it was on an island, we wouldn't be able to just go there and search around. That would take weeks. Maybe even months.

Wendy's face falls. She chews her lower lip, and I can tell she's trying to decide whether or not she should say what's on her mind.

"What else?" I ask. There must be more.

"I only know two other things," Igor says. "The relic is hidden in plain sight, but it can only be seen in the dark."

"It can only be seen in the dark," Wendy mumbles. "Why?"

He lifts his palms to the sky. "That is all that fifty years of research has led me to."

Wendy touches my elbow. "What do you think?"

I try to ignore the electricity racing through me, the heat caused by her touch. We don't have time for distractions right now. "Let's talk outside."

She nods. "We'll be right back," she tells Igor.

We head for the door, but suddenly, Igor grabs her hand. "One more thing, before you make whatever plans you're about to."

"What?" she asks.

His eyes squint and become hazy, like he's drifting to a faraway place. "I can sense something ... great in you."

Her throat rolls with a swallow. "What?"

His lips turn down. "Great, yes ... But it can also be terrible if you don't learn to control it."

She sucks in a shuddering breath, clearly freaked out. Taking her other hand, I gently guide her to the door. "We'll be right back."

Her steps are shaky, though. Igor's words have just hit a nerve.

And a truth too.

Wendy is special. I sensed it the first moment I set eyes on her.

And I'll do anything to protect her specialness, her unique self. Even if that means, one day, sacrificing myself.