After several minutes of wandering the aisles and dodging requests by persistent vendors to take a look at their goods, it became pretty apparent that the chances of just stumbling into Keirran were slim to none. This place was massive; I could walk right past the Iron Prince and never know. Luckily, that hadn’t been my only plan. I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, though, because it meant I was going to have to do something I hated and tried to avoid at all costs.
Bargain with the fey.
I searched the market until I found a booth that sold “potions for all ills,” run by a well-dressed, ancient-looking gnome. He stood on a stool beside a counter full of different-size vials and bottles. Vial of Forgetfulness, one read, next to a large display of Minor Love Potions and Jars of Friendship. The gnome blinked as we came up, raising an eyebrow that looked like a fuzzy gray caterpillar.
“Human?” His voice squeaked like a centuries-old mouse. “Unusual. How did you find your way into the market?”
“Does it matter?” I asked him, keeping my head down and my voice low.
The gnome sniffed, and his voice turned wheedling. “No, I suppose not. But while you’re here, how ’bout you buy one of my wares? I have a lovely selection of love potions. Guaranteed to work, you know. You have that pining aura all around you, boy.” He grinned, showing crooked yellow teeth. “Or perhaps there is a rival? This lovely vial right here will turn your enemy into a cockroach.”
“No,” I said, repressing a shiver. “I’m just looking for someone, a friend of mine. Part human, silver hair, my age.” I didn’t say exactly who he was; the gnome definitely would’ve recognized him, but I didn’t want word spreading that we were looking for the Iron Prince. If the vendor had seen him, he’d know who I was talking about. “Have you seen him? And if you haven’t, do you know of anyone who might have?”
As I was talking, I swung my bag off my shoulders, unzipped it and reached into the side pocket. The gnome gave me a sly grin, but before he could say anything about cost, I pulled out a full bottle of honey and plunked it on the table.
He blinked. “What’s this?
“Payment,” I replied flatly. “For information.”
“Hmm.” The gnome regarded it appraisingly, trying not to look eager, though I saw it anyway. “I do use honey in a lot of my potions, but I don’t know if that will be enough of a trade...”
I snatched the bottle off the counter and turned. “Fine. We’ll just find someone else.”
“Wait! Wait.” The gnome threw out his hand, scowling. “Very well.” He sniffed. “You drive a hard bargain, human. Give that to me, and I’ll tell you what I know.”
Still wary, I handed it over, placing it within reach this time. The vendor snatched it up, sniffed the cap deeply and smiled. Tossing it behind the table, he turned back to me with a grin.
“Sorry, human. Haven’t seen him.”
I breathed deeply to stop myself from punching this faery in his smirking head. “That’s not what I asked.”
“You wanted me to tell you if I’ve seen your friend.” The gnome sounded smug. “And I answered. I haven’t seen anyone like that around here. I gave you the information we agreed on, human. This bargain is done.”
Dammit, this was why I hated faeries. I didn’t have many bargaining chips left, and we still didn’t know where Keirran could be. At least we hadn’t been negotiating for something important, like my voice or my future kid. I’d have to word any requests very carefully next time.
But before I could say or do anything else, Annwyl spoke up, startling us both.
“No,” she said, coming around to stand beside me. Her voice was firm, shockingly different than the shy, quiet girl I’d known so far. “Not everything. You’re ‘forgetting’ the second part of the question. Do you know of anyone who might have seen our friend? This market has an information broker, does it not? Where can we find it?”
“Ahhh.” The gnome shuffled his feet, not meeting Annwyl’s fierce glare. I was still staring at her in shock and also kicking myself for not catching that myself. “Well, like I said,” he muttered, “I haven’t seen your friend. But there is an information broker around here, I believe.”
“Where?” Annwyl asked, her tone hard.
“She has a tent two blocks down,” the gnome said, pointing with a crooked finger. “Not very obvious—you’ll have to be looking for it to see it. Just keep an eye out for the crows.” He glared at me. “And you’ll have to have something better than a jar of honey to get the information you’re looking for. She ain’t nearly as nice as I am.”
Oh, goody. More bargains. Wonder what this faery will want. If it even mentions my firstborn kid, I swear I’m going to punch something.
Without another word, Annwyl turned and headed back into the market. Giving the gnome one last glare, I followed.
“I thought you didn’t remember anything about goblin markets,” I said as we dodged around a booth to avoid a troll stalking by, sharp tusks curling from his jaw. “Not that I’m complaining, of course. I was just surprised. Are you starting to remember?”
“No,” Annwyl said, back to being quiet and shy, not looking at me. “But I’ve made a few bargains in my lifetime, and I know my way around the tricks and loopholes.” Her voice hardened. “I wasn’t going to let that gnome get away with not telling us about Keirran.”