Chapter 18 #3
“He can’t do it on his own, and since I did nothing wrong, he won’t find anyone willing to help him. Not again,” he says. “But that doesn’t mean he won’t be a whiny little bitch about it.”
I laugh, and Malakai gives me an amused smirk. Even though technically we did something wrong by breaking out, Malakai leans in and gives me a feather-light kiss, making me forget my questions and concerns.
“Come,” he says. “There is much more to see.”
And indeed, there is so much more to see.
Like the paperware shop where he commissions a custom wax stamp for me.
I laugh and joke about how old-fashioned that is, but it turns out any correspondence between inhumans is sealed with wax.
The personalized stamp is used along with a signature on official documents.
So, along with the stamp, he gets me a set of all the necessities to use it and lets me pick out a fountain pen as well.
“Don’t I need my own Mark for the stamp?”
“You do, and you have one. You’ll see when the stamp arrives.” Malakai effectively shuts me up with that.
The amount of money we spend in this shop is enough to make my head spin. But it’s only when we reach a shop that sells nothing but spices that I come to fully understand the true monstrous nature of the man I’m married to.
Malakai is like a kid in a candy store. It would be almost endearing if it weren’t for the tiny bag of spices that costs thousands.
Spices that, as he explains, enhance flavors in food are only noticeable to inhumans.
Even though I’m neither human nor inhuman, he’s sure I’ll be able to taste it as well.
So he begins purchasing the most ridiculously expensive spices and has the shopkeeper bag them up for him.
It’s the only thing he doesn’t have sent to the office, and I wonder what all the fuss is about. It doesn’t help that he can’t really explain what they’re made from, giving me vague descriptions of a plant that only blooms every hundred years.
“Guess you’ll just have to cook me dinner sometime soon,” I remark in reaction to his vague and unhelpful explanation. Malakai laughs, but I know he wants to. He likely already has the dish picked out.
We wander around some more, looking at shop windows, but nothing stands out until we come across a sidewalk sign indicating an antiquities shop around the corner.
“Are antiquities for inhumans the same as for humans?” I inquire.
“Usually older, and the shops here carry quite a few items that humans don’t even know exist.”
The shop window looks pretty much the same as those I’ve seen in the art district of the human city. I try to decide whether to go inside when the hair on the back of my neck stands up and chills run down my spine. I look around but can’t see anyone.
“Something wrong?” Malakai asks.
“I’m not sure. I have that feeling of being watched again.”
Malakai’s eyes scan the area as well. It’s clear he’s annoyed that he can’t find the source. “Seeing as we don’t know who or what this is and we’re surrounded by inhumans, magic won’t pinpoint it either,” he says, clicking his tongue. “Not without something to guide it.”
“I know.” I sigh. “I just hate this seemingly perpetual feeling of being watched.”
I glance around the street again and then back at the shop window, making up my mind.
Malakai is right. We can’t do anything without knowing who or what we’re dealing with, so I decide not to let it spoil the day.
It takes just two steps to enter the antiquities shop and feel as if I’ve stepped into a completely different world.
The inside of the shop is decorated in dark natural tones of brown and green, smelling exactly as I would expect it to—like dust and mothballs, with a hint of cedarwood. The front of the shop is packed with tables and display cases filled with more items than the eye can behold.
Walking around, I stop to admire the paintings, picture frames, and mirrors that hang on the walls.
I’m fascinated by the tables and display cases holding books, pelts, and, most of all, all kinds of taxidermy—animals, insects, and reptiles.
There are bones and skulls—most animal, but some clearly not.
“Is that a human skull?” I gasp softly, lowering myself to get a better look.
“It is,” Malakai confirms, amusement clear in his voice.
“That’s so wrong,” I say, yet my fascination is evident.
“Is it, though? Many inhumans find humans to be nothing more than evolved animals, below them on the food chain. Although many wouldn’t even be alive without their human ancestry.” Malakai squats beside me. “Even you seem more fascinated than disturbed.”
“That’s because I’m wondering—”
“Hmm? Wondering what?”
I bite my lower lip hesitantly. “I wonder what it’s like to… you know…” I gesture to the skull. “Do this.”
“Skin a human skull?” I nod. “You want to try it? I can teach you.”
I look at him, eyes wide. “You’ve done it?”
“Once or twice. I find it oddly therapeutic.”
Malakai stands, and I follow suit, stepping into the adjacent room.
Most of this space is filled with taxidermy—animals, reptiles, insects, and some obviously human body parts—all equally fascinating.
The non-human pieces contain many specimens I’ve never seen or heard of before.
Malakai explains that many are exclusive to the more desolate parts of the Underworld.
It makes me realize how little I know about what’s out there and how much more I have to learn.
Amidst the taxidermy and glass vials of wet specimens, one catches my eye: a glass bottle about forty centimeters high and twenty-five centimeters wide.
It’s filled with ethanol, sealed shut, and inside rests a beautiful white snake.
Its mouth is wide open, baring teeth as if ready to strike, despite being very much dead.
The most fascinating part, though, is the pair of white, feathery wings on the snake’s back. They’re beautiful and grand, resembling bird wings.
“What is it?” I ask, captivated.
“An amphiptera—a two-winged serpent. They used to live deep in the forests of Northern Europe.”
“Used to?” I look at Malakai over my shoulder.
“They’ve been extinct for centuries. It’s rare to find one preserved like this.”
“Do you think it might be fake?”
Malakai checks the price tag. “For this price, I hope not.”
“Is there any way to tell?”
“A specialist might be able to.”
I look at the amphiptera for a while longer, finally letting out a long sigh. “It’s beautiful.”
“I’ll ask the shopkeeper if they have more information.”
I nod at Malakai, and he returns to the front room. A few minutes later, he shakes his head. “They got it from a private collection and claim it’s real, but it seems unlikely.”
“Good thing it’s too expensive anyway.” I laugh, though it doesn’t sound sincere.
The look Malakai gives me tells me he knows I’m a little disappointed—in both the price and its likely authenticity. It’s a beautiful specimen that has me truly mesmerized. I secretly already have a spot in the library picked out for it. It would have looked gorgeous.
If it weren’t so expensive, I might have bought it. But spending this much on something that’s likely a fake feels wasteful, and I won’t tell him that. I know he’ll just convince me to get it anyway, insisting we can afford it.
So, I hold my tongue, take his hand, and drag him back outside, a smile on my face nevertheless.
“Why,” I ask as we sit in a small café having a drink, “do some inhumans choose to live here instead of outside—among humans?”
“It used to be mostly inhumans that looked too… well, inhuman. They couldn’t blend in, so they decided to stay in cities like this.
I reckon it’s still partly like that. Not everyone wants to live a life pretending to be something they’re not,” Malakai tells me.
“But it’s also about comfort, safety, and a sense of belonging.
Even though purebloods and half-breeds aren’t the same, half-breeds are more like purebloods than they are like humans. ”
“What about those with even less inhuman blood? Surely not every half-breed is half-half.”
“Everyone with a drop of inhuman blood is welcome here, as long as a Door opens for you.” Malakai grins, something wicked crossing his face.
“Except for the family. No Door will let them in,” he explains upon seeing the question in my eyes, sounding way too delighted by this. “And trust me, they’ve tried.”
“Is there… a reason?”
He shrugs, which could mean that he either doesn’t know or doesn’t care.
“Something else, then,” I say, staring out the window. “What’s beyond this city? Or is this all there is?”
“It’s mostly wasteland until you reach the next one,” Malakai finally says after a moment. “Some are crazy enough to wander beyond the city borders, forgetting that many creatures prefer to live in the darkest corners out there.”
Looking at him, we both realize I probably have an infinite number of questions to ask.
“This world is a mirror of the human world. Or perhaps the human world is a mirror of this one… No one knows which came first. The major cities here are mostly situated in the same geographical locations as the human cities. Some smaller ones are scattered around. But since this world has no oceans, much of it is wasteland,” Malakai explains.
“I assume this world isn’t really underground, is it?”
He shakes his head, a smile on his lips. “It’s more like an alternate dimension—parallel to the human world and accessible through Doors like the one we used.”
I nurse my cup of tea and lean back in my chair, musing over this. “I still have so much to learn, so much to discover,” I mumble.
“And you have forever to do so,” Malakai retorts, picking up on the flicker of uncertainty in my voice. “Now that you know how to get here, nothing’s stopping you from returning—from learning and exploring.”
“You’re not going to chaperone me each time?” I laugh, and Malakai smiles back.
“I’m sure that as soon as you find your way around, you’ll be unstoppable, chaperone or no chaperone. Just let me know when you’re up to no good, and I’ll join you. It’s been a while since I’ve brought forth some good old death and destruction.”
I almost choke on my tea, barely able to contain my laughter. “I would love to bring death and destruction with you someday.”
“I’m sure you do.” Malakai winks at me.
“But in all honesty,” I say after a moment of silence, “I’m relieved the Door recognized me.
” Malakai meets my gaze, and I know he can tell how important that moment was for me.
“I don’t know what I would have done if it hadn’t.
” My smile falters, a shaky breath escapes my lips, and my eyes shift away.
“It would only mean I made you too well,” Malakai says, effectively drawing my gaze back to him. “And I would have found a solution if it hadn’t let you pass.”
I know he would have, and that knowledge eases some of my anxiety.
“Are you…” I hesitate for a heartbeat, wondering if this next question is one I truly want answered. “Are you okay with me being neither human nor inhuman?” My voice is slightly unsteady, and I bite my lip, hoping he didn’t notice.
“Love,” Malakai says, drawing my gaze to his, “I wouldn’t have made you like this if I wasn’t. You’re…” Now it’s his turn to hesitate. “Perfect.”
I look at him with wonder in my mismatched eyes, our magic softly humming between us, that pull in my chest assuring me of the truth in his words. His own eyes are soft, the gold even more molten than usual, and I open my mouth to ask if he feels it too—
“Alright,” Malakai says, effectively cutting me off as he quickly empties his mug. “Let’s go. We still have somewhere else to be today.”
My mouth snaps shut, irritation flaring inside me, coloring my cheeks. Just for a moment, because the touch of his magic betrays his feelings. It tells me that now isn’t the time, and perhaps that’s for the best. I’m not sure this is the right time for me either.
So I go along with it.
“We do?”
Malakai only grins at me as he gets up. We leave the café, and I immediately feel it again—that dreadful, nauseating sensation of being watched. Malakai follows my line of sight, but neither of us can spot anything or anyone.
“The most unsettling part is,” I say, throwing another look over my shoulder as we walk away, “I can sense them now because they want me to.”
“Sooner or later, they’ll reveal themselves. And it will be the last thing they ever do.”
He knows how to comfort me, this husband of mine.