Guess that’s probably where the king lives, I thought.
I’d never once given any thought to the king before now, but seeing the castle there in front of us drove home that we really did have one.
“You okay, Chris? Let’s keep going,” said Hester, giving me a little verbal nudge.
I’d stopped in my tracks as soon as we’d entered the capital’s walls.
“Yeah. Let’s go,” I replied.
This is no time to get overwhelmed. You’ve got things to take care of, and you’re on a schedule, I told myself.
The three of us took a route that led us away from the flourishing streets, toward where the crowds were thinning.
After a bit of walking, a sturdy-looking barricade came into view in front of us.
I could already feel the familiar sense of the backstreets nearby, and I had a feeling that we’d find the black market on the other side.
There was a completely different vibe here to the area just inside the city gate, with its view of the castle and its throngs of people. It almost felt like we weren’t in the same city at all.
“Is the black market up ahead?” I asked.
“That’s right. If we pay that person there, they should let us in.”
Hester went up to a person stationed in front of the barricade and handed them a small sum of coins, which I assumed was an entry fee. You have to pay to get into the black market? I wondered.
Not only did entering the capital cost money, but it looked like gaining entrance to the black market did too. That felt a little weird, considering this was basically the slums. People barely had enough to scrape by here.
“Ready, Chris? Let’s go in,” said Hester.
I followed her, and the three of us entered the black market.
It was noon, but the whole place felt like it was engulfed in a dim twilight. We walked through the streets—none of which were paved—until we could see the whole market.
There weren’t tents like they had in the backstreets of Realzahd but instead a bunch of shady-looking stalls (if you could call them that) that were essentially just mats spread out on the ground.
There was an enormous variety of stuff, from the mundane to the outright bizarre, and the vendors seemed just as diverse as their wares. The most notable among them were the demihumans.
I’d never seen a demihuman in Dessir or Realzahd, but there appeared to be quite a few of them in the mix here in the capital’s black market.
From their distinctive physical features, it was clear that they weren’t the elves or dwarves you’d read about in your standard heroic fantasy. Rather, they were a mix between human and animal—the kind of beings you might call “beastfolk.”
From what I’d heard, racism against beastfolk was rampant and they rarely left the kingdoms of their kind unless there were some extenuating circumstances.
Judging by the conditions of the ones here that I could see just at first glance, I had a feeling that they’d probably been brought to the black market as slaves.
The fact that they could be bought and sold told me that even when beastfolk managed to flee their situation at home, many of them later found themselves sold as slaves. A shudder ran through me as I contemplated how awful a situation it was.
I was in no position to help right now, but maybe once I’d gotten my revenge on Claus and found myself labeled a traitor, I could fight for them or others in need.
My conversation earlier with Ralph and Hester had also gotten me thinking about that.
“Is everything okay, Chris?” Hester asked, once again concerned that I’d stopped walking.
“Yeah, it’s nothing. Let’s press onward.”
And so, the three of us continued through the black market as we made our way to where Vlad was apparently based. We weaved through alleys flanked by shops until eventually Ralph and Hester stopped in front of a particularly old building.
As we headed inside, I found myself relieved to see that Vlad’s “clinic” wasn’t just a sheet spread out on the ground.
The first floor seemed to have been converted into a storeroom of sorts and wasn’t really in use. We had to be careful not to trip as we made our way to the second floor.
I opened the door to see several patients waiting inside.
They must have been residents of the black-market district, because they all looked pretty raggedy.
The healer who tended to them was a mean-mugged man who appeared to be in his fifties. I assumed he must have been Vlad.
“Hello. It’s been a while,” Hester said to him.
He narrowed his eyes, practically glaring as he looked over at us, but when he realized it was Hester who’d spoken, he broke into a full grin and dashed over to us, leaving his patients waiting.
“Oh! You really came!” He said, wringing his hands as he spoke. “So, you’re really going to have the surgery performed here?”
“That’s right. We’ve prepared the funds we agreed upon last time.”
“Oh, very good! You’ve made an excellent choice! I-I’ll start preparations immediately!” Then, looking at his other patients, he announced, “Clinic’s closed for the rest of the day! Go home!”
The man clearly had no pride whatsoever, because as soon as he’d finished buttering Hester up, he shooed away the rest of his patients.
I already knew from the rumors that this guy was a real piece of work, but it had been a long time since I’d last met someone as untrustworthy as him.
“Come right this way! Sorry about all the mess,” he said as he led us to a smaller room. In the corner, there was a pitiful excuse for an operating table.
It certainly didn’t seem like the room got much use, because there was dust everywhere the eye could see.
“Now then... I’ll take the money first, if you please?”
His lips were twisted into a smile, but not a trace of it reached Vlad’s eyes.
Hester immediately made to give him the money—but I couldn’t let her do it.
It felt bad to back out now, when we’d come so far, but all of my instincts were screaming at me not to trust this man.
“Hester, wait,” I said. “Don’t pay him yet.”
“Excuse me? What?! This isn’t what we agreed on!”
“I don’t like your attitude. We’ll pay once you’ve successfully completed the surgery. If you can’t accept that, then we can just forget any of this ever happened,” I said.