Dilapidated bamboo supports held up rotting wooden boards, upon which rested three items. One was a severed finger as thick as Shade's wrist, the sticky black blood at its broken base frozen solid. The other two wares could not be made out at all.
Miss Higgins took several deep breaths, then gathered her courage and addressed the shadow behind the stall:
"Excuse me, do you know...?"
Trembling, she took out a slip of paper and read the ancient rune written on it:
"Where is the Soul-Stealing Merchant?"
Shade blinked suspiciously, while the black shadow shook its head slightly and then pointed at its stall.
The witch thought for a moment before asking in a lowered voice:
"I have to buy something from you before you'll answer my question?"
This time, it nodded.
"I need time to think. After all, I don't have much money."
She started to step back. Even if they had to buy something to ask for directions, they did not necessarily have to buy it here. They could go farther into the market and look around.
But the shadow was unwilling to let any customer go. As the witch retreated, dozens of bloodstained black chains shot from beneath its feet toward her. Fortunately, Miss Higgins had not relaxed her guard for a moment. She swiftly swung her torch forward, while golden light shone from her right hand. The warm radiance dispelled some of the chill, and Shade was quite familiar with this power—it was the power of the Sun.
More than half of the chains attacking the witch slowed considerably under the torchlight, but the rest continued closing in. The fireball in the witch's right palm exploded like a bomb, sweeping through the surroundings, though the black fog limited it to only a short distance around her.