XXVII
The curtains behind the stage shuddered as something large was wheeled out for bid.
And the lights dimmed.
Something important was coming, I could feel it.
A low hum rose from behind the stage.
Then the attendants wheeled it out.
A metal cage rolled into the spotlight, its bars humming with a dangerous, crackling current. Every few seconds a flicker of blue lightning snapped across the metal, illuminating the stage in harsh, stuttering flashes. The cage wasn't large.
But whatever was inside had folded itself into impossible angles to avoid touching the bars.
My breath caught, because I knew that shape.
Because I knew that shape. It was as familiar as the back of my hand.
The Shadow Alien.
Long limbs bent like broken compasses.
Skin like shifting smoke.
A head tapering into a point, eyes glowing faintly like dying stars.
Its body flickered in and out of solidity, as if it existed half in this world and half in another.
One of the shadow aliens. One of the species that had
stolen my great‑aunt's spirit, dragged me from my own body, and dropped me screaming into this fractured world.
My hands tightened around the black lacquer paddle.
The alien shifted, its limbs recoiling from a zap of electricity that arced across the bars. It made no sound, they never did, but its body trembled with a strange, jerking rhythm.
The auctioneer lifted his skeletal arms.
"LOT FORTY‑SEVEN," he boomed, voice echoing like a tomb opening. "A CAPTURED SHADE‑BREAKER. IT CAN MIND SPEAK. RARE. DANGEROUS. RESPONSIBLE FOR MULTIPLE SOUL EXTRACTIONS. IT CALLS ITSELF A SCIENTIST."
A murmur rippled through the audience.
"Impossible to catch," said a man in a turban and goatee.
"Worth a fortune," one avaricious woman whispered.
"Look at its limbs—gods, it's intact," exclaimed a British accented shade.
"Whoever buys it will own a weapon," announced a man in an army uniform.
Vaude leaned toward me, his grin slow and wicked.
"Well now," he purred, "isn't this poetic."
The alien's eyes — if they were eyes — flicked toward me.
Recognition.
Or something like it.
My stomach twisted.
The auctioneer continued:
"THE CREATURE IS FULLY CONTAINED. ELECTRIFIED. SUBDUED. READY FOR STUDY… OR DISPOSAL."
A few specters raised their paddles immediately.
Vaude didn't comment as he faced me.
He watched my face as the cage on stage rotated for a 360 view of the creature inside.
"Darlin," he murmured, voice soft as velvet and sharp as a blade, "you look like you've seen a ghost."
I couldn't tear my gaze away.
This thing, or one of these creatures had torn my life apart.
Had ripped my great‑aunt's soul into tubes and smoke.
Had pushed me into a hole into this nightmare world.
And now it sat in a cage, trembling, powerless.
Maybe it was time.
Maybe it was time for revenge.
Vaude tapped the edge of my paddle with one gloved finger.
"You have infinite credit," he whispered. "If you want it… it's yours."
The auctioneer raised his bony hand.
"BIDDING BEGINS NOW."
The room erupted in a flurry of paddles.
But all I could feel was the weight of the paddle in my hand.
And the alien's faint, flickering stare.
The bidding rose like a storm.
Paddles snapped up across the velvet rows, voices overlapping, the air thick with greed and desperation. The electrified cage onstage crackled again, casting jagged shadows across the auction floor. The shadow alien inside twitched away from the bars, its limbs folding like broken geometry.
"Fifty soul coins."
"Seventy."
"One hundred."
"One fifty!"
The crowd was heating up fast, the kind of frenzy Vaude adored. He lounged beside me, watching the chaos with a fox‑bright grin, but he didn't bid. He was waiting to see what I would do.
I lifted my paddle.
"Two hundred."
A ripple went through the room. Heads turned. A few specters hissed.
Then the counter‑bids came like thrown knives.
"Three hundred!"
"Four!"
"Five hundred!"
The auctioneer's voice boomed, delighted by the rising stakes.
"WE HAVE FIVE HUNDRED. DO I HEAR SIX?"
I raised my paddle again.
"Six hundred."
A woman with a veil of drifting smoke snarled and snapped her paddle up.
"Seven hundred!"
A skeletal man with neon blue suit shouted, "Eight!"
The alien inside the cage shifted, whatever passed for its eyes, and flickered them toward me. Recognition. Or fear. Or maybe it sensed the connection between us, the unfinished business.
The bidding surged.
"Nine hundred!"
"Nine fifty!"
"One thousand!"
The room erupted with gasps, curses, and a few cheers. A thousand soul coins was a fortune. Enough to buy a small part of this world. Enough to buy a life. Enough to buy a peaceful death.
Vaude leaned in, voice a velvet purr, side of his mouth quirking upwards.
"Careful, sweetheart. You're making enemies."
I barely heard him.
Because in my mind, everything else in my thoughts was louder.
Home.
My real body.
The cold, still weight of it lying somewhere far away.
Maybe in a hospital bed.
Maybe in a morgue.
Maybe in a coffin.
Maybe my greedy family had already buried me alive, eager to claim whatever inheritance they thought I'd leave behind. They wouldn't wait. They never waited. They'd sign whatever papers they needed to. They'd call it a tragedy. They'd cry for the cameras.
I would be trapped here forever.
Unless this creature could undo what it did.
Unless it could take me back.
Unless it could return me to my body before it decayed, before the world forgot me, before the soil closed over my name.
My hand tightened around the paddle. The alien stared at me, trembling, its limbs drawn tight to avoid the electrified bars. Its people had stolen my great‑aunt's spirit. It had dragged me into this nightmare. It had torn open the door between worlds.
Maybe it could open it again.
Maybe it was my only chance.
The auctioneer lifted his skeletal arm.
"ONE THOUSAND SOUL COINS. GOING ONCE—"
The room held its breath.
"GOING TWICE—"
Vaude's grin sharpened.
"If you want it," he murmured, "claim it."
The paddle felt heavy in my hand.
And the alien's faint, flickering gaze locked onto mine.
"SOLD TO THE LITTLE LADY NEXT to Mr. VAUDE for ONE THOUSAND SOUL COINS."
Many of the crowd moaned with their loss. Others murmured congratulations. An alien was a great opportunity for territory expansion, for rejuvenation, or advanced technology to them. For me, he could be my way home.
Vaude and I made our way to the auction's backstage where I was made to tap my card against one of the glowing marble tablets for payment. The cage and its contents were all mine. Lock, stock, and electric shock.