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from The Hunt for Bheanoira by Dacia M Arnold

Chapter 5

The General Store was a massive barn of a building lined in reflective gold sheets and full of trading booths of all sorts, like the street market only doubled. Four rows of stations made two alleys down the full length of the barn. The air swirled of exotic herbs carried by wind coming from wide open windows near the high ceiling. An amber glow was given off by glass orbs spaced evenly on the walls.

“Does he have a booth somewhere in here?”

“Oh, no suh. He owns the stowa.”

“What is this? These aren’t candles. Is it even fire?”

“No, suh. They call it eletwic. They make it in the mill over the river.”

“Magic?”

“Miss Annie says it’s not, but I’m not quite shuh.”

“Do you know what this Alesdair looks like?”

“Yup. Can’t miss him.”

“You know you should just keep to words without the letter R in them.”

“Theyas a cue-uh, but Beaw is so angwee with me, he said I desuhve my lot in life.”

“We’ll see. Go ahead and find him. Don’t approach him, just come tell me when you see him.”

“Yes, suh.”

“Just call me Jude. Not sir.”

“Uh-huh,” Sam muttered as he walked into the crowd.

Jude wondered slowly along the opposite alley with a careful hand over his satchel. The magic items he carried were meant to render enough gold to live in the town for some time. Even with his temporary inheritance of the inn, he could not take money from Annabella in her state. Though, until that venture dried up, he would hold onto the contents of his bag. Gold seemed to lose its novelty to locals and with a warm dry place to sleep, he had no need to pay for much.

His boots kicked up little dust on the stone floor and the scent of spices—saffron, turmeric, ginger—floated in the air with the occasional waft of warm bread and exotic melons as he passed the various booths. Jude had his eye out for a particular item, one Sir Gregory mentioned in his journal but Jude was unable to locate on his quest. Sciorta was the last place he had to look for the jar of memories. He had plenty of memories in his own mind, more bad ones than he would care to keep to himself. His alternative was to find someone o...






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