“You’re both deranged, and you always were,” Nick drawled. “I’m never going to be done getting you tiny lunatics out of trouble.”
He did not sound deeply upset about it. Mae dimpled up at him. “We get you out of trouble right back.”
She had changed out of her beautiful dress, which meant that Sin had been able to force her into it for all of twenty minutes. She was wearing a black business skirt and heels, which was not exactly Mae’s style but which suited her somehow, and a pink T-shirt that read AND THEN THEY ALL LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER (BARRING DEATH, DIVORCE, ARREST FOR TAX FRAUD, THAT INCIDENT WITH THE POOL BOY…) The letters on her shirt got too small to read at that point.
Against her pink shirt was the dull gleam of the black pearl, the talisman safeguarding her from demons, the jewel that canceled out a demon’s mark. For at least seven years, and then they would see.
Nick looked away from Mae and at a random patch of grass.
“We could…,” he said, and hesitated. “We could grab a cup of coffee. Sometime. You and me.”
“Are you asking me out?” Mae inquired.
She waited for Nick’s tiny nod, and then she was beaming, even brighter than before. Sin would not have thought that was possible.
“I don’t know about coffee. I might hold out for dinner.”
“We can do whatever boring thing you want,” Nick told her.
Mae laughed. Sin thought she was trying for mocking and sophisticated, but Mae just sounded happy. “Ah, l’amour.”
“I’ll entertain myself looking at your face,” Nick said. “You know I like that.”
“Yeah,” Mae said, beaming and beaming. “Sounds like a plan.”
They couldn’t stand around here talking all night. They had to be seen around the Market, shaking hands and walking through the stalls, and it was almost time to dance.
When Sin set off, Mae followed her at once. She caught on fast, that girl.
They had never dared hold the Market in such a public place, but now with the magicians’ spells for privacy here they were, in a park surrounded by the purr of cars, a palace not so far away. The stall of lights was located on a statue of Queen Victoria, beacon lights dripping around her neck, a single love light hanging from her stone scepter.
Helen the magician was standing at Carl’s weapons stall, having an animated conversation about morning stars.
Phyllis’s stand of chimes was gone and would never be set up again, but Ivy had put up chimes around the scrolls and tablets and old books in her stall. The chimes sang out softly as she moved around them, their song calling passersby to her stall.
Sin stopped and spoke to Matthias, who was walking along with two older women behind him, making complicated hand gestures as they went. Neither of them, unlike Matthias, was Asian.
“These are my parents,” Matthias said, and gestured to the women, his thin piper’s hands moving with easy, fluid grace. He had his pipe tucked away.
“A pleasure,” said Sin, and shook both their hands.
One of the women gestured at Sin after she was done shaking hands.
“She says she’s heard a lot about you,” said Matthias. “She’s probably thinking about someone else. If you’ll excuse me, there are a lot of gullible tourists to rook once I’m done showing my parents around.…”
He laughed, dark eyes sparkling in his thin face. The other woman took his arm, her face much amused: She clearly thought her horrible little boy was hilarious.
Sin blamed it on the parents, really.
She just felt lucky she’d had good ones. Her father was walking through the Market for the first time in years, with Lydie and Toby in tow. He’d promised they would all come and watch her dance.
Later they would all go home together. There would be food on the table, the children would be looked after, and Mae would be in charge of the Market for now, making reckless, brave decisions, even though she would obviously need a little help.
There was time now to rest, to do the right thing by Lydie and Toby, to work out exactly what kind of leader Sin wanted to be, and if she wanted to be a leader at all.
And there would always be the Market. There would always be magic, and the dance.
Jonas and Chiara stopped her next, asking where Merris had gone, and Sin had to tell them she’d left already.
“I’ve been thinking,” Jonas said. “Do you think that necromancer at Mezentius House was Merris’s boyfriend? At her age! That’s nasty.”
“I don’t know,” said Sin. “I’m planning on having a boyfriend at her age myself.”
“Alan Ryves for life?” Chiara asked, making a slight face.
“That’s the plan,” Sin told her, and as if all he needed was to be called, she finally caught sight of Alan. He was talking to one of the magicians, an older man, but when he saw her looking he excused himself and limped over the grass to join them.
“Doesn’t matter if you disapprove,” she told Chiara. “Every one at school thinks he’s a catch. An older man, you know. With a car.”
She came a few steps to meet him and lifted her face to his, kissed him with her eyes half-closed under the Goblin Market lights. It didn’t matter whether the Market thought she outshone him a thousand times or her school wondered how on earth she’d snagged him: They knew each of them had a hundred masks, and every one was true.
“Hey, Bambi,” said Alan.
Sin smiled up at him. “Hey, Clive.”
“Who disapproves of me?” Alan inquired. “If it’s your dad, I can talk him around. Where is he?”
“My dad has seen Nick and is in a state of deep and profound thanksgiving at present,” Sin informed him. “My grandma doesn’t much like the idea of me and a white boy. But she’s not here.”
“So I’ll come around for tea,” Alan said. “Give me ten minutes.”
“Don’t disappoint me like this,” Sin murmured. “Make it five.”
She heard their new leader and her retinue calling out for them, so before the others reached them, Sin caught his face between her hands and kissed him one more time for luck.
“Now,” she said, and looked around inquiringly. “Who is going to dance with me? Since I haven’t convinced Alan to put our dancing lessons into practice—yet.”
She looked at Nick and at Mae, both good choices, and then she got another surprise.
“If you don’t mind,” Jamie said, “I think I’d like to try.”
Sin blinked. “Are you a good dancer?”
“I am.”
“You’re a man of many mysteries, James Crawford,” Sin told him, and Jamie looked extremely gratified.
It would look good, the darling of the Goblin Market and the leader of the magicians, dancing together. It would be a symbol of the fact that all this could really work.
“If she’s teaching you to dance,” Nick said in a low voice to his brother, “I want to teach you how to use a sword.”
“Well, if you would really like to,” Alan responded, lazy and affectionate, as if he was promising Nick a treat.
Nick raised his eyebrows at Alan, and Alan grinned.
“More than anything in two worlds,” Nick murmured. Alan leaned his shoulder toward Nick’s, not quite touching.
“Learn to duel after you sing for me and Jamie,” Sin commanded.
She wanted more people to hear him sing, wanted his voice to help bring the Market together, the voice she loved, the one that had called a demon in and made him understand.
It made Sin think for a moment of another demon, who had spared her for no reason at all, except that he might be beginning to understand too.
Liannan might be right. This might all pass, so fast, time and hope slipping through their fingers.
There were other magicians besides the Circle that was now part of the Market, and demons still watching outside this world, hungry and cold. This gathering under the Market lights might not work.
But here they were, for this night at least.
And it might work.
This was the Goblin Market, where you could find anything, even a new side of your true self.
Sin reached out and took Jamie’s hand, interlacing his fingers with hers, and stepped with him a little apart from everyone else: the demon and his brother, Seb the magician and her leader. She made them her audience and gave them her best smile.
“Come on then,” she said. “Let’s dance.”
Jamie smiled and followed her lead into the dancing circles. The lights strung along the boughs traced bright arches over them all, united for now at least. There was music starting, a fresh and beautiful tune, their new leader in her bright pink shirt presiding over them all. Alan’s head was bowed over his guitar. Nick was sitting in the grass at his feet, like a child waiting for a bedtime story, ready to listen to a song. There was a silver scythe-shaped gleam in her partner’s dark eye.
For this one night, magic was everywhere.
It might last.