Part 29

I resist the urge to head in the same direction the ferryman had gone.  “Come on, this way.”  I say, indicating the opposite direction.  

“But don’t you think-“  Mary says but I cut her off.

“Look, if that was Death, the means either Rush is alive and can take care of himself, or he isn’t, and whoever he was fighting with is coming for us now.  If it wasn’t, someone just got reinforcements.”

“They could be here to help us.”  Benny says.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself as I rise, ready to respond, but my brother does it for me.

“Or they could be here to hurt us.  I’m with Charles.  We keep going.”

I nod and check my wound.  There does not appear to be any new blood flow and I count myself lucky.  I set off at the best pace I can make, Jason beside me, steadying my every other step.  I want to shoo 

him away but am grateful he is beside me.

“So,”  He says, the pause tense.

“I’ve said I’m sorry-“

“Enough!  If I’m going to help, and it looks like I have little choice in that matter now, I guess I could lay down and let myself be over run by whoever is after us, I need to know what is going on.”

As we walk, Mary and Benny overtake us, and we walk in silence, alone with our thoughts.  Mine are the Black Bazaar, and what to tell my brother, before finally they move out ahead of us, Benny’s sphere leading the way.

“Okay,”  I finally say, “Let me start from, well, the beginning as I see it.”  I tell him of how I became an Underground Prince and my run in with the Troll King, leaving the fight with Rush out of it.  I fast forward a number of years, where I am established, a known Prince, and tell him of when I had seen Cyrus attack Mary in the subway station.  Hell, that felt like years ago.  I follow with the next encounter between Mary and myself.  I include all of the details, from the tarot card and our visit with the Snake Woman, Catherine to Cyrus’ and my meeting with Old Jenny.

“So, she wants to become one of these Princes?  A princess I guess?  And do you really think this is the best way to go about it.”

“Well,”  I pause as I think.  “Yes, I did”  I respond.

“I hear a ‘but’ that you are not telling me.”

“Yeah, but now I’m not so certain.  With all of the challenges we’ve faced…  You okay Benny?”  I call out and pick up my pace.

Benny is lying on the ground, holding his already damaged arm.  “I just landed on it wrong is all.”

Jason helps him to his feet while I kneel down.  “What did you trip on?”  I ask.

“I don’t know, something sticking out of the glass I guess,”

“Here,”  I say, brushing the pulverized glass off of what appears to be a large slab made from the same material.  “Clever.  Had you not tripped on it, we would have walked right past it.”  I sweep more of the glass from the slab before finding a seem.  “There’s more.”

Jason joins me in digging what soon becomes apparent is a walkway that leads straight into the rolling waves.

“Well, the path across the ocean.”  I say.  

“Hang on.”  Benny says, rushing away from the water, fishing in his pocket for something.

I can barely make him out, so far are we from the wall, but I can tell what he is doing.  It is not long before he is running a little farther away, and holding his sphere aloft, is back at the point next to the wall.

“What the-“  Jason says, his jaw slightly open.

“Remember how we got out of the VA?”  I remind him, and he nods.  I continue, “That’s how we did it.”

His mouth forms an oh, but no sound comes out.  Shortly, Benny rejoins us. “So who goes first?”

“I didn’t bring my swim trunks,”  Mary says, adding “But I’ll go.”

“No, I’ll go first.  You help Charles,”  Jason says, and to prevent any further argument, he leaps upon the uncovered path and walks toward the water.  “How is this supposed to work?”  He asks over his shoulder.  

“I don’t know.  Just keep walking,”  I tell him, and to his credit, he does.

The water slowly begins to swirl about his brown boots, but even as he steps further into the surf, it does not rise above his ankles.  

Mary grabs ahold of me.  “Your next, that way if you fall, I can catch you.”  I oblige and limp slowly out along the path.  The water is cold as it seeps through what little fabric remains on my tennis shoes.  Mary follows me and I can hear Benny’s heavy breathing, even over my own labored breaths, behind her.  

The pathway is no more than two or three feet wide at any point, and continues to be made of the same material, big stone-like slabs of the ground glass.  It is not long before we can no longer see the shore behind us and we count our blessings as the water remains no higher than out feet around us.  

We walk for well over an hour, afraid to rest lest the water, or something else, carry us off.  Shapes pass in the murky water to either side of us, and looking to my left I swear I see the shell of a turtle the size of a small car, but it is gone before I can point it out to anyone.  “Did you see that?”

But no one responds.  They are all looking ahead at the lights that are taking shape out of the darkness before us.  Hundreds of them.  Blinking and winking white lights like Christmas decorations, strung in both directions.  And the sounds.  I hear zydeco and something classical, maybe a flute.  Voices.  Voices too, someone is selling fish.  Someone has fresh mushrooms.

“Lady and gentlemen,”  I say, “It looks like we’ve found the Black Bazaar.”