Read Online Mercury Mind (The Downfall Saga Book 1) by Chris Mccready - Free Book Online

were loudly hawking their wares, each trying to outdo their neighbors. The tables were garishly decorated in bold colors which stabbed his eyes. The smell of many unwashed bodies mixed with exotic spices from the food cooking over small fires, until it was so thick that it coated the tongue until you could practically taste it.
    Walking between two rows of stalls, vendors shoved their wares in his face. “Feel this, good sir. The finest silk in the land, buy it for your lady. I give you good deal, only today.” He continued walking and the individual voices were absorbed by the crowd.
    It only took a matter of minutes for the market to overwhelm him, and Donovan fought his way through the crowd towards its edge. Escaping into the first building he saw, he let out a sigh as he surveyed the interior of a quiet tailor’s shop. Bolts of cloth dominated an entire wall, a long counter sat on the opposite wall, and the interior was filled with rack upon rack of brightly colored clothes.
    “You clearly have good taste, fine sir,” came a voice amidst the racks of clothes. A moment later a small, skinny man, dressed in an outfit that would put a peacock to shame, wound his way between two racks and gently shook Donovan’s hand. “I’m Seiriol and welcome to my shop.”
    “Uh ... thanks,” said Donovan, not wanting to admit that he’d entered at random to get out of the bustling market.
    “What are you looking for? Formal wear? Evening wear?” he said, wrinkling his nose in disgust as he examined Donovan’s drab cloak.
    “I’ve been at Haven—”
    “A wizard,” interrupted Seiriol, “How wonderful.” He grabbed Donovan’s wrist in a surprisingly firm grip, and pulled him through the racks of clothing towards the back of the shop, talking the entire way. “Most wizards have no sense of style. It’s one thing to do something extraordinary, but it’s another to do it in style. I’ll make you stand out from the crowd. Try this on.”
    He shoved a lilac colored robe towards Donovan. It was so thin that he could see the creases on his hand through the material.
    “It looks awfully thin, and it gets cold up in the mountains,” said Donovan.
    “Heaven forbid that you’d wear it outside and drag the hem through the snow,” said Seiriol. Seeing the look on Donovan’s face, he put the robe back on the shelf and led him to another rack. “How about this?” He handed over a ruffled red scarf that resembled roses.
    “A scarf would help keep me warm,” said Donovan, politely. He started to wrap it around his neck when Seiriol grabbed his hand to stop him.
    “This is wasted on what you’re wearing. Come let us find you a suitable shirt.” Seiriol spent the next five minutes running his fingers along the racks of shirts before pulling out a mustard yellow shirt, at least two sizes too small for Donovan. “Let’s get these things off you, so we can try these on.”
    He tried to remove the cloak from around Donovan’s shoulders, but Donovan shrugged him off. Taking the shirt, he rubbed the material between his finger and thumb, before he turned the sleeve inside out to check the stitching.
    “This won’t do,” said Donovan. “Look at how loose this stitching is. It’ll start coming apart within a matter of months.”
    “Months!” said Seiriol, putting his hand over his mouth in horror. “These garments are for events. They’re not rags that you wear every day. I think you’d have better luck searching the rubbish piles to find something that goes with what you’re wearing. Good day.” He spun on his heels and evaporated amidst the racks of clothes.
    Shrugging his shoulders, Donovan found his way to the door and left the shop.
    Skirting around the edge of the market, he kept an eye out for Osmont, when a stall caught his attention. A small, heavily tanned woman sat behind a table with her stub of a leg resting on a stool beside her. She wore a plain white outfit, remarkable in its simplicity, and was