Read Online The Poison Eaters and Other Stories by Holly Black - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Holly Black
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her and she's sick."
” To break curses. Sumpa , an antidote.” He indicated a third pot.
"How much?” Tomasa asked, reaching for her pockets.
His grin widened. “Wouldn't you like to assure yourself that I'm the real thing?"
Tomasa stopped, unsure of herself. What was the right answer?
"What's that in your mouth?” he asked.
"Just a pit. I bought a plum,” she lied.
"You shouldn't eat the fruit here,” he said, extending his hand. “Here. Spit it out. Let me see."
Tomasa shook her head.
"Come on.” He smiled. “If you don't trust me a little, how can you trust me to cure your sister?"
Tomasa hesitated, but she thought of Eva, flushed and pale. She spat the golden pendant into his palm.
He cackled, the sound dry in his throat. “You're more clever than I thought."
She didn't know if she should be pleased or not.
One of the mananambal's fingers darted out to dot her forehead with oil. She felt wobbly.
"What did you do?” she managed to ask. Her voice sounded thick and slow as smoke.
"You're a fine piece of flesh, even with that face. I'll get more than I could use in a thousand brews."
It sounded like nonsense to Tomasa. Her head had started to spin and all she wanted to do was sit down in the dirt and rest. But the gold-toothed man had her by the arm and was dragging her away from his table.
She stumbled along, knocking into a man in a wide straw hat who was running down the aisle of vendors. When he caught hold of her, she saw that his eyes were green as grass.
"You,” she said, her voice syrup-slow. She stumbled and fell on her hands and knees. People were shouting at each other, but that wasn't so bad because at least no one was making her get up. Her necklace had fallen in the dirt beside her. She forced herself to close her hand over it.
The elf pushed the mananambal , saying something that she couldn't quite understand because all the words seemed to slur together. The old man shoved back and then, grabbing the enkanto 's arm at the wrist, bit down with his golden tooth.
The elf gasped in pain and brought down his fist on the old man's head, knocking him backwards. The bitten arm hung limply from the elf's side.
Tomasa struggled to her feet, fighting off the thickness that threatened to overwhelm her. Something was wrong. The potion vender had done this to her. She narrowed her eyes at him.
The mananambal grinned, his tooth glinting in the floodlights.
"Come on,” he said, reaching for her.
” Leave me alone,” she managed to say, stumbling back. The enkanto caught her before she fell, supporting her with his good arm.
” Let her alone,” said the enkanto , “or I will curse you blind, lame, and worse."
The old man laughed. “I'm a curse breaker, fool."
The elf grabbed one of the Jim Beam bottles from the table and slammed it down, so that he was holding a jagged glass neck. The elf smiled a very thin smile. “Then I won't bother with magic."
The old man went silent. Together, Tomasa and the elf stumbled out of the night market. Once the music had faded into the distance, they sank down beneath a balete tree.
"Why?” she asked, still a little light-headed.
He looked down and hesitated before he answered. “You're brave to go to the night market alone.” He made a little laugh. “If something had happened to you, it would have been my fault."
"I thought I was just stupid,” she said. She felt stupid. “Please, end this, let my sister get better."
"No,” he said suddenly, standing up.
"If you really loved her, you would let her get better,” said Tomasa.
” But I don't love her,” the enkanto said.
Tomasa didn't know what to make of his words. “Then why do you torment her?"
"At first I wanted to punish her, but I don't care about that now. You visit me because she's sick,” he said with a shy smile. “I want you to keep visiting me."
Tomasa felt those words like a blow. Shock mingled with anger and a horrible, dangerous pleasure that rendered her
” To break curses. Sumpa , an antidote.” He indicated a third pot.
"How much?” Tomasa asked, reaching for her pockets.
His grin widened. “Wouldn't you like to assure yourself that I'm the real thing?"
Tomasa stopped, unsure of herself. What was the right answer?
"What's that in your mouth?” he asked.
"Just a pit. I bought a plum,” she lied.
"You shouldn't eat the fruit here,” he said, extending his hand. “Here. Spit it out. Let me see."
Tomasa shook her head.
"Come on.” He smiled. “If you don't trust me a little, how can you trust me to cure your sister?"
Tomasa hesitated, but she thought of Eva, flushed and pale. She spat the golden pendant into his palm.
He cackled, the sound dry in his throat. “You're more clever than I thought."
She didn't know if she should be pleased or not.
One of the mananambal's fingers darted out to dot her forehead with oil. She felt wobbly.
"What did you do?” she managed to ask. Her voice sounded thick and slow as smoke.
"You're a fine piece of flesh, even with that face. I'll get more than I could use in a thousand brews."
It sounded like nonsense to Tomasa. Her head had started to spin and all she wanted to do was sit down in the dirt and rest. But the gold-toothed man had her by the arm and was dragging her away from his table.
She stumbled along, knocking into a man in a wide straw hat who was running down the aisle of vendors. When he caught hold of her, she saw that his eyes were green as grass.
"You,” she said, her voice syrup-slow. She stumbled and fell on her hands and knees. People were shouting at each other, but that wasn't so bad because at least no one was making her get up. Her necklace had fallen in the dirt beside her. She forced herself to close her hand over it.
The elf pushed the mananambal , saying something that she couldn't quite understand because all the words seemed to slur together. The old man shoved back and then, grabbing the enkanto 's arm at the wrist, bit down with his golden tooth.
The elf gasped in pain and brought down his fist on the old man's head, knocking him backwards. The bitten arm hung limply from the elf's side.
Tomasa struggled to her feet, fighting off the thickness that threatened to overwhelm her. Something was wrong. The potion vender had done this to her. She narrowed her eyes at him.
The mananambal grinned, his tooth glinting in the floodlights.
"Come on,” he said, reaching for her.
” Leave me alone,” she managed to say, stumbling back. The enkanto caught her before she fell, supporting her with his good arm.
” Let her alone,” said the enkanto , “or I will curse you blind, lame, and worse."
The old man laughed. “I'm a curse breaker, fool."
The elf grabbed one of the Jim Beam bottles from the table and slammed it down, so that he was holding a jagged glass neck. The elf smiled a very thin smile. “Then I won't bother with magic."
The old man went silent. Together, Tomasa and the elf stumbled out of the night market. Once the music had faded into the distance, they sank down beneath a balete tree.
"Why?” she asked, still a little light-headed.
He looked down and hesitated before he answered. “You're brave to go to the night market alone.” He made a little laugh. “If something had happened to you, it would have been my fault."
"I thought I was just stupid,” she said. She felt stupid. “Please, end this, let my sister get better."
"No,” he said suddenly, standing up.
"If you really loved her, you would let her get better,” said Tomasa.
” But I don't love her,” the enkanto said.
Tomasa didn't know what to make of his words. “Then why do you torment her?"
"At first I wanted to punish her, but I don't care about that now. You visit me because she's sick,” he said with a shy smile. “I want you to keep visiting me."
Tomasa felt those words like a blow. Shock mingled with anger and a horrible, dangerous pleasure that rendered her
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