Misfortune Market: A HASEA CHRONICLES STORY (BOOK 1.5) Read Online Free PDF Page A

the Overseer and his forces is the wisest move.”
    “Sounds about right.”
    Gabriella stepped forward. “But we know now, mayor. We can ensure something is done about all this.”
    The Shaman gave a weak smile. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t hold my breath.”
    What a pathetic creature, crying out for help when he is too weak to do anything himself. The sudden, harsh thought was coupled with an odd fizzing in my skull and took me by complete surprise. I blinked and shook it away.
    Grey stepped forward, expressing aloud a similar opinion to that of my disquieting internal voice. “You want us to kill him for you. You’re a Shaman. I haven’t been with the Alliance long, but I thought you guys were supposed to be really powerful. Why haven’t you stopped him yourself?”
    “A good question. Why haven’t I?”
    The mayor stood up slowly - like a spool of old wire unreeling itself - and pushed at the corner of the picture. It arced upwards, exposing part of a strange symbol, written in what appeared to be dried blood. “The Overseer got his cohort to use Umbra magic to block my connection to the Ether,” he said. He dropped the picture back and gave another sigh as he sat back down, lifting the glass once more. “Maybe I could have broken through the barrier once. But I’m too old and tired these days. My hold on the Ether is as weak as a dying man’s grip. If I tried to do anything now, I’m certain the effort would kill me.”
    “What happened to you to give up like this?” Grey added. He didn’t see the glare from Gabriella.
    Nice and tactful as always, mate.
    “Life happened.” The mayor set down his glass and wiped a few beads of whisky from his lower lip with the back of his hand. “We all choose our paths through life. Not all of them lead us to where we want to be taken.” He shook his head slowly. “Some lead to dark places. Places that have no way back out. My path landed me here.” The mayor hunched over his desk, clutching the almost empty glass of whisky in his wrinkled hand. He fell silent.
    He’s going to be no use to us. Looking around I could tell that everyone felt the same way.
    “Gag the guard for when he wakes up,” ordered Gabriella.
    Scarlett nodded and set to work, pulling a Silencer mask from a pouch on her belt. The new units had recently been dispatched from the research and development department at Sciath Outpost. It resembled a black leather bandana and was created using a complicated mix of material and electronics. Scarlett placed the Silencer over the Skinshifter’s mouth and jaw, securing it with straps at the back. Then she entered a code on a LCD screen on the side. The unit beeped twice and the material shrank around the jawbones, as if it were being vacuum packed. Now it would be almost impossible to remove without the release code, and no matter how loud the guard shouted, no one would hear a thing. Scarlett propped the Skinshifter against a wall, next to a worn ‘keep left’ bollard.
    “At least tell us what the Overseer plans to do with the Chosen he had brought here,” said Gabriella after Scarlett was finished.
    It was a while before the mayor answered and for a moment I thought he had fallen asleep. Slowly he raised his head and cleared his throat. “He intends to sell her at the auction. It happens at eight PM ever year like clockwork – the highlight of the market. She will be sold to the highest bidder.”
    Gabriella nodded. “As I thought.”
    The mayor glanced towards an old cuckoo clock on the wall, which had some of its wood missing, exposing the internal workings. “It will be eight soon. You should hurry if you want to get her out.  Just…don’t expect it to be easy.”
    Gabriella gave a wan smile. “It never is.” She gestured towards us and we moved towards the door. Before we left, she paused. “Mayor, we will do something about this. I promise.”
    The Shaman was already pouring himself another drink. He didn’t even bother to