Vince took the holder, and remarked on the bands on it. He tied it over his waist and put the book in tenderly.
When he was finished, a question came to his head.
"Wait, why are we getting a book-holder on the black market?"
He said, and his voice was full of bewilderment.
Jasper crossed his arms to him.
"The reason is fairly simple. Some artifacts have been touched by a god. Because of this, by law, shopkeepers have to check any artifact or book to see if they feel anything supernatural."
Ah, that makes sense, Vince thought.
The harshness of Jasper startled him out of his thought.
"Salomon, what weapon are you interested in?"
Vince thought for a moment. His thoughts went back to the gun that he had adored all along, in the place that he used to work. Memories covered with pain and confusion started to appear.
A gun.
At the thought of it his chest clenched with a queer warmth. It was nearly shocking to recollect that which he once loved after all the things that had occurred.
"A gun", he said with a slight smile.
Jasper threw back his head, and looked at him in the shadow of his mask. Vince fancied a response momentarily but Jasper only turned and went over to a nearby stand.
The tents were long, and stacked with arms. To the left were the larger weapons: muskets, rifles, and such other weapons, which Vince could not instantly identify. On the right there were smaller and more compact handguns: revolvers, pocket pistols, the guns of close battle.
Vince was starting to feel like his former nerdy self coming up again with his eyes going over the options.
Which would be better for me? With a rifle I shall be confined largely to long range. A pistol would be forcing me within firing distance. Only, suppose the power of the book is in one of those ranges? Wouldn't that matter too?
At first sight each weapon resembled another, but the more he gazed the more the details emerged. Others were light wood-finished, others were of dark oak, which was polished and rough in various spots.
His gaze fell upon a revolver which was well on the shelf. Something in the design was in place. He pointed to it.
The seller picked up the weapon and gave it to him. The weight was constant and even and Vince twisted it in his hands. The steel barrel was not so shiny but the timber handle was obviously made by hand, with each cut taken prudently.
"Made with love," the joyful seller said, his voice muffled by the shadow covering his face.
Vince looked a little longer at the gun, then shook his head over himself.
Vince and Jasper began to walk away. Vince fell somewhat as he felt the pain in his head once more.
Jasper caught on quickly and pointed to another stand.
Vince now had three gold and ten silver left. He had bought the revolver with a box of fifty rounds. For close protection, he picked up a dagger. While still in the black market, he also bought a new set of clothes, rich cotton fabric that offered a layer of protection from another stalker.
As they went down to the stand Vince caught sight of the neat rows of bottles and the mummified bodies of animals. There was a sickly odor in the air and more mist floated through the market.
then the voice of a woman broke through the mist.
"How may I help you?" she asked. Her voice was not harsh, it was pleasant and warm.
Jasper replied without any hesitation.
"Do you have any Ash Woke?"
The woman chuckled lightly.
"Oh, I would have been trying that, but, yes, I do."
Hiding beneath the counter she pulled out a slim black box. Five syringes were found inside, each of them in its place.
Her voice was still warm, almost motherly, as she said,
"Three gold coins, please."
What! Vince got his words mixed up. Three gold? Are we serious? And I do not even know what that is!
Vince pulled out his last three gold coins with heavy regret and put them in his pocket. He put them into her hand, and she handed him the box.
They walked out and Vince felt that his pain in his head was disappearing. He looked at Jasper.
"Um… Jasper, why do I need this?"
Jasper slipped away a few coins, and smiled to him.
"These needles may act to put your mind into its place since it is so influenced by anything supernatural. They are a medication that you inject into any major vein, hand, arm or leg."
I have to take a drug now? Vince thought, his stomach turning.
"Well then, our day is over," he muttered.
Jasper stopped and looked at him. His voice was calm, but it carried weight.
"Oh no, not yet. We do not even know what your artifact can do, so we will be testing it."
Testing it? Where? Vince's unease grew.
He turned the corner of a building pursuing Jasper. The voice of a man echoed there, and was sharp and unsteady.
"Hey! What are you doing?"
A heavy thud followed. The voice of the man sank down to a deep groan.