Fear and rage spike in my body, turning my heartbeat thunderous. The newcomer’s head whips in my direction—and his eyes are a deep brown. Not red. I blink. Rhaz has haunted my dreams, just like every other horror from that night at the cave. Had I imagined it? I look to Sel for confirmation, but his face betrays nothing. I can’t tell if he saw the boy’s eyes change, or if the boy’s eyes even changed at all.

The boy looks back at Sel, then tilts his head to Alonzo and gives him another order. “Wave and clap.” The words are jovial, but the tone has a note of dark warning. Everything about this newcomer is balanced on a razor’s edge between charm and threat. The warlock blows air out slowly from his mouth and waves like a performer who’s just put on a scene.

“Let us return to our regularly scheduled show,” the boy says, all charisma once again. “Applications for these abilities can be started at the bar, along with the usual deposit, of course.” The newcomer raps his knuckle once on the counter and turns to the small crowd, a bubble of relative quiet while the show rages on at the stage. “Nothing to see here, friends, but if you insist on gawking, you may as well get a drink. Next round on me!”

A group rushes the bar, assaulting Alonzo with eager orders.

“You two.” The newcomer has pivoted in the second that I glanced away. “Who are you?”

Sel narrows his eyes. “Who are you?”

The corner of the young man’s mouth quirks. “My name is Valechaz. You may call me Valec. I am the proprietor of this bar.”

“You’re the broker?” I ask.

Valec smiles. “That I am.”

Shock rockets through me, but Sel’s face remains smooth.

“Every bit of magic that happens in this bar is authorized by me,” Valec continues, “and I can have you tossed into my oubliette out back in a blink of an eye if I so wish. Faster than even you can move, Merlin.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” says Sel.

Valec’s face hardens a fraction.

“You announced the stage act, the Morrígna,” I say. “I recognize your voice.”

Valec’s smile is pleased. “That is one of my favorite parts of the evening.” He leans into me slightly, and I get a whiff of something dark, spicy, and burning. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it.”

“Step back,” Sel demands.

“For the final time. Who are you? Full names, please. First and last. Truth only—or the aforementioned oubliette.”

“Selwyn Kane.”

Valec’s eyes brighten, then dim.

The handsome, strange boy turns to me. “And you, beautiful?”