“Clumsy,” the voice grumbled. I couldn’t decide if it was male or female. Though I guess it didn’t matter. What mattered was getting a weapon so I could do my training.

Another click like a snapping of fingers, and four huge urns lit up, flames rolling out of the top of them. And yes, I meant urns when I said urns. They were all black, and I could just make out some sort of inscription on them that looked like birth and death dates. A faint smell of burning hair filled the air, making my nose crinkle and my skin crawl.

I could only too easily imagine what the flames were being fueled with. I grimaced. Then I took a good look at the rest of the room. There were weapons on all the walls, from the smallest of daggers to swords that had to be eight feet long, arrows, bows, axes, and a flail that was pinned high to the wall with a sign that said, “Do not touch, will eat your soul.” Comforting, that one. I would be sure to pick something else.

The figure in front of me slowly stood upright and faced me. I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep from letting out a squawk. The face was kind of human, but there was a reptilian nature to it with tiny scales across the super high cheekbones, and the eyes still glowed somewhat in the light. “I sell for my boss.”

“You mean you didn’t make these?”

Fish shook his head (I was going with him for now). “No, boss sleeps during day, makes weapons at night.”

“Night owl, huh.” I dragged my eyes away from Fish and looked around the room. “How much for a dagger?”

“Which one?”

I didn’t think it wise to tell my newfound friend that I wanted the cheapest weapon they had. I pointed to a small dagger on the wall that had a bright turquoise handle. It reminded me a little of the colors on the death card, which seemed fitting. “How about that one?”

“Five thousand dollars.”

I blew out a sharp breath. “I have . . .” I peeled out the last of the cash I’d brought, or at least most of it. I needed room to negotiate. “I have five hundred and sixty dollars.”

The reaction was immediate. And rather unpleasant.

“You get out! You cheap whore!” Fish shoved at me with those long fingers, and I shoved him right back, making him stumble.

“Hey! I am not a whore and it’s rude to speak to a customer that way, Fish lips!” I yelled.

Fish gaped at me. “You hit me!”

I put my hands on my hips. “I pushed you, you liar. And you started it!” I pointed a finger at him. “I came here to get a weapon, and I’m not leaving without one.”