Bazaar of Death: Sixteen

Before Kehnan could react, Sabit was climbing into the cart to better study the strange device and the bracelet perched atop of it. Several people had already crawled aboard the huckster’s cart, proffering coins in outstretched hands. The huckster gathered the money and handed out the tiny porcelain cups.

A beefy woman with a desperate look in her eye was the first to swallow the inky, black liquid, slurping it down noisily. The huckster snatched the empty cup from the woman’s hand as she collapsed, seemingly lifeless. The ruddy color of her skin quickly turned ashen as she slumped to the floor of the cart. Her eyes were open and unmoving, as black as a moonless night. And yet, the woman’s lips twitched into a serene smile.

Sabit pushed toward the device, careful to step around those already in the grip of the potent liquid. The huckster stepped in her way. He offered the spear woman a cup and said, “A gift, champion. Surely, having seen so much death in your years, there are many old friends who have ventured beyond the veil. What questions would you ask of those beyond the buzzard’s beak? Would you delve the secrets of the past, or learn what the future holds?” He held her gaze, his eyes alive like a burning coal in the moonless night.

“I know what the future holds,” Sabit said, taking the offered cup. “It holds whatever I choose.”

She drained the cup in a single gulp.



Wayfarings of Sabit: Bazaar of Death is copyright (c) 2017 by Michael S. Miller. All rights reserved. New chapters post every weekday. You can support this and other stories on Patreon: or