Zuri stepped back as Makun entered, keeping the small table between them. Her apartment looked the same as this morning. Cluttered shelves. The smell of incense and coffee. But something felt different.
Her.
She was studying him with those sharp eyes, head tilted slightly like she was trying to solve a puzzle.
"Sit." She pointed at the same cushion he'd used hours earlier.
Makun sat. "What do you see?"
"You're different." She remained standing, arms crossed. "Something happened to you since this morning."
Different. The word hit him like cold water. She can tell. Just by looking at me.
"Different how?"
"You have access now. To things most people can't see or touch."
"What kind of things?"
Zuri walked to her kitchen counter, leaned against it. Distance between them.
"Reality isn't what most people think it is. There's more beneath the surface. And somehow, you've been given a way in."
How much of what I thought I knew was wrong?
"A way into what?"
She was quiet for a long moment. Then she sighed, like she was making a decision she'd regret.
"When I did your reading this morning, I saw very strong spiritual forces behind you. Attached to you. I've never seen anything like it in fifteen years of practice."
Fifteen years!
The number stuck. Makun was dumbfounde. Zuri looked so ylung. This meant she's been doing this since she was a kid. And she's never seen anything like what was on him.*
"What kind of forces?"
"The kind that don't let go. The kind that follow bloodlines, generational curses, things that get passed down." She rubbed her arms, like she was cold. "But now something's changed. Those forces... they're not the same. Something gave you access to the world they come from."
Bloodlines. Generational curses. Makun's chest tightened. He had no knowIedge of wha his family was, what could he have inherited.
Makun leaned forward. "What world?"
"The Mystic world. Hidden. Layered over everything normal people see." Zuri's voice was flat, matter of fact. "Most people live their entire lives without knowing it exists. But you've been touched by it. And now you can touch back."
"How do I learn about it?"
"You don't want to learn about it." Her voice sharpened. "It's treacherous. People will use you, manipulate you, consume you if they get the chance. Everything has a price. Everyone wants something."
"But I need to know." Makun's desperation leaked through. "I can see things now. Particles, energy, I don't know what. My head feels like it's splitting open. If I don't understand what's happening to me..."
"You'll go insane." She finished the sentence. "Or worse."
Silence.
Zuri stared at him for another long moment. Then she pushed off from the counter.
"There are places. Markets. They appear between midnight and 4 AM in different locations around the lower city. Mystics trade there. Knowledge, objects, services."
"How do I find them?"
"Follow the energy. You can see it now, right? The particles?" She waited for his nod. "The markets draw that energy like magnets. You'll feel the pull if you're walking in the right areas after midnight."
"What do I look for?"
"Scavengers. Bottom feeders who trade spiritual knowledge for payment. They'll deal with anyone if the price is right. Some are trustworthy. Most aren't." She walked to a drawer, pulled out a pen and paper. "There are signs. Ways to recognize who's safe and who's not."
She wrote quickly. A list.
"Mystics who wear silver jewelry openly are usually safe for beginners. It means they're not hiding what they are. Avoid anyone who won't make eye contact. Avoid anyone who asks about your family or bloodline in the first conversation. And never, ever make a deal with someone from the Hollow Court."
"What's the Hollow Court?"
"People you pray you never meet." She handed him the paper. "The markets move. Pier district on Monday nights. Warehouse district on Wednesdays. Old town square on Fridays. But they're not always in the same place twice."
Makun looked at the list. Her handwriting was sharp, precise. *I need to be careful. Really careful. One wrong move and...*
"How do I pay for information?"
"Cash works for basic stuff. But real knowledge costs more. Memories. Favors. Years off your life. Be careful what you agree to."
Years off my life. Makun's blood went cold. They can actually take that? What kind of world is this?
"Is there anyone I can trust?"
"No." The answer was immediate. "Trust yourself. Everyone else has their own agenda."
Makun folded the paper, put it in his pocket. "Why are you helping me?"
"Because you'll die if I don't. And I'm not carrying that guilt." She walked to the door, opened it. "This is all I can give you. Don't come back here."
"What if I need more help?"
"Find someone else." She held the door open wider. "I've already risked too much by telling you this."
Makun stood, walked to the door. In the hallway, he turned back.
"Thank you."
Zuri's expression softened for just a moment. "Be careful. The mystical world eats people like you for breakfast."
The door closed. Locks clicked.
Makun stood in the hallway, staring at the wood.
He had direction now. A place to start.
But he also understood something else.
He was completely on his own.
The mystical world was out there, waiting. And according to Zuri, it was full of people who would use him, manipulate him, consume him.
But what choice do I have? Stay ignorant and go insane? Or learn and risk everything?
But it was also the only place he might find answers.
Makun headed for the stairs.
Time to see what the night markets had to offer.