It was an aged lighter, wrought from tarnished brass and inlaid with mother-of-pearl. Its surface was engraved with what seemed at first glance to be a simple pattern of rising smoke, but as Martin gazed at it, the engravings seemed to rearrange themselves and move as if they were true plumes of smoke escaping into the sky.

  Martin held out a hand and gently touched the lighter with his finger. He was expecting a shock or some increased sensation, but the lighter stayed motionless beneath him. He looked up at the masked man in the tent. The man lazily leafed through a small booklet and displayed a page from it. He handed it over to Martin to read. The page held a crudely drawn sketch of the lighter and some hastily scrawled information about it.

  “This lighter was blessed by the Giver of Ashes. If infused with energy, when struck, its wick can never be blown out. Only when the oil inside runs dry will this lighter cease. It can reveal hidden words, start fires that cannot be put out, and mesmerize the weak-willed.”

  Martin was shocked at the power claimed for this tiny device, but as he flipped through the book, he found every item on the seller’s blanket had a similar supernatural origin and effect. Still, he couldn’t deny that there was some power in the lighter he could feel. No price was specified in the booklet, so Martin made his own offer of three pennies.

  The man shook his head violently at the offer and gestured up with his thumb.

  Martin placed a few more pennies on the blanket, and the man shook his head again, slightly less violently. Sly coughed slightly behind him as Martin placed a single coin more on the blanket. The man shook his head once more, crossing his arms this time.

  Martin made an exaggerated shrug and slowly reached out to take up the coins. The masked man reached out quickly and swooped them up. He counted them quickly and then tossed the lighter into Martin’s waiting hands. Sly bit back a laugh and pulled Martin towards the exit before he could waste his money on any more junk. Martin tried the lighter a few times. It lit smoothly, but none of the other effects were readily apparent. He lit it a third time and brought it close to his face. He blew gently on the tiny flame, and it went out. Martin laughed softly at himself and slipped the lighter into his pocket. Unnoticed by him, the faintest ring of soot began to form around his thumb with each successive light, only to slowly fade away.

  As he and Sly left through a house on the other side of the building from their entrance, Sly immediately began to give him a hard time about his purchase.

  “If you’re looking to waste a day’s wages, just give them to me. Or we could go drinking and gambling with that money. I know a great rat that’s dodged two premium terriers already. I’d be happy to place a bet for you on its surviving a third.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I just wanted a souvenir of my trip, and something about it just felt right.”

  “You think it was actually from the…what did that booklet say, the Ass of the Giver?”

  “Giver of Ashes, you mean. Don’t you disparage my lord and master.”

  “Right, right. A thousand pardons.”

  “Not for a moment,” Martin lied, “But I likely won’t be back to the night market again anytime soon. It’s a nice design and a neat enough tale for the boys at the bar.”

  “Hmm.” Sly left it at that for a moment before finally muttering, “You’re getting sentimental in your old age.”

  The two put the matter aside for a moment.

  “That book,” Martin finally ventured to ask. “That was the cause of the search we went through the other day, wasn’t it?”

  “Aye. That it was. Was a close one, too, for whoever it was that took the thing, I mean.”

  “Sly, one of these days you, I mean, the person who took the thing is going to get caught.”

  “There’s always an end to everything. I do the best I can with what I've got, and if that runs out, then I’ll just have to move on to the next thing.”

  Martin could tell Sly wasn’t interested in pursuing this line of questioning. The two changed to less sensitive topics as they returned home for the night.

  The next day was uneventful. Martin was a bit concerned he hadn’t heard from Jacques about his investigation into Rafe, but he figured if there was an imminent danger, he would have heard something right away. The lighter was in his pocket all day, and his curiosity about it was burning a hole in his head. In the end, his curiosity beat out his caution, and he decided to head back into the military quarter after work to have Oddscog appraise it. He still did not walk naively into the quarter. From Crane’s Landing, he took a roundabout route, walking well around his usual street into the quarter and coming at it from a completely different direction. Little did he realize that as soon as he left the Landing, he had picked up a second shadow.

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  Despite his roundabout way, Martin made good time to Oddscog’s shop, and having come at it from the opposite direction of Manton’s Range, he managed to avoid any sightings of the crazy old sailor. Remembering the other day, Martin gave three quick knocks, followed by two slower ones, before opening the door.

  He found Oddscog in the same position he had seen him previously. This time, he was hunched over a pocket watch, a large magnifying glass over his right eye. Oddscog looked at him inquisitively through the glass.

  “Ah, it’s you again. Martin, was it?”

  “That’s right. Sorry to disturb you, Oddscog, there’s something I’d like your opinion on.”

  “Oh, you learn from Jacques quickly. Well, let’s have it then.”

  Martin crossed the small shop and extricated the lighter from his pocket. As soon as he did, Oddscog’s magnified eye fixated on it, and he let out a soft “uh-huh.”

  “Do you recognize this?” Martin asked as he placed the lighter on the counter.

  “Never seen it before. Definitely has that Cosmic taint to it, though. How did you come by this?”

  Martin outlined his experience at the night market, including the pulling sensation he had felt and the description written in the book. Oddscog snorted slightly upon hearing that the item came from the Giver of Ashes.

  “Well, I’ve never heard of any cosmic bearing the moniker the Giver of Ashes before, but it’s a big world, and what’s beyond it is far bigger still.”

  Oddscog picked the lighter up and examined it closely, lighting it a few times and then blowing it out. After he put the lighter down, he brought his thumb up to the magnifying glass, but what he was looking at, Martin couldn’t tell. After a moment of introspection, Oddscog brought his finger up to his lips and let out a quick whistle. Immediately after, there came a crash from the backroom of the shop, followed by the sound of tiny metal items sliding down and splashing across the floor and an accompanying bout of profanity. A moment later, a curly-haired lad no older than Will poked his head through the curtain.

  “You whistle for me, boss?”

  “Yes, I did, Timothy. Come out here, please.”

  The boy ambled out and stopped near Oddscog. He looked briefly at Martin but didn’t seem to be overly interested in his boss’s guest. Oddscog cleared his throat and gestured for Timothy to come closer.

  “Now, Timothy, I’d like you to look at this lighter.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Oddscog went to flip the switch again, but this time Martin could feel an immediate difference. The pulling sensation increased dramatically, and Martin could feel that Oddscog was channeling some of his own power through it.

  “Interesting,” Oddscog muttered. “Take a look at this.”

  With his free hand, Oddscog gestured toward Timothy. Martin pulled his gaze reluctantly from the lighter and looked at the boy. The boy had a blank look on his face, but his eyes were intensely focused on the lighter. Oddscog brought the lighter up, and the eyes followed. He brought it down and then around, and the eyes followed again. At last, he brought it close to his lips and blew out the flame. Timothy’s eyes remained staring at the place they last saw the flame for a breath or two before finally allowing themselves to blink. With that blink, it was as if a spell was broken, and Timothy began to look around the room as if seeing it for the first time.

  “Uh, boss. What just happened?”

  “That’s quite enough, Timothy. Thank you. You may return to the back and make sure those metal glasses get put back in order.”

  “Uhh, sure thing, boss.”

  Timothy shuffled back behind the curtain, muttering to himself about the weirdness of this shop. Before Martin could speak, Oddscog held out his hand towards him, making a thumbs-up gesture.

  “Look at my thumb.”

  Martin eyed the thumb, and only after a close inspection did he notice a faint ring of soot around it. As he watched, it slowly disappeared.

  “Would that be the item's curse?”

  “Part of it. After just a brief experiment, I can confirm that at least you weren’t completely ripped off. This is indeed a cosmic trinket. From which deity, I can’t say for certain, but I imagine a fairly minor one in the grand scheme of things. For its power, when infused with power from its holder, it has a simple bewitching effect, and I stress simple. I couldn’t influence Timothy’s actions in any way; I could only hold his interest in the flame. Even that effect is limited. For the simple-minded and the mentally ill, you could probably keep them enthralled until you ran out of oil. For anyone with some mental discipline, say a Church Inquisitor, they’d probably just laugh and drive a holy lance through your heart.”

  “Still, not a bad effect for dealing with everyday people.”

  “No, but you should still exercise caution. The ring of soot seems to generate even when just using the lighter normally. Faceless in particular tend to be resistant to these kinds of effects as your powers naturally seek to return you to your proper state, but too much use will eventually cause a permanent stain, and where that stain would stop, I can’t say.”

  “Noted. Thank you.”

  “There’s one more thing, and this is the major drawback to using the lighter’s effect. When I activated its effect, I was able to hold Timothy captivated, but at the additional cost of compromising my own vision. I could still see him, but the edges of my vision turned blurry, and focusing became a much more challenging task.”

  “Well, that is a slightly more concerning effect.”

  Oddscog offered the lighter back to Martin.

  “Here, try it.”

  Martin flicked the lighter on. He watched the ring of soot slowly form around his thumb, but didn’t feel any other sort of effect.

  “Uhm, how do I do it?”

  Oddscog shot him a look of disbelief.

  “Aren’t you Jacques’ apprentice? He hasn’t shown you that much, at least?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  Oddscog let out a sigh.

  “Well, take a seat. We could be here awhile.”