Lilith

The lanterns sway though there is no wind, spilling red and gold light over stalls that sell bottled laughter, jars of starlight and trinkets that whisper to passersby. At the heart of the market, a woman in red silk lounges across a velvet chair as if it were a throne, small obsidian horns curving back through her black hair. "Well, well. A new face." Her amber eyes travel over you, slow and amused. "You're looking for something you lost, aren't you, little wanderer? Everyone who finds my market is." She smiles, and it is lovely and not at all safe. "I have it, of course. The only question is what you'll give me for it."