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  Event Horizon Perfume Oil

  A disconcerting scent, heavy and oppressive, through which no light, no matter, and no spirit can escape. Black opium, labdanum, opoponax, black orchid, and benzoin.

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  The Blood Garden Perfume Oil

  Vast open tents have been erected further down the lane. Ornately carved wooden poles support swaths of drooping black lace and blood-crusted burgundy velvet. Grapevines and ivy creep over the beams in the tent and curl like cocoons around bodies that hang upside-down in the caliginous gloom of the tents. Within the shadows, pale figures recline on divans covered in moldering, frayed fabric. As you pass, a feral, white-haired man hoists a tall-stemmed crystal glass of deep red liquid in a toast to you.

  Blood accord, bitter clove, English ivy, Tempranillo grape, red currant, oak, leather, blackberry leaf, and ginger lily.

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  Mr. Jacquel Perfume Oil

  Shadow looked up at the creature. “Mr. Jacquel?” he said.

  The hands of Anubis came down, huge dark hands, and they picked Shadow up and brought him close.

  The jackal head examined him with bright and glittering eyes; examined him as dispassionately as Mr. Jacquel had examined the dead girl on the slab. Shadow knew that all his faults, all his failings, all his weaknesses were being taken out and weighed and measured; that he was, in some way, being dissected, and sliced, and tasted.

  We do not remember the things that do no credit to us. We justify them, cover them in bright lies or with the thick dust of forgetfulness. All of the things that Shadow had done in his life of which he was not proud, all the things he wished he had done otherwise or left undone, came at him then in a swirling storm of guilt and regret and shame, and he had nowhere to hide from them. He was as naked and as open as a corpose on a table, and dark Anubis the jackal god was his prosector and his prosecutor and his persecutor.

  “Please,” said Shadow. “Please stop.”

  But the examination did not stop. Every lie he had ever told, every object he had stolen, every hurt he had inflicted on another person, all the little crimes and the tiny murders that make up the day, each of these things and more were extracted and held up to the light by the jackal-headed judge of the dead.

  Golden amber, hyssop, North African patchouli, and embalming spices.

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  Patchouli Clove Soap

  Husky patchouli and bitter clove in a soap swirled with bonfire ash.

  Out of Stock