Amelia and Korath traveled together south from Highden, taking the train down to the Coliseum district, and then walking to the Red Light District.

She had not expected to actually begin the hunt for Castien Brielwa today. A week separated her last visit with the knowledgeable shopkeeper Urgul and her meeting with Korath. That they were advancing so quickly meant either good tidings or very, truly awful tidings were in play.

The Red Light District glittered in the mid-afternoon sun, which had just peeked out of the clouds now that the rain had stopped. The business signs were unlit and the workers did not yet own the sidewalks, but there was still something strangely inviting about the vice-heavy neighborhood, all the bars and brothels, the secret shops and blushing faces hurrying in and out of every building. Even at this hour, its spirit was still there in part.

It had only been a couple months since Amelia came to this place. She thought back to her first real mission in Fleettwixt, just her second day in the city, and the first of her many days of relentlessly beating drug dealers to find information. Something rang nostalgic in her mind to remember such simpler times, when finding Ed seemed like a far-off dream.

Now, it almost felt like Ed was here beside her—

Except that, in actuality, Korath was her companion for the day. And the two could not have been more apart from one another. Where Ed was gentle, vulnerable, yet forceful, Korath was cold, courteous, yet contemptuous. Ed burned a smoldering ember, while Korath froze his surroundings. The only similarity was that both were quite obsessive, and extremely secretive. And both frustrated her to death because of it.

Korath’s beauty hid the dark fury that lurked underneath every action he took. One did not simply walk into necromancy—one was pushed, often violently, over the threshold. She saw what he did in Berryward, and knew full well what he was truly capable of. To underestimate Korath would be to lay down belly-up in front of a hungry dragon.

Still, she was somewhat confused about the fact they had come to the Red Light District at all. He had barely spoken since they left the coffee shop; at first she relished the chance to be rid of his voice, but suddenly she wondered if it was worth asking to explain what they were doing, seeking information in a place like this.

In fact, the building they headed into was Margaret’s Secret, the very same brothel she had gone to before, that had helped her get her start assaulting and killing one particularly nasty drug dealer.

As they entered, the cool indoor breeze hit them and Amelia chilled over. What a place, she thought. Six stories of sex and decadence.

As they entered, the woman at the service counter, a felid in frilly lingerie, waved to Korath. “Ah, welcome back, Mr. O. How are you doing?”

“I’m excellent,” Korath said. “Is my girl here?”

“You betcha!” the service counter woman exclaimed. “I’ll call her down on radio.” Then she looked at Amelia. “Who’s this one?”

She did not seem to be one of the felids who was here for Amelia’s excursion, as she showed no signs of recognition. If it had been the one who had offered her a free year’s service, she likely would have been too embarrassed to continue here.

“Just a friend,” Korath said. “I thought she and I might get to know each other better this afternoon.”

A sly smile from the felid, and a sly smile from Korath. “Oh, that sounds wonderful.” Then in a business-like tone, “But, I will have to add an extra charge to your room for the second guest. Just a flat fee, though, not by the hour. Is that okay?”

“Certainly okay with me, dear,” Korath said. He looked at Amelia with the most disgustingly flirty face she had ever seen from an elf.

She wanted to point at his face and say, “Die,” but that was unfortunately considered improper etiquette in public. So she held her tongue and stayed silent.

“She’s so shy,” the service counter woman said. “And oh my, she’s certainly a butch, alright. Where did you find her?”

“Where did you NOT?” Korath asked jokingly. “Hands off my pal.”

“Aw, I was going to poach her. I haven’t had a butch in a long time.”

“You’re missing out.”

Finally, Korath’s woman came down to greet the two of them and end this horrible conversation.

She was a young—shockingly young—gnome with (comparatively) large breasts and no clothes at all, who greeted Korath with a lot less familiarity than Amelia might have expected. “’lo, Mr. O. Ready?”

“Of course, Cind. Let’s venture up.”

“Right. Let’s take off!”

They entered the central elevator, the one made of glass with a full view of the whole brothel, and Amelia looked out at the massive complex while the machine raised them up.

Amelia looked at this gnome, Cind, and then back to Korath. “She’s an adult, right?” she whispered.

“Of course,” he said. “Everyone here has to post their IDs publicly on the employee register. You can’t fake that.”

“We both have fake IDs.”

“True, but—”

“I’ll have you know,” Cind said, “that I’m still in this elevator. I can hear you. And I’m thirty-two, thank your racist ass very much.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Amelia decided not to speak for the remainder of the elevator ride.

After they arrived on the fifth floor, and walked down a long, oddly clean, strangely quiet hallway.

Amelia, still incredibly uncomfortable about this situation, began to wonder about Korath and this Cind woman. Was this really Korath’s type? As a golem in a human body, she certainly had no room to judge, but Korath did not seem at all the type to pay for sex in the long-term like this. He seemed more like the kind of person to “sample the flavors of his palate,” so to speak, or to have already settled down and married by the time he was twenty. As an elf, he was likely hundreds of years old by now, though, so even this fell flat.

Really, Amelia’s entire exposure to glossals in general had been, up until this winter, limited entirely to the backwater farming communities she spent most of her life in. Life outside of Fleettwixt was much different, much more conservative and traditional. People lived and worked all their lives as hard as they could. When two women or men married, they were still expected to raise large families to keep their hometowns strong—even elves, to some extent. The main thing that made Amelia and Ed outcasts of their village, it honestly appeared to be their lack of children running about. Ed was twenty-two and not a single offspring, a travesty in the minds of the village elders.

Amelia could not help but sigh. Another bout of nostalgia for a time unrecoverable.

They entered a room with one small bed, a bathroom, an empty bookcase, and some bondage gear over by the side.

Cind looked at Korath and said, “Here you go, like always.”

“Thanks for your eternally great service, Cind,” he told her. He flipped a gold coin at her as a tip—

She swatted it away.

“I’m not some poor waitress,” Cind spat. “Don’t insult me. I make salary, asshole.”

The gnome exited the room and slammed the door behind her. Korath bent down and picked up the coin he failed to tip with.

“Awful girl, isn’t she?” Korath asked.

“Just horrible.”

“So, for our real reason here...”

Amelia looked away from him. “This had better be about the mission.”

“What, do you think I wanted your company?” He laughed and sat down on the bedside. Then he tapped the empty space beside him and beckoned her to sit next to him. “Think of this as a bonding exercise. A quite special one.”

“Die,” she said, now that they were no longer in public.

“Sit.”

Reluctantly, she came to his side and sat down.

“There are certain ways,” Korath said, “that people like me, people like us, are forced to operate. We work in the shadows because we must.” He waved his hand, and with kinesis magic moved the bookcase to the side, revealing a door-sized opening. Somehow, Amelia had not noticed how out of place the bookcase was until now.

Just seconds later, out of that opening stepped a figure with a long, poofy dress. A gray-haired human with fur wrapped around her neck, and long, painted fingernails with every color of the rainbow. Her lipstick was on so thick that any kiss from that mouth would leave a mark lasting weeks.

“If you need information, go straight to the power broker,” Korath said. “A person with knowledge.”

The woman licked her lips and said, “A Seer.” She smiled, observed her two guests like a beast looking down prey. Her powers were obvious just from her stance. Mana radiated from her as if she could attack at any second.

Amelia finally took off her hat and eye patch and stood up, ready for a quick fight—

Korath pulled her back down. “Show some respect to the Seer.”

“She’s dangerous.”

“Yes, and very wise,” he said with a knowing voice. “That’s why we’re here.”

The Seer gazed on Amelia curiously. “You’re... Ah, Mr. O, who is your new friend?”

“I’m Am—”

“She’s Ms. B.” He shot a look at her, saying something along the lines of, don’t reveal your actual full name to people you’ve only just met.

Amelia realized the blunder and moved her eyes away. All this time, she had been so casually disregarding of secrecy, but this far in it all changed. It was much less acceptable to run into situations rifles blasting when the danger level was this high.

Still, it seemed like the Seer recognized Amelia. From that first glance, it was almost instant recognition. She attempted to hide it, but did so quite poorly. Was it her powers, or...?

“We seek your guidance, Seer,” Korath said. “You’ve helped me many times before. Help me again.”

“Of course. You have helped me many times as well, young Ondolinde. What guidance do you seek?”

Korath looked to Amelia. “Well?”

She had been keeping the truth of the matter from him until this very moment, and now was the time to reveal. She stood up and spoke: “We want to find a man named Castien Brielwa,” she said. “He is an influential man in certain fields. We represent an interested party looking for...” She paused. “Looking for souls.”

The Seer touched a long fingernail to her cheek. “Souls...”

“Glossal souls.”

And with that, the Seer gave a big smile, showing off her bright white, very crooked teeth. “I’m very pleased by this suggestion. In fact, I can make an arrangement immediately.”

Amelia’s heart, figuratively speaking, nearly stopped. They were getting so close to Castien. All of this work, and it was finally almost there.

“But,” the Seer said, “Castien Brielwa is a very difficult man to meet. I hope you know it will take some time to allow his schedule to open.”

Amelia’s heart sunk at the words.

The Seer continued, “Especially not without the guarantee of a positive financial outcome. You do have the money, don’t you? Or any proof of it?”

Amelia rummaged through her pockets to find another soul gem to use as a tip, but before she could manage to grab one, Korath had already gotten up. He held out his vortex amulet.

“If he needs collateral, this should suffice.”

The Seer stared at it in wonder. “Ye Gods.”

“Be careful with it,” he said with a smile. “I’ll be getting that back, I hope.”

“I shall contact you as soon as the details are sorted out. You shall have your souls soon enough, Mr. O. Ms. B.”

With that, the meeting was over.

Korath and Amelia left the brothel, after some small talk between the elf and the felid at the service counter, as well as a glowing, very false review of the gnome’s prowess. An employee who recognized Amelia passed by and said something to her, but she ignored it as best as she could. The less she stayed in this place, the better, and not because of the supposed immorality involved.

If they were truly to meet with Castien soon, then she needed to be prepared for anything.

“Give me an address,” Korath said when they finally came outside. “I’ll send you a letter when the meeting is set. We can group up a few hours early and prepare. Is this kill or capture? Who is this Castien man, anyway?”

“A core elf accountant for North Sunwell. He’s got access to the whole soul harvesting operation.” Amelia assumed that, at least. If she ended up wrong, Korath would probably attempt to kill her right then and there. But she knew there would be a massive amount of soul energy at stake here. Just seeing that cart full of gems in the synth facility told her that much. “Capture. Absolutely no killing.”

“Excellent. Then we can succeed together and get a great bounty out of it.” He gave a curtsy-like bow and said, “I’m glad to have met you again, Amelia. We’ll work well together. We always do.”

“Yeah.”

She told him a P.O. box she had set up as a forwarding address to the hostel, and they parted ways.

Revenge was just around the corner. Ed, too, if she was lucky. Now all she had to do was wait.