Slinking through the back streets, Orion led Kora with a wary eye. These ends weren’t his ends, and these people weren’t his people. He recalled Thimble claiming the safest way to contact him was through Old Joe, the man who dabbled in blacksmithing, alchemy, and dealing. Unfortunately, Orion only vaguely remembered Old Joe’s location. Luckily, or unluckily, Kora was similarly out of her depths in the slums and kept her cowl over her head, speaking few words.

After asking a relatively clean-looking man, they were directed to take a sharp left, three rights, walk forward for 200 metres, then another right. Once there, Orion gained a greater promise of safety as he recognised the dreary red door scratched of its paint. He tapped on the door. Seconds later, Kora pushed him aside and rapped on it. This time, a series of footsteps followed, then the metal flap creaked ajar, two weary eyes looking through.

“Who’s you?” a gruff voice asked.

“Jax. Uhh, Thimble’s friend,”

“And what you doin’ ‘ere?”

“He said to find you if I needed to contact him,”

Orion heard a humph from the other side as the door swung open. He was met with the sight of a portly man with frizzled white hair, a large, dotted nose, and beady eyes.

“That boy, always makin’ trouble for me, he is,” Old Joe mumbled as he let them in.

His house was cosy, if cheaply decorated. Pungent smells of burnt food and melted metal filled the air, despite neither of those being in sight. There were large packages wrapped in cloth facing his metre-long window in the living room, warming under the sunlight and smelling of sea salt. And of nuts. And honey…

Orion put a hand to his mouth while sitting on the padded bench, forcing his mind away from the packages.

“Lucky for you, he’ll be comin’ soon. He’s just makin’ a trip for me now,” Old Joe explained while relaxing into his armchair.

“Oh, where’re me manners?” he suddenly said, pushing himself back up. “Why don’t you come and see me wares. Might find a thing you like,”

He crossed his living room and tugged on a thick rope, heaving open a hatch that camouflaged in with the wooden floorboards. Beckoning the Seekers, he climbed down and entered his workplace.

The underground hall was as big as his home and lit by glubber’s wax, the same long-lasting sort found on Hexham’s road at night.

There were various beakers and bottles to the left, emanating a smell of acid and burnt food. Near the middle were crates piled upon each other, around eight in total. And to their right was a metal platform with an anvil, forge, trough, and other blacksmithing equipment. There was also a pile of weapons on the platform, some blades clearly cracked.

“This is me playground. Don’t think about stealin’ none though since I’m protected by the Sticky Fingers.” Old Joe said.

“What are those?” Kora asked, pointing to the beakers.

“Mmm, the lady Asartit,” Old Joe replied, pouting his lips,” She came in me dreams. You know about them things the Seeker’s take, to change their bodies and that. She told me I could make them and that I should, that I would make it rich once I did,”

Both Orion and Kora raised their eyebrows at this. It was well known that once a Seeker became 5-star rated, they could drink elixirs that changed their bodies. These changes made it possible for them to overcome human limits and become monsters, although it was unknown whether that was a literal description or a figurative one.

Either way, this was why the Seeker’s guild had survived out of the hundreds in the past. If Old Joe could create potions even half, no, a quarter as effective, he would simultaneously become one of the richest and most hunted men in the Empire.

“Do they work?” Kora asked, her excitement slipping through.

“Argh, kinda. I tried them on a few kids, and they could like lift my chair one ‘anded.” He paused. “Then, they got smaller and thinner, like they leakin’ or something. Then, they died,”

“How much are they?” she asked.

Old Joe turned to her incredulously, then grinned at her serious face, revealing stained teeth. “Since you a mate's mate, I’ll give you two for a goldie,”

Kora gave him a gold coin and got two corked beakers in return. The liquid inside was multicoloured and looked slimy, like a mixture of soap and water.

“If these don’t work, I will hunt you,” she joked.

“Heh heh, don’t worry. They work, just you won’t be doing much in life afterwards. Heh heh. Interested in anymore?”

It was then a figure popped its head through the hatch.

“Lord Ma… I mean, Lord Jax. What yer doin’ ‘ere?” Thimble called out.

“About time, my boy. I’m too old to entertain your friends,” Old Joe said as he slipped the gold coin into his pocket. “Put your package in the sun, and take your friends out,”

Thimble nodded, and the two Seekers climbed out, figuring Old Joe wanted privacy. They left his home and walked onto the dirty streets.

“So, what do yer need, Lord Jax? I can do anything,”

“We would like to meet Rats,” Orion replied.

The bounce died from Thimble’s steps and he stopped, looking at them gravely. “Nothing good comes from meetin’ Rats,”

“But we want to,” Kora said.

The maroon-haired loudmouth looked into Kora’s eyes, then at her face, then at her figure, and his eyes lit up a little.

“There are ways, Lord Jax’s pretty friend. But really, yor bettah off without meetin’ ‘im.” He paused and looked up. “Oh, this is one of yor Seeker jobs, ain’t it?”

Kora snapped forward and thrust him up by his neck, pushing him against a concrete wall. “Explain!”

He heaved for breath and lifted his hands up in a gesture of helplessness. “Sorri, pretty lady, yer can’t scare me more than Lord Jax,”

She frowned at Orion, then put Thimble down. “Explain!”

“Na worries. Since Lord Jax helped me, I’ll help you. Do you know about the Underkings?”

Both Seekers shook their heads.

“They’re the four bosses ‘ere. They’re at each other’s throats all the time, but a few days ago, Rats called a celebration for something an’ invited everyone, includin’ the other Underkings. It’s a week from today an’ everyones buzzin’ about it,”

“So, what does that have to do with a Seeker’s job?” Orion asked. If this information was already public, then attempting to infiltrate Rats’s inner circle was suicide.

“Well, I know yor a Seeker, an’ everyone knows Rats is nasty, the nastiest of the four. Yet he’s doin’ this, which is weird. I just guessed yer interested in why he’s actin’ weird,” Thimble explained.

“I can help yer get in there, but yer’ll have to help me too,” he finished.

“How?”

“My bro, he runs the Sticky Fingers. He’s got an invite to Rats’s pavilion, an’ he’s allowed to take a few people with ‘im. We recently got in a brawl with the Saltrocks, so if yer help us with that, he’ll let yer join ‘im,”

“Oh,” Orion said as he took his bag off. He rummaged in it and found his finger-to-wrist length knife. “Give me your hand,”

Thimble gazed at him confused, then gulped and placed his hand forward.

Orion nicked Thimble’s skin, then chanted at the leaking blood, his eyes black as he used magic without Giah. He wiped the Blood tracker onto his finger and licked it, monetarily using his Giah to pale his eyes for dramatic effect.

It worked as Thimble began to tremble.

“You know how it goes,” Orion said in a deep voice, “Tell anyone we’re Seekers on a job, and I’ll know you did it and where you are. Following that, you can count how many seconds it’ll take me to kill you. I swear you won’t reach a minute,”

The maroon-haired loudmouth nodded several times. Kora looked on passively but was inwardly impressed by this side of Orion. Not that she’d admit it, though.

“But tell no one,” Orion continued, “and I’ll wipe it away once our job’s done. And, we’ll pay you three golds, just for guiding us and keeping your mouth shut. And you know I pay generously,”

Hook, line, and sinker. Thimble swallowed the bait and nervously grinned, his lips curling from joy and greed.

“Go on, lead us to your brother,”