The bright and lively atmosphere of the exposition hall contrasted with the dark and somewhat eerie feeling of the stairway that had let to it. I didn’t even have the time to stop and wonder why no one had bothered to check my ID, or invitation, as Gerard offered his elbow to me, before pulling into the exposition hall proper.

It was truly a sight to behold. The room was the size of a shipment container, with all its walls covered in green ivy. In the centre of it all, a bush, or hill, of colourful tulips, three or four times larger than they should have been, stood upright, saluting a similar arrangement of flowers that fell from the ceiling like stalactites.

Laura Emilie Geneviève Dubois de la Sablonnière

S

The appearance of the notification window snapped me back to reality, making me stop staring in awe at this room. The notification screen, however, did not fade away, instead becoming smaller, and even more transparent than it was, before placing itself above my head. I tried to follow it with my eyes, but as I tilted my head back, the name tag moved backwards as well.

“Admiring the ceiling?” Gegard joked.

He had a very similar small notification screen above his own head, but it did not display any information I did not already know.

“Can’t say I’ve ever been in a room full of ivy before.” I replied, not mentioning the fact that I was actually trying to figure out this name tag situation.

“Yes, it is quite brilliant, isn’t it? Each leaf is actually made out of different types of monster guts. Madame Pendu has done a similar thing in her first exposition in New York, the one from 47, not the 43 one, but after the controversy which you must be well aware of, she has redesigned it into this milder and more portable version.”

“I’m sorry-” I raised a finger, as the words ‘monster guts’ kept spinning around in my mind.

But I couldn’t force my words of confusion and disgust out without risking outing myself. Instead, I directed my eyes to the leaves I had been walking on. For a brief moment, I wondered if Gerard had been pulling my leg, as these leaves looked just like, well, leaves, but I couldn’t think of a reason why he’d do it.

“Ah!” Gerard exclaimed, “But there she is, our hostess. Should we go greet her? Then I must introduce you to Claire Lazare. And Marcus Fezlo, I saw him sneak by when we came in. Come.”

I looked back up, trying to figure out where Gerard wanted us to head; when I saw her. Although I still held many questions, about this place, the people here, the reason for my presence, and perhaps even more importantly as to the location of all this art I was supposed to be seeing, there was one thing I knew for sure. The hostess of this event, Madame Pendu, could not have been anyone other than the woman I was looking at.

She wore a form-fitting dress with a sweetheart neckline and a skirt that flared like a mermaid’s tail. The dress seemed to be made out of thousands of flower petals in various shades of green, yellow and white. As she moved, the tail of her dress blended so perfectly with the leafy floor that it made her look like a goddess emerging from nature itself. Her silver hair was tied in two messy braids that wrapped around her head and held together with a dozen golden bee-shaped pins. She wore slightly, and evidentially purposefully, mismatched green eyeshadow over her wrinkled eyes.

By the time I had finished admiring her with that almost childlike wonder I typically reserved for cute kittens and nice clothes, she and Gerard had met halfway, by the tulips, and were shaking hands.

“Good evening.” I greeted, as I approached them.

Dragon Eye

A

Sorcerer

Maker

Metamorph [Ac]

Shift (human, drake) [Ac]

Hand of Hephaesos [Ac]

Guidance of Hestia [Pa]

Hand of Hephaesos [Ac]

I paused, ever so slightly taken aback by the fact that this woman could transform into a dragon. But, not wanting to sound rude, or expose the fact that I could see her skills, I continued:

“I must say, this is truly splendid.”

Madame Pendu smiled. Or rather, the corners of her mouth and her eyes twitched ever so slightly upwards.

“And I must say, you seem to have better taste in bio-sculptures than your sister.”

“Yes, Chloe was a bit of a bore in that regard, although still delightful company.” Gerard added.

“Yes.” Madame Pendu spoke again. “Although I would argue that any of their linage is good company for you, my dearest Gerard. Has he told why he cannot be seen at any of my events, or art auctions in general for that matter, without an escort from your family?”

“He has not.” I gently shook my head.

“Well perhaps I shall do it in his stead… But not tonight, there are too many indiscreet ears around.”

Madame Pendu then did something akin to a wink in Gerard’s direction, before excusing herself to greet other guests. Once she was gone, I gave Gerard a questioning look, having only become more confused than before.

“Well, let us head that way first, if you don’t mind. I believe that is the sculpture gallery. Paintings should be down that way, if you wish to explore later on. I would assume they are more of an interest to you. Although I have heard that painters often take inspiration from other forms of art, so perhaps you might find your muse in the most unexpected place.”

I held back a resigned sigh and followed Gerard down one of the four corridors branching off this ivy-covered room.

“ – hence why, this piece lies at the perfect intersection between modern and post-war surrealism, as it represents the loss of magical power, but gain of a capital ‘P’ power. Do you reckon it would look good in my guest bedroom? Perhaps mounted on the wall opposite the window, so on the right-hand side of the bed…”

“I don’t think so.” I dryly replied as I sipped from my glass of champagne.

I was regretting not grabbing more to drink at the buffet. But we had left it almost forty minutes ago and had covered half a dozen rooms since, and with as boring as Gerard was, the promise of another buffet further down the gallery was the only thing that kept me going.

“Perhaps in my living room then? As an alternative coffee table stand? What do you think?”

I shook my head. I doubted that this half-melted spaghetti-monster-looking thing would fit into anyone’s living room, and I could not, for the life of me, figure out why Gerard had become obsessed with this piece in particular over at least seven almost identical sculptures that were present in this room.

Somewhere amongst his endless monologues, I did however notice that there were more and more people walking about. When we had first arrived, we had been the only people in the sculpture wing, not counting that elderly trio we crossed paths with in the acoustic metalwork room. But now, small groups and handfuls of isolated individuals were passing us by, heading deeper into the sculpture wing, no doubt towards a more interesting part of the exposition.

“You’re right, you’re right.” Gerard continued his monologue. “It wouldn’t match my flooring. In addition to that, I do, unfortunately, already own a one-of-a-kind, custom-made coffee table. But – I have always wanted to own one of Amelia’s pieces, and this one is just so – cosy and lovely. And when you look closer, you can begin seeing all the details unravel. Say, how about I buy it for you? I would legally own it, but you will be the one to proudly display this brilliant work in your house.”

I silently downed my glass of champagne, ignoring the question. I knew it was rhetorical, as he’d asked me that twice already, once with a beautiful lamp pole whose sole flaw was the fact that it was carved out of sea-serpent bone and another time with a decent-looking 5-meter tall statue of some long-dead hero.

“Oh, maybe if the swimming pool-”

“Gerard, is that you?” A voice called out from the hallway that led to the buffet.

I turned my head, grateful for the distraction, only to be greeted with a System Window.

Dragon Eye

A-

Brawler

Ghostfist Boxer

Iron punch [Pa]

Fravashi’s guidance [Ac]

Deadbeast lance [Ac]

Stheno's touch [Pa]

Language Comprehension [Pa]

As soon as the blue screen vanished, I was faced with a tall and slim person, about twice my age, and in a very business-like attire. Their most distinguishing trait other than the words ‘Qinnuajuaq Ige Pinto’ written over their head, was their moustache that looked like it was stolen from a cartoon villain.

“Quinnie!” Gerard exclaimed. “I thought you’d be too busy with the newest book for that woman, what was her name again? Either way, it’s great that you’re taking time off from work, let me introduce you to Vincent’s youngest. Laura. She’s a brilliant painter, perhaps one day you will be editing a book written over her achievements in the art world.”

“Pleasure.”

Gerard’s friend with an unpronounceable name extended their hand for me to shake.

“- all mine.” I politely replied.

“Say, do you reckon this would look good in my guest bedroom, the one furthest from the stairway on the second floor?”

“I’m not too sure to be honest. Perhaps in your living room?”

“Yes, that’s what I was thinking too…”

“If you’ll excuse me.” I quickly bid them farewell and used this chance to slip away from Gerard.

He wasn’t a bad man by any means, but Lords was he boring. Plus, my job was technically done for the remained of the evening, so I could grab myself another glass of champagne, and maybe even socialise a little.