A roving human net of sales associates catches me before I’ve taken half a dozen steps into the auction house. Once more I’m accosted by a smiling assistant, although her expression doesn’t look as fake as the snake oil salesman back at the Menders. The woman who intercepts me guides me with confident steps, not looking back to see if I’m following her toward one of the many empty desks set up in the lobby.

Unlike Sturgi, the young man trying to sell me on an expensive prosthetic, she’s not relying on any Skills to make herself seem more trustworthy or reliable, but that only makes me more wary. I’m certain she has them, which means for now her influencing Skills are hidden away. A snake in the grass?

“Welcome to the Orpheus House! What does your heart desire today?”

I look down my nose at her, acting like I’m the servant of a wealthy family. “I’m looking for a pair of matched vases. Glass work. Perhaps waist-high. Dark with golden veins if possible. Preferably with soothing properties suitable for a young lady’s garden so that she can relax and set aside the cares of the world.”

“Obsidian, or actual glass?” the young woman replies, pausing briefly from writing down my requirements on a small notepad.

“Glass is fine,” I say, making it sound like a small concession. “The imbuements are not negotiable, however.”

“Very well. I believe we have a few items that are close to your request, but I will most likely have to put in a request with our acquisitions department. We do not have many imbued items up for general sale at present. Most of those are earmarked for our auctions.”

“Naturally. This is a mercantile endeavor,” I reply stiffly. My tone leaves no doubt how I feel about that declaration.

Professionalism at the Orpheus is a tier above the Menders when it comes to making a sale, however. The woman gives no indication of offense, simply nodding along. “May I have an address? I’ll send a message as soon as we acquire a suitable set of items.”

“No. I will check back periodically. My client values privacy,” I say, frowning as severely as I can to get the point across..

“Of course. Discretion is a guiding principle at the Orpheus—no doubt why you chose us in the first place. May I interest you in any other transaction today, or will that be all?”

I make a show of stroking my jaw, as though I’m deep in thought. “If you have a list of imbued items that I could present to my client, perhaps that would be suitable?”

“It would be my pleasure to provide a list! Glass items, like the vases, or do you prefer a different medium?”

“Let’s start with glass. Do you have any on display that I could review while I’m here?” I ask, trying to hide my excitement. I thought it would be difficult to get a comprehensive list from the auction house, but things are going my way for once. Perhaps they won’t include prices, however, which will mean I still have to do some detective work. Maybe I’ll ask Rakesh for help.

“Right this way, sir.”

I follow after the young woman, periodically checking to see if I’m under the influence of any Skills or unwanted intrusions. So far, it seems that things are as they appear at the Orpheus House, but I can never be too sure after my encounter with Sturgi. He left a bad taste in my mouth, and I’m not keen on repeating the experience.

Stupid Menders, acting like they own the city, I think as we walk. You can’t just trample over people like that because you’re the biggest bully in town. It’s not right.

“Our glassware is on the second floor,” the sales associate explains, leading me up a grand marble staircase that curves around an enormous display room below.

Rows of booths with items ranging from furniture to weaponry to books to exotic animals stretch out for at least two hundred paces in each direction. I try to keep a running tally of all the items I see, but I can’t imagine how much wealth is flowing through this place on a daily basis. Their regular operational expenses would beggar Silaraon, I suspect.

Scattered all across the display floor are tiny beacons of mana. Masterwork items blaze in my senses, almost overwhelming in its density and quality. Enchantments abound, clearly more abundant than imbuements. That means I might have a chance to sell as many pieces as I can create, since there’s clearly market scarcity for the items I can make.

Greed glitters in my heart.

Lost in my thoughts of fame and fortune, I don’t notice an encircling group of guards until it’s too late. Surrounding me are well-armed and armored men, each bearing a wand. They lift the wands in unison, and a barrier in the shape of the crest of the Orpheus House springs up over us. Mana pours from the wands in a flood, empowering the small barrier until it’s probably more powerful than the one over Natan, though much smaller in scope.

Just like that, I’ve been trapped.

There’s no breaking the barrier easily with my [Arcane Domain], not unless I’m willing to commit to an all-out war in the middle of the auction house afterward. With so many innocent bystanders around, I make the choice to play things safe. I stand still, smiling and trying to look non-threatening.

A thin man with silvery hair and a refined smile steps through the barrier. He nods at the young woman by my side. “Thank you for bringing me the interloper. Dismissed.”

She curtsies and departs, seemingly unperturbed by the developments. I track her mana signature in my Domain’s passive senses. Sure enough, she returns to work at the front of the auction house without any emotional fluctuation, as though this is a common occurrence.

“Good day, young man. My name is Tener Ras. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Tener Ras holds out his hand in greeting. He smiles warmly when I respond to his shake, and it seems surprisingly genuine. “I’m with our acquisitions team. If you wanted a meeting so badly, it’s generally not hard to find us.”

“You seem to be working with more information than I am,” I say after some deliberation. “I’m afraid that I don’t know what you mean.”

“Come now, don’t play coy. An illustrious auction house like the Orpheus has ways to detect buyers and sellers. You, sir, are not yet a buyer, but you are most certainly a seller. Shall we dispense with sophistry and get to business?”

“While I’m surrounded? I don’t intend to negotiate from a position of desperation,” I say as lightly as I can, trying to match Ras in tone.

“Apologies. We had to be sure that you wouldn’t try anything unexpected. Damaging the wares is frowned upon by the big bosses, as I’m sure you understand.”

“Perfectly,” I reply, filing away a different tidbit of information: Tener Ras is not one of the big bosses, no matter how self-assured. If I don’t like the deal, I can appeal over his head.

The guards deactivate the barrier and step away, although I notice that they don’t retreat entirely. Instead, they make a point to flank us as Tener Ras guides me to an opulent office, and they take up position outside the door while we enter on our own.

“May I assume that you’re a [Glass Smith]?” Tener Ras asks as we take our seats. He slides a tray across the desk toward me, lifting an enchanted teapot and pouring out an amber stream of tea that’s perfectly steeped and held at the right temperature.

I take a moment to study the room before responding. It’s less cluttered with stuff than I’d have assumed. Bookshelves filled with rare tomes line one wall, but otherwise don’t dominate the space. An oil chiaroscuro painting takes up another wall. It’s a masterful scene, but it’s not what impresses me about the office. Everything is in its place, from the decoration to the angle of the furniture—itself made from fragrant sandalwood—and it works together to elevate the experience beyond any room I’ve been in before, apart from visiting the Viceroy.

“Close enough. I am a Master, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m impressed that your Skills picked that up without me noticing; I’m usually quite sensitive to interference.”

For the first time, Tenver smirks. Up until now he’s been relaxed and understated, but he can’t seem to help himself when gloating is on the line. “Not a Skill. A curious enchantment that covers the entranceway. You won’t feel it because the results are displayed in a matching room on the other side of town. If you pass the threshold of interest for a potential buyer or seller, then I receive a message.”

“Clever,” I say, impressed despite myself. If the enchantment is sophisticated enough, and the mana cost is paid elsewhere, then I’ll never notice. It only has to be sensitive enough to pick up my intentions. Of course, now that I know about it, I’m confident that I can come up with a way around it.

“Let’s hear it, then,” Tener Ras says, leaning forward across the desk eagerly. He sips his tea and regards me with a shrewd expression. “What’s your counter-measure?”

“Ha! Nothing is free. Fitting.”

He nods fractionally. “We understand one another. If you’re truly worth as much as the alarm indicated, then you’ll come up with a novel way to nullify the enchantment. That is the price of doing business with us. Well? I’m all ears.”

This is it. The real test to see if the Orpheus House will buy my glass. Any hesitation or false claims, and they’ll be all over me like sharks drawn to blood in the water.

“Do you want the theory first, or the demonstration?” I ask, holding the teacup under my nose and swirling it in slow circles while I inhale the steam. I close my eyes, savoring the aroma of the complex blend. Most high-end drinks seem to tout their purity—they’re all brewed from a single tree, or harvested in a difficult-to-reach place with unique environmental properties.

This is different, clearly combining multiple strains of tea to create a curated experience that carries with a tinge of a higher-order concept, of all things. I sense a hint of innovation, and my eyes widen as I add a new concept to my growing list. If I can learn to replicate this, then I’ll be able to imbue it.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“I’d like to take some of this tea with me if we strike a deal,” I say slowly. “I’m not cunning with my negotiations, as I’m sure you’ve noticed by now. Simply tell me what you think is fair in exchange for it, and I’ll ensure that it’s delivered.”

“The tea?” Tener Ras says in surprise. Genuine confusion clouds his expression, and he pulls a hard packed disk of dried tea out of his desk drawer and gives it to me without a second thought. “Done. Now, your suggestions?

He doesn’t know! Then how did he end up with it in his office? There’s no way that it’s by accident. If someone put it there, then that’s an exploitable detail. Think, Nuri! Think.

I smile. “Thank you. It’s pleasant.”

“You’re welcome to it. I’m only interested in hearing your plan to get past the detection script embedded beneath the front door of the Orpheus.”

“Go in a side door instead of the front,” I say immediately, laughing. When I see that he’s not amused, I sigh and drain the cup. The effect is subtle, but noticeable, as my thoughts flow more easily than before, eager to trace out connections I hadn’t considered previously. I stare at the teapot in longing. I need more of that tea.

I set down the cup and cough a few times to buy time as I arrange my thoughts. “More seriously, there are multiple ways to get around any defenses. As for how I’d counteract that enchantment? Hm. The real question is whether or not you want to tip off the people monitoring it across town. If I don’t care about making some sort of scene, then simply flooding the script with a concentrated burst of mana that exceeds the density it’s designed to hold should overwhelm the sensors, albeit temporarily. That will create an enormous amount of feedback, however, and may be interpreted as an attack.”

I lean back, tilting my head until I’m looking up at the ceiling, and ask myself how much I want to reveal. I haven’t met anyone else with a Domain, although I’m confident that [Viceroy] Tapirs has one, since he’s the highest-ranking [Mage] in Densmore—and possibly the entire world. Will Tener Ras know what I mean if I share that detail? I’d prefer to keep it secret as long as possible, just in case it leads to complications.

Tener Ras clears his throat politely. “And if you want to be undetected? I’m curious what kind of approach you’d take for that scenario.”

I sit up and sigh. “I’d send someone as my proxy. Now, please don’t look so disgruntled. It’s the safest method. You want a magical solution, but the most foolproof option is to bypass it entirely.”

“It is,” Tener Ras allows, speaking slowly, but he doesn’t keep the disappointment out of his voice. “Smart, but safe. Not quite what we’re looking for.”

“I suspect your boss will disagree,” I say, pouring myself a second cup of tea. “I’ll wait here while you set up the meeting.”

“Unfortunately, I believe your time is up. You’re clearly talented, but too pragmatic for our requirements,” Tener Ras says, sighing dramatically as though it’s out of his hands.

I smile as pleasantly as I can. “Unfortunate, indeed. But I’m not addressing myself to you right now. Let’s please drop pretenses; now that I know what to look for, I can sense the monitor in this office. It’s time I speak with the person on the other end.”

Before Tener Ras can reply to my bold claim, a soft chime sounds from behind his large, well-appointed desk. A pale light illuminates his face, which is rapidly draining of blood.

“Of-of course! At once, sir.”

He scurries off, all decorum forgotten in his rush to follow my request. I almost feel bad, but if it gets me a meeting with the real movers and shakers behind the Orpheus, then I’ll take that as a win.

Now to get to my real sales pitch. I’ll need to consider my words carefully; anyone who knows the value of higher-order concepts is not to be treated lightly. I don’t want to advertise my Domain, preferring to keep it as my hidden ace, but it’s even more important that I come out of this visit with a steady source of income.

Forewarned that Gilead would be expensive, I’ve been desperate to make money on the trip here. Yet the small fortune we’ve heaped up is a pittance compared with the price of a single prosthetic from the Menders. There’s no way that I can afford to repair my core and channels if that’s what they charge for a carved hand with some clever enchantments layered on it.

Five minutes later, Tener Ras is back, smiling once more as he ushers a middle-aged woman into the office. Her face is soft and unblemished by time, but her hair is snow-white, and her mana signature feels vast and robust in a way that is impossible to fake apart from reaching the Second Threshold. I don’t know if she’s the main boss behind the Orpheus House, but if not, I suspect that she’s highly placed within their ranks. Perhaps a senior partner.

“My, my. You’re younger than I anticipated for such a talented troublemaker!” she says, extending her bejeweled hand in greeting.

I stand and take her outstretched hand, bowing over it in greeting. “I must apologize for causing problems. I’m far from home and rather unfamiliar with your customs. I’d be happy to work through the proper channels going forward.”

“How modest.”

I glance over at Tener Ras. “Thank you for your promptness. You may take half of one percent of my commission as a bonus.”

“Too generous, young man!” his boss says, shaking her head. She languidly gestures toward the door. “You’re dismissed, little Ras. Go tell your uncle that your fortunes are moving up in the world, entirely by accident.”

Tener Ras flushes. He bows stiffly in my direction, then much deeper toward the boss, who I notice has pointedly withheld her name. He departs, closing the door behind him, leaving me to negotiate in peace.

The woman smiles after him as he leaves, regarding the man with the same fondness I’d expect to see from a grandmother cooing over an infant. Just how advanced is she, if she’s that much older than he is? I recall how [Viceroy] Tapirs looked, with his age preserved, and gulp.

She sighs graciously. “He’s a good boy. A little over-eager, but his heart’s in the right place.”

“I hope you don’t mind that he gave me that packet of tea,” I say with a chuckle. “I doubt he realizes just how valuable it is.”

“Our test would be less useful if he knew. Tenner Ras is lacking artifice, however. If he knew every secret of this place, they wouldn’t be secrets for long. Still, he’s a hard worker and he loves his job. Never look down on people like that. They’re the glue that holds any endeavor together, young glassmaker.”

“Nuri,” I offer, although part of me is tempted to call myself Zebulun and fall back on my old hidden identity. I discard that idea almost immediately. It’s fun to pretend, but I’m not cut out for cloak and dagger work, despite my informal induction into the [Inquisitors].

“Well met, Nuri.” The woman pours her own cup of tea, likewise savoring the warmth on her tongue. She sits in Tener Ras’s seat. “Exquisite, isn’t it? How did you gain familiarity with the concept you ingested? That’s a story I’d like to hear.”

“I learned it just now,” I say. Though words are an admission, they’re also a test of my own to see how my new acquaintance—new boss?—will react. I’m not likely to develop a good working dynamic with someone who reacts poorly to the realization that I’m less valuable than she initially thought.

Her body grows still. Only her large, silver eyes blink at me. Then she downs the cup. “Intriguing. Yet you recognized it straightaway.”

“Yes,” I say, trying not to sound too arrogant. “I am not unacquainted with higher-order concepts, if that’s what you’re getting at. I will add this one to my arsenal shortly.”

“Your arsenal, implying multiple concepts?”

I wince internally. Should I have given away so much? I sip at the tea and crinkle up my eyes in a half smile, deciding that I might as well appear as strong as possible. Perhaps she’ll be more intrigued that way.

“My! So confident. How would you apply this to glass? I’m not sure it fits with a platter or a window, quite frankly.”

“That manner of thinking is quite limited, if you’ll pardon my boldness. Innovation is not the purview of the privileged few. Looking through a window and seeing the view beyond it with fresh eyes is equally as valid as a wine glass for an artist.”

My mind strays back to the gentleman I accosted on the streets earlier. I have very little practice grinding lenses or working on optical formulae, outside of my feeble attempt at creating a microscope, but a single lens in a monocle is probably doable.

“How about a classic monocle imbued with innovation? Could be useful for a variety of roles and Classes,” I suggest, gauging the reaction I get.

“Hm. I imagine that will sell. But aren’t you putting the cart before the horse? You have yet to prove that your wares live up to your big words. I’ve heard a lot of claims, but nothing to show the substance behind them.”

I reach over and grab a small, manicured tree that’s in a pot at the edge of the desk. “Do you mind if I displace this poor sculpted tree?”

Her lips curve up in a predatorial grin. “Do as you please. Little Ras might be sad, but it’s the cost of doing business. We’ll add it to your tab; you have expensive tastes so far.”

If that’s supposed to be a threat, then I’m unimpressed. I’m certain that I can make the Orpheus House money hand over fist. Concentrating on my work, I run [Vitrification] through the dirt, ceramic, and living wood of the tree, transforming the small pot into a solid batch of glass. Mere seconds later, thanks to my first and most reliable Skill, it’s a melted ball in my hand as I shape it with my bare fingers. I wish I could leverage my Domain to crudely replicate Melina’s [Object Manipulation], but I don’t want to give up all of my secrets just yet.

I split the glass into two batches, leaving half on the desk. I ensure that the heat doesn’t warp the wood, layering my [Greater Heat Manipulation] to provide a cold plate for it to sit on while its internal temperature keeps it hot and malleable. I go for tried and true methods, calling back to sharpness as I create a glittering, curved knife that looks like a talon with a ring at the end of it.

I set it aside, manually annealing it while I work on the second gather. For this glass, I choose to mold it into a circlet, simple and unadorned other than twisting the glass a dozen times before flattening it out. I create a simple framework for the mana of the world, imbuing it with cooling properties. I don’t want to reveal my glass cores yet—I can sell them for more, once I establish my worth—and I’m not interested in making shields or anything with the concept of unbreakable. Not yet. I don’t want them getting into the wrong hands, and after the last several stops, I’m not sure I trust many people anymore.

Less than ten minutes later, I slide the finished pieces closer, content that they’re cool enough they won’t malform while she studies them. “There. I’d recommend you don’t touch, but they’re done otherwise. Do you have any kilns on site? I’d rather not anneal these by hand over the next several hours while we negotiate.”

“I see that we’ll have to update the accuracy on our enchantments,” the Orpheus boss says, a wry smile on her lips. “Sharpness, unless I miss my mark. But the second one is not familiar to me.”

I nod. “Got the knife in one. As for the circlet? The wearer of this little helm will never get hot. Er, well, I’d still advise against swimming in a volcano. But a stroll through the Barrens is an easy thing with this circlet, even when the sun is at its zenith.”

“Noted.” She jots down the notes in empty air in front of her, writing with a condensed mana pen. Ezio and Tem both shared that trick, but I haven’t figured out the hang of it yet. It’s more than mana manipulation for her, though; I noticed a Skill activating in conjunction with her writing. Maybe she upgraded to a [Merchant] from some version of [Scribe]?

“What’s the range on your missives?” I ask, guessing the purpose of the Skill based on the brief glimmer of runes I noticed while Viewing.

“State secret,” she replies, her delighted smile audible in her voice. “An assistant should arrive any moment to take the pieces to our kiln. How did you know we had one?”

I shrug. “Seems prudent to be able to produce pieces here, or perform repairs.”

“Where is your studio, Nuri?”

I consider how much of the truth I should share, then shrug. An outfit like the Orpheus House isn’t short on funds. They’ll track down information on me, like it or not. Telling them who I am now could garner goodwill. A gesture of trust might pay off down the road.

“I’m from the borderlands. I’ve studied glass under masters all across Densmore—Grand Ile, the Capital—but I don’t have a studio in Gilead yet. Could you add studio time to my tab? My team is looking for space now, but we’re not likely to find more accommodating facilities than what you have here. I’m willing to pay extra for discretion.”

A knock announces the arrival of a pair of assistants. They transfer my glass items to a small insulated box that will keep the glass at a steady temperature until they can transfer them to the kiln. Once they leave, the Orpheus boss stands up and extends her hand.

“Studio time should be easy to arrange. You may call me Ozana. Welcome to the team, Master Nuri.”