At first, Cal had considered going to the sales agent on Firecaster Row before visiting the auctioneer, but on second thought he decided that the auctioneer would be a better place to start.

There were two reasons behind that choice. The first was simply time; it was getting late, and he thought he’d be unlikely to find the sales agent’s shop still open. Even if they were open, they probably wouldn’t welcome a visitor who had no business except a bunch of questions at the end of a busy day.

The second reason was that sales agents were much more likely to be wary of confidentiality. Even at the best of times, Cal was unlikely to be able to get them talking without some kind of introduction.

The auctioneer, on the other hand, was a cheerful, garrulous fellow. The time when Cal had initially bought his shop was not the first time he’d met Randall the auctioneer – Cal had been to other auctions there before – but it was the time they’d had the most interaction. During the auction for the shop, Cal had been struck by the auctioneer’s sympathetic manner. The man had seemed genuinely pleased when Cal had managed to purchase the property.

Also, of course there was the simple fact that the auctioneer’s business was generally done at night, and where the sales agent was likely to be closing shop, the auctioneer was likely just to be opening.

Cal took a cab back from Blue Mile. Though the wyvern cabs were the most numerous, there were, of course, other kinds of transport available in Jutlyn. Horses were still used to pull the carriages of the nobility, and particularly of those who made a point of showing off their distaste for magic. But there were still a few horse carts around that could be hired as cabs, though they were increasingly unusual as the wyvern guild grew to dominate the trade. Still, it was an old horse-drawn cab that rolled slowly past Cal before he reached the wyvern rank, so he flagged it down rather than waiting.

The driver was a grumpy old man with a red nose, a nasty look in his eye, and a very disreputable overcoat. He did not seem inclined to conversation, and that suited Cal just fine. From the looks of the well-read newspaper that the driver had on the seat beside him, the burden of the man’s conversation would have been the same as that of the wyvern on the way out - the Winter King and the threat in Helk.

Cal had no desire to talk about that anymore. It was certainly interesting, and maybe in time it would become more of a pressing matter than it was at the moment, but for now Cal did not want to gossip about news from distant parts, and he was glad that his driver made no attempt at conversation.

The cab itself was a boxy contraption on two wheels pulled by a single large black horse. The driver sat up on top of the box, but Cal got inside and made himself as comfortable as he could in the dank, smelly interior of the cab. The seat was damp, the walls were greasy, and the floor under Cal’s boots was sticky, but even though the conditions were foul, Cal didn’t care. He wanted to sit quietly, think things over, and let the day’s events sink in.

The driver urged the horse forward to a good clip, and they were off.

Cal didn’t get much time for thought. The horse-drawn cab was fast, and it felt like hardly any time at all had passed before they found themselves in Blinkset Street. Still, as Cal hopped from the step into the street he felt refreshed. Cal smiled up at the driver, who barked the fare and glared as if Cal was something that the driver might want to scrape from a shoe before going indoors.

Cal was surprised to find that the grumpy driver hardly charged anything for the ride, and despite the man’s surly demeanor and his disgusting cab, Cal felt inclined to tip the man. After all, they had made very good speed and the man had left Cal alone when he wanted to be left alone, and that second point was rare among cab drivers.

At the sight of the gold coin that Cal had given him, the driver’s attitude changed completely, and he became much more pleasant.

“Oh, thanks very much!” the driver said, surprised and apparently moved by the unexpected largesse. “I don’t often get a tip, me. Don’t know why. Thanks, mate.”

“No problem,” Cal said, resisting the temptation to give the man some honest feedback about why he might not often get tips from his fares. “Have a good evening.”

“Unlikely,” the man replied, resuming his surly expression, “but thanks anyway.”

The driver hopped up onto his seat, wheeled his horse around in a maneuver which blocked the stream of traffic and precipitated a stream of angry shouts from other road users, and then rattled his cab off up the road at a dangerous pace.

Cal shook his head and smiled. Whatever else one might say about Jutlyn, there could be no denying that the city was a place full of strange and unexpected characters.

Cal wondered about the cab man. Of course, there were still some people who used horses to draw cabs for hire, but they were something of a novelty item, hired for special occasions, and always in much better condition than this one. On reflection Cal realized just how rare it was to randomly come across a horse drawn cab for hire on the street, particularly one so grimy and so cheap.

He’d been too wrapped up in his own ideas about the future when the cab had first appeared to give it much thought, but now the whole incident of the cab struck him as very unusual.

“Ah well, stranger things have happened, I suppose,” Cal muttered to himself, “and probably will again. Let’s go and see this auctioneer.”

The cab had dropped Cal at the corner of Blinkset Street and Elm Street. Here, the roads were wide and the buildings were two or three stories high, built from huge blocks of light gray granite that was somewhat unusual in Jutlyn. On the opposite side of the road from the entrance to Blinkset Street, the sprawling expanse of Mullinor’s Park was already glowing in the light of lamps that lit up like fireflies as Cal watched.

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In summer, Mullinor’s Park was a beautiful place to spend time, rich with ancient trees and bright flowers, and centered around a network of linked ponds where all kinds of birds lived. In the winter, it was a bleaker prospect, and the bare trees stood sentinel over the frozen ponds and empty flower beds, awaiting the changing of the seasons.

Still, even in winter the park was a quiet and peaceful place, big enough that one could escape the noise and bustle of the city. The park was kept well-lit by spirit lamps all night long, and even in winter many people used the park for recreation and as a thoroughfare to quickly cut through and reach different parts of town.

The streetlamps were coming on around Cal. As the last of the afternoon disappeared under the veil of another pleasant Jutlyn evening, Cal turned the corner and headed down Blinkset Street toward Randall’s auction house, bathed in the warm light of spirit lamps.

He breathed deep, enjoying the smell of the air and struck once again by just how quickly the weather seemed to be changing. It felt like just moments ago that it had been howling a gale and snowing enough to satisfy the Winter King! Now the evening was, if not exactly warm, then at least not dangerously cold.

The sky was a very, very deep blue. A plump waxing moon hung over the roofs of the buildings, and a few stars gleamed like jewels in the blue blanket of the sky. Cal smiled, enjoying the sensation of the city around him relaxing into the evening. As he always did after winter, Cal felt a deep pleasure in being able to enjoy being outside without having to hurry through the cold, and there were plenty of others around him who were feeling the same.

Blinkset Street was one of a network of old streets right in the middle of the city’s bustling commercial heart. This was the area of town where goods were bought and sold at scale, but it was also the place where the wealthier citizens came to indulge exotic tastes and sample the latest imported delights from overseas.

During the day, Blinkset Street and its nearby neighbors were dominated by shops selling jewelry, watches, clothing made from the finest silks and furs, and by barrel merchants trading in the finest wines and spirits, or food shops selling only the most exquisite flavors and unusual treats.

As evening came on, the shops closed and the cafes, bars, and restaurants opened. The warm, welcoming light of spirit lamps flowed out into the street from cozy, inviting eateries, and the clink of crockery and the bustling sound of happy chatter flowed out with it. The smell of fine cuisine and expensive wines mingled with the exotic perfumes of the clientele. Politicians, society figures, important visitors, and wealthy merchants all mingled together in the discreet, genteel atmosphere of the city center, the monied classes of Jutlyn city taking their ease.

If one wanted to purchase practical, locally-sourced craftsmanship like Cal’s enchantments or Maddie’s fabrics at a reasonable price, then the area up near Sandweaver Street was the place to go. But for people on the hunt for high-end luxury goods during the day, or for an evening’s entertainment after hours, Blinkset Street and the area nearby was where they headed first.

Cal walked slowly down the middle of the street, enjoying the bustling atmosphere. The shops had closed and the cafes and restaurants were open, and the populace were out in force to take advantage of the nicer weather. Smartly dressed servers hurried back and forth between the tables and a hundred different dishes were already being sampled by refined palates.

The necks, wrists, hair, and fingers of the clientele of Blinkset Street all glittered with jewelry and their elegant forms shimmered in rich fabrics dyed with expensive colors. As he took in the spectacle of them, Cal wondered if it might not be too long before he’d see clothing made from the fabulous spider web on display in this most fashionable part of town.

Only if I can find a way of getting it to take color, he thought. If all of Maddie’s tricks of the trade haven't worked, then the only place I’m likely to see my fabric is in the sails of ships or as waterproof overcoats in the rain. Very practical, of course, and probably profitable, but nowhere near as prestigious.

He did not give the problem too much thought just now, however. He felt very mellow, enjoying the sights, and felt content to walk slowly down the street, He took in the scene, wandering down the street with his hands in his pockets, the fingers of his right hand moving idly back-and-forth across the slick, cool surface of the sample of marvelous spider web material that Maddie had given him to take away.

Randall’s auctioneer - or Blinkset Street Fine Goods and Property as it was correctly (though rarely) called - had pride of place at the far end of the busy, fashionable street. An auction was an event in Jutlyn, and there were many auction houses across the city. Some were perhaps of a higher class than Randall’s, and dealt in more exclusive goods, but no other auction house anywhere in Jutlyn could claim as prime a central spot as did Randall’s. It was one of the oldest and most respected auction houses in Jutlyn.

There was a theater not far away, and a concert hall where orchestras played every evening and twice on gods’ days, and here, right next to these prestigious venues, sat Randall’s, as much a place of entertainment and a Jutlyn institution as any of its neighbors.

Cal wandered up and found himself moving toward the auctioneer’s as part of a crowd who had evidently gathered to participate in the evening’s early sale. There were people of all kinds here waiting for the doors to open; humans and elves, dwarves and goblins, wraiths, trolls, orks, and many others besides. Everyone was excited but relaxed, chatting together and discussing the lots that were up for sale this evening, or comparing notes on the small, printed lists of items that they all seemed to be holding.

A tall man with what looked like a glimmering fairy twinkling on his shoulder was holding forth authoritatively on the different qualities of Mayernish glass, of which there seemed to be several examples on sale tonight. A gaggle of excited wraiths - smaller and faster than everybody else in the crowd - dashed about among the packed people, laughing and squealing and trying to catch each other’s ghostly robes as they whipped past. Several solemn looking people stood around silently, conspicuously alone amongst the thronging festival atmosphere of the crowd, eyeing each other suspiciously. These, Cal knew, were the servants and agents of wealthy bidders who had their eye on a particular piece but did not want to come down themselves. These people were where the real money lay. If they began bidding against each other, all the rest of the attendees would be well advised to back off.

Cal’s interest was piqued by the excited atmosphere of the crowd and he looked around to see if there were any price lists going spare, so that he could have a look at what was on offer.

There were none, however. People who were interested picked up price lists the day before so that they could have a look at the items on offer and see if they could afford the starting price. Some were on a special list and paid a fee to get early access to the price lists, jealously guarding their special knowledge and planning what they might be able to buy. Those who had price lists now were not in a hurry to give them up, and though they didn’t mind talking to their friends, no one was keen to share a price list with somebody they didn’t know.

And that was when Cal saw somebody that he did know.