8.

Days passed fast, and Silvah had spent the day of the auction in a hotel nearby. She was dressed for the occasion. Because of her sponsor, she’d chosen the only theme which was acceptable. Her black pantsuit was tailored, courtesy of Uncle Kenichi who pulled on a string. The jacket was fitted and gripped around her shoulder without it being restrictive. Underneath she wore a silk blouse. Also black, of course. And her shoes were polished, with minimal heel.

She checked her watch, the dark casing absorbing all light. Three hours left until it started. She fastened her hair in a tight topknot, piercing a dragon hair clip that had the words ‘Tao-kai’ on it through her bun to give it a little flair. Gotta represent.

Finally, she fastened her necklace. The chain was the colour of brass and interwoven between the metal were beads of different sizes and colours. At the bottom of her throat, the chain turned into a single strand that had only one bead at the end. A silver stone. Silvah wasn’t sure what the material was, since she’d never gotten around to asking her father, and she wouldn’t find out today. Time to go.

Her driver was waiting for her downstairs. Did she really need to mention what colour the vehicle was?

9.

‘You’re not on the list.’

Miles’s mouth formed an O. Damien facepalmed. They were standing in front of the auction house, being checked by the guards. He should’ve known that any evening with Miles was doomed to fail from the start.

‘What do you mean?!’ Miles put his hands on his face as if to hide from shame and pulled on his cheeks in a way that reminded Damien of those cartoons humans loved to watch. Miles procured a letter from his pocket. ‘Look! Entry for Shimura Miles and Damien Dwight.’

The guard in front of the Bai auction house at least lowered his eyes, as if he was checking the list again and moved his fingers over his phone screen.

‘You’re not on the list.’

‘Dammit! Damn Irene. She fooled me! I’ll make her pay for this.’ Miles stamped his foot on the floor. Repeatedly.

Another guard came over and asked them to leave.

Damien sighed once they were out of earshot.

‘Don’t mind, master. It’s not that big a deal.’

If the egg truly was at the auction, it wouldn’t do any harm. Most of the people here were at least aware of spirit energy, so they would be prepared to deal with the foul object. Even if it was listed as special-grade—

‘We’re teleporting in.’

Miles slung his arm over Damien’s shoulder, who quickly extracted himself. He looked around. Good. They were still outside.

‘No, we’re not,’ he said, dodging Miles’s swipe. All he needed to do was touch him. ‘That’s illegal. Think about this!’

‘I know. But we must absolutely get that item!’

He dove forward and Damien jumped over him.

‘Look,’ Damien said. ‘I know it’s a special-grade object. But they can—’

‘The stargazer thinks it’s from a primordial,’ Miles said.

Damien almost fell over his ankle. Primordial…

When he recovered. Damien practically held out his hand. But before Miles touched him, his teacher’s eyes were drawn to something else. A black sedan stopped in front of them and a woman they both recognised stepped out.

10.

‘We’re here.’

The one who spoke was a guard named Misha. An Ishwari from the furthest corner north of at least six-foot-five that was three times as wide as he was tall. His hair was a dark shade of brown, and he was young. Same age as her. But young did not mean incapable. Uncle was training him to be his right-hand man.

Misha opened her door, and she came face to face with the Bai Group auction house. Exotic. That was her first impression. It stood at the end of a cobblestone pathway after a slight rise of stairs starting just after the curb. The building was high, held up by pillars like you’d expect from a roman catholic church, with expansive glass windows and clean, straight lines, almost as if it had been built yesterday. The entrance was a pair of large, ornate door, carved with intricate design which told a story Silvah couldn’t quite read from where she was standing.

Her feet carried her forwards, entranced by the spectacle—

‘Yo!’

Two men were standing in front of her. Holy hell. She must’ve been out of it completely for her not to see them approach. At all.

‘That’s close enough,’ the second of Silvah’s guards, Simon, said.

Compared to the Ishwari, the middle-aged man looked positively normal. Black suit. Short-cropped hair. Nothing special. Except for the pistol in the front pocket of his coat which he was cradling. Given that Uncle had chosen him himself, he must know how to use it.

Misha took a position to her right, also putting a hand in his pocket.

Silvah looked over the two other men in front of her again, looking to see if they were Ryūjin-kai. She recognised one of them. No. She recognised both. She’d never seen the other one up close, but then there weren’t that many Qatani people in Yumekyo.

The one she had only seen from a distance was wearing a turtleneck which looked south Ishwari in design, with the material being so smooth (the south was known for its silk).

The guy Silvah had spoken to in front of the pawnshop was standing so deep in the shadow of the first, she almost thought he was hiding. He was wearing square-rimmed glasses, which he hadn’t before, and she wouldn’t be surprised if the folded hat he was wearing could be pulled down and used as a ski mask. His hands were in his pockets as well. Although that could be because his pockets were comfy with the pants being as baggy as they were. He also looked like he was mouthing the word ‘sorry.’ What was that all about?

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

‘Don’t panic! We’re friends.’

‘We’re friends?’ Silvah said.

‘We’re definitely not friends,’ the guy from the pawnshop said.

The other Qatani man put his hand in front of his mouth and gasped for breath. Then he pulled on his turtleneck to straighten it.

‘Then let us introduce ourselves. My name is Shimura Miles and the boy behind me is—’

‘Damien Dwight,’ Damien said.

‘Exactly,’ Miles said. ‘Pleased to meet you.’

He held out his hand, which Silvah left hanging in the air for a second. Both Misha and Simon stared from his outstretched palm to her eyes and back, searching for any sign of danger.

She sighed and shook it.

‘Silvah Nighthart.’

Silvah thought she caught the faintest glimmer of recognition in his gaze before it was gone.

‘To our friendship!’ Miles said.

There was a silence.

Miles poked Damien in the side, and the boy started to clap.

‘Now, to celebrate our newfound bond,’ miles said, ‘I would offer to share some important information with you. For free. Because we’re friends.’

‘And that is?’

‘The location of the blade you’re looking for. And Damien’s help in retrieving it.’

Damien did a double-take of Miles, like this was the first time he’d heard of this. Going off the glimpse into Miles’s character Silvah had caught—it probably was.

Situations like this happened sometimes—had happened over the course of her police work—events that came out of seemingly nowhere but could lead to the development of a case. Most often it came down to a gut feeling.

Silvah listened to it.

11.

A line was forming behind them.

‘Ma’am, are you certain you know these two?’ The guard at the entrance to the auction asked for what must’ve been the fifth time.

‘Yes. I am certain,’ Silvah glanced back. Given the class of the folk behind her, they weren’t the most patient people in Yumekyo. Their stares were starting to grow a little uncomfortable.

‘Look,’ Silvah said, ‘if there’s an issue—’

‘There is no issue, Lady Nighthart.’

An Ishwari man in a tuxedo stepped from behind the guards and into the light of the moon. His eyes were sharp and the hair reaching halfway down his back perfectly straight.

‘Boss—’ one of the guards began. He looked like he was seeing a ghost.

The man placed his hand on the guard’s shoulder.

‘Please allow our esteemed guests through.’

‘Sir!’ the guard said.

He registered their names, and their group was through the entrance within seconds.

‘Enjoy your evening, all of you,’ the Ishwari said, watching them as they passed.

Silvah bowed a little.

‘Thank you.’

12.

‘What was that all about it?’ Silvah said.

‘An attempt at sabotage from one of my dear friends,’ Miles said. ‘Nothing to worry about, really. We made it through using the power of friendship.’

He gave her a thumbs up, the white of his teeth that contrasted with his skin gleaming as he smiled.

Silvah didn’t know what to make of him.

‘More importantly,’ Miles said, ‘your knife. You’ll need to go down into the basement.’

‘Is that where they are keeping my father’s blade?’

They walked through the halls of the auction house. A soft, orange light from the lamps above fell on the marble floor underneath.

Miles nodded.

‘That’s where they keep all the spirit tools.’

‘Spirit tools?’

He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes.

‘Objects mostly used for exorcising spirits.’

She frowned.

‘Like in a shamanic ritual?’

‘Funny that that would be your first thought but yes. Weapons made from special materials are capable of being infused with foul or cele energy, making them excellent for exorcism rituals. Some weapons have their own energy and can be used by anyone. Those fetch a high price.’

Most of what he was saying was flying over her head. Silvah also didn’t remember her father ever saying anything about the long dagger being a ritual weapon, but he did mention his family having a shamanic heritage somewhere up in the tree. It was possible.

The question then became: how was she going to get into the cellar? Because she sure as hell wasn’t paying for a weapon that they stole from her. And if they weren’t careful, she might want some words with the organiser, too. The Ryūjin-kai looked like the primary suspects for what happened to her family. But nothing was set in stone. Father wasn’t one to say ‘yes’ to his items being sold, and perhaps the auction hadn’t stopped at a ‘no’.

Then there was the other thing that had been stolen. Aoki had mentioned an egg. Silvah didn’t remember if that’s what her father’s item had been—she thought it almost impossible. Because, first of all, what the hell would Father need with an egg? Second, if he did have one, she’d never heard him as much as mention it. Third, would someone really murder her family over something like that? It didn’t make any sense.

But she had no other clue as to what it was.

Miles seemed to know a lot about weird things so asking him about it was an option. But she didn’t have a description of the egg. Yet even if she had, she wasn’t going to ask a complete stranger after an item that could possibly be the reason for her family’s demise.

‘You mentioned Damien helping me?’ Silvah said.

Miles patted the man in question on the back.

‘I’ll take both of you down to lower ground floor so you can look for it together.’

He was taking them to the basement when he couldn’t get into the auction by himself? She frowned. Silvah was beginning to doubt her earlier gut feeling. Had she chosen wrong? Damien certainly eyed shady, and Miles was too much of an extrovert for her tastes.

But…no. Stick with it. Trust yourself.

She looked around her. Every few steps there was a guard or two guards giving other members directions to their seat, or simply keeping watch. Which meant the total should be around a hundred, armed men in the building. She could really use their help. Even if they were only useful as a distraction.

‘Very well,’ she said.

They reached their box. The walls were white all over, and the inside wasn’t visible from the outside. One of the security guards checked her identity before opening the door and ushering them in. A perfectly warm breeze of air hit her face. Six black leather chairs, all with enough space to lay down and stretch like you wanted to, were arranged over red carpet. They came equipped with a table that you could use for your drinks and had a great view of the hall beneath them, where the presenter would announce the auction and take bids.

For now, the backside of the podium was covered with a large, thick, red curtain that hung down all the way from the ceiling. There was a solitary microphone stand in the middle. And right below Silvah, she saw the top of people’s heads as they took a seat in the many rows of chairs below. She did a quick count—space for around three hundred. It was already starting to get packed.

Across from her she could see more boxes, supposedly filled with audience members of a higher rank in society. She counted around twenty, all spread around the circle-like circumference of the floor they were on and looking down on the podium.

There were also three viewing boxes above her. She wondered who was inside those.

She looked at Miles and Damien, who had both taken a seat. There was another hour before the auction started in full.

‘I’m going to the bathroom,’ she said.

‘I’ll escort,’ Misha said. And he followed her out the door.

13.

‘Was it really alright to tell her all of that?’ Damien said without looking up from the drinks menu and quiet enough so the guard in the room with them couldn’t hear. There was a bottle of wine on there that cost around 300.000 Celestals…what the fuck. Who would be dumb enough to buy that?

‘It’s alright,’ Miles said.

‘I thought the school forbade sharing spirit knowledge with nomus,’ Damien said.

Though Miles did say he didn’t think she was one. She also seemed to take the information in stride, which was quite strange.

Miles smiled.

‘Call it an intuition,’ he said. ‘But something tells me she’s coming home with us tonight.’

Damien raised an eyebrow.

‘What do you mean?’

The woman called Nighthart’s bodyguard was staring at them, no doubt trying his best to overhear what they were saying. Damien looked back at Miles.

‘Did you get a look at her necklace?’ Miles said. ‘Didn’t it feel funny to you?’

He hadn’t looked. The chain went down to her breasts, and Damien didn’t want to be rude.

‘What about the guards of the auction,’ Miles added. ‘Noticed anything off about them?’

The student tried to think. Of course, there had been the man who helped them enter—he was a grade two sorcerer at the very least. You didn’t see them every day. However, apart from him, the others appeared normal. Most of them were wearing standard…oh.

‘Realised it? Most of them are wearing spirit tools. Some even had foul energy residue around them.’

Miles leaned forward, grinning in anticipation.

‘Tonight is going to be fun.’