I ended up doing as much research as I could on mineral rights, selling, and more over most of the next day.
What I found was that the US government had a pretty good stranglehold on anything considered precious, unless you had land in the family. I’d found a bit of a way around the legality of the gem market by producing my own ‘stones’ via Shape-Shifting, but the market for pearls might actually be somewhat difficult to get into as well.
The check from the DSR cleared my account without setting off any alarms, which surprised me. I’d half expected to get a visit from the IRS or federal agents of some kind just from the size of the check. The week was still young, and everyone knew that governmental agencies ran behind most of the time.
With the funds from the check, as long as the government didn’t try to seize my account that is, I was safe for a year or more. I could stretch the funds even further depending on the girls and their summoning, but that was more about the cost of groceries and daily expenses rather than rent.
“Wonder what it would cost to get an RV and just live out of that?” I mumbled while laying sprawled on my couch looking up at the ceiling.
Ever since I’d figured out the trick with earth magic to dust and clean the apartment, I’d had to find a new way to practice my Shape-Shifting power, which was my bread and butter trick. Honestly, it was probably a good thing, since I doubted using the power to dust would actually give me much in the way of mastery.
I’d already accumulated around a hundred of the pearls, finding that the shimmer-nest conch shift could do as many as twenty at a time. Experimentation taught me that I could alter the shape of the pearl by altering the shape of the ‘seed’ before it went in. At the moment, I was processing a bunch of round ones, as those were the most valuable based on my research.
Doing my ‘crazy starfish’ impression there on the couch, a gentle swirl of motion near my door caught my attention. I turned in time to see the light in that area dim for a brief moment as a dark stain formed slightly in front of my door with ribbons of shadow extending out from it.
Before I could react, the darkness froze in its motion and then a slender, stockinged calf extended out of the shadows to bring a sensible-heeled black shoe down on my linoleum. A thigh that showed just a slit of blue-gray skin above the stocking followed that calf before a black pencil-skirt took over. A moment later, the white blouse I was familiar with emerged from the puddle of shadow, but I was already relaxing as I recognized who it was.
“So that’s how you and Cerebaton keep popping in and out of places,” I said with a broad grin as Cariad’s head emerged last from the shadow portal, her strawberry-red hair bouncing energetically.
“Oh shoot! I was hoping we could keep it a secret longer,” Cariad smiled while snapping her fingers. “Portal travel is a small benefit of working with the DSR, and no one really expects it.”
She had her familiar document case tucked under her other arm, and paused for a moment to glance over her shoulder at the door. I followed her gaze and listened closely. I’d missed it before, but I could hear the quiet thump of rap music through the wall and a few voices talking.
“Sorry about just coming in, Liam. You have neighbors in your breezeway and I didn’t have a lot of time to divert the corridor once I was already on my way here. I had a break at work and figured I’d come check on you after yesterday’s sparring match.” Cariad gave me a winning smile, and I couldn’t help but grin back at her.
“That’s fine. They do that sometimes when they want to smoke, but don’t want the landlord to get angry,” I said with a shrug and rolled to my feet, having to adjust my balance because of the large shell that was replacing my left hand currently.
“Working on your ‘get-rich-quick’ scheme, I see,” Cariad nodded to the brilliantly shining shell, and I shrugged.
“Not much else to do at the moment. I feel like I have part of the idea right now, but I have to figure out the rest next,” I said while waving the shell-hand about.
Cariad covered a giggle, her sea-green eyes glittering in amusement. It was good to hear her laugh. It helped make the distance between me and my girls a bit easier having someone to talk to.
You should get in touch with Jameson. Hang out with your friend on this side, I reminded myself. The girls send you messages all day after all. I swear if it wasn’t for research and amusing videos, I could probably get rid of my phone at this point and just use the interdimensional super-computer that is somehow interfacing with my mind.
That particular thought made me a bit queasy. My overactive imagination in the wake of the increased cognition happily supplied images of cyborg implants that were partially out of phase with reality, so I couldn’t actually see them.
“Well, you are basically selling the ingredients for jewelry, Liam. You should look into whether there is a better market for selling directly to manufacturers, or open your own storefront to sell directly to consumers,” Cariad suggested with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “Mind if I sit down?”
“No, go ahead,” I mumbled while staring thoughtfully into the distance.
The previously mentioned increased mental facilities were now working in overdrive as they considered different options for markets as far as I knew.
Since I didn’t have to prove the source, I just needed to get the pearls officially graded and then the grading should be enough to satisfy a buyer. I may not even need that if I opened a storefront on something like Bitsy or zBay. Then it would be just a matter of making sure orders got shipped out in time and other small business stuff.
The slight bounce that came from my shitty old couch shifting next to me broke me out of the trance. I glanced over to find Cariad had settled down onto the cushion on my right while peering down at the glimmering shell in my lap.
“It really is beautiful. It’s too bad that touching it would corrode the material though, otherwise I’d commission a bunch of them from you to give as gifts.”
Cariad’s eyes flicked up to meet mine through her lashes, and I was reminded of Kassandra doing similar, though her glasses always distorted the effect, the silver-rims of her glasses always accentuated her pale skin so well. Additionally, the silver was more sturdy than soft gold would be.
“Glass,” I said suddenly, sitting bolt upright as my mind made the mental leap necessary.
Cariad just blinked at me in surprise, her second set of eyes opening to add to the surprised staring from her first set.
“What?” she asked quietly, tilting her head to one side.
“Hang on, let me think for a second,” I muttered while my brain whirled down a number of different roads at once.
I glanced down at Cariad’s outfit and the black leather of her document case, then snapped my fingers with a grin as everything locked into place. I needed to test a few things first, but that would be easy enough to do.
Hopping to my feet, I hurried to the kitchen and flipped open the trash bin. A bit of rummaging produced the melted remains of Cariad’s coffee mug from when she’d stopped by to yell at me for being an idiot before.
“Liam?” The concern in Cariad’s voice was obvious, but she was waiting while I rushed through my idea.
“Just a second, I think I figured out something,” I called back and set the heavily corroded bit of porcelain on the countertop.
Porcelain is just fired clay, clay is a naturally occurring mineral. I was able to mend Mom and Dad’s rings the other day with Manipulate Element. Hmm, I need to make sure it wasn’t just metal I could do. I was able to shape stone in the caves, but porcelain might be different. Baby steps.
Focusing on the porcelain cup, I reached into my core and performed the familiar mental gestures to tug out the mana there. Then I sent it out to the porcelain cup.
The cup reacted immediately, the sides thinning and growing to fill in the empty spots. The fragment of the handle melted away as well, the material being reclaimed until there sat a small porcelain bowl. Even the natural glaze had obeyed my directions and stretched to fill in spots.
“Okay, that worked! Next is,” I muttered, whirling to rifle through the cupboards to find a spare water glass.
Snatching one off the shelf, I pushed with the mana that still remained close to the surface of my skin.
The glass fought me more, but still not as much as the stone had in the cave under the mountains. It deformed and the lip of the glass came free like I was pulling a piece of warm taffy. I nodded as I let the glass pool in my right hand before lifting my left to gently produce one of the finished pearls that I still had inside the conch.
The pearl dropped into the puddle of glass with a quiet tink and I quickly folded the glass over top of it. A bit of rolling in my hand, encouraged by the magic, had the sphere of glass encase the pearl before a quick tap on the countertop formed a small flat spot to let it balance there.
Removing my hand, I looked down at the glittering pearl encased in very durable glass. I had felt the irregularities in the glass while forming the sphere. It had only taken a bit of a tug from Manipulate Elements to pull them out and leave only a regular structure behind to make it stronger.
The iridescent pearl shone inside its glass sheathing, the opalescent rainbow of its colors safely protected behind the glass.
“Okay. One more, this time smaller,” I muttered, tugging another piece of glass off that was barely the size of a dime.
A quick bit of work had another pearl captured inside of it. Then another mental effort gave the glass a bit of an egg shape and a small loop that would work to hold a closure.
“That’s really pretty, Liam. But won’t it melt when I touch it, anyway?”
Cariad had crept over to watch while I worked, standing just across from me now while chewing on her bottom lip daintily. Her sea-green eyes were wide with wonder, while her electric-blue ones were watching me with a bit of worry to their slitted pupils from their spot by her temples.
“If I use glass that is native here. But you’ve told me your clothes are made of non-reactive materials in the past. That’s why you don’t just melt through the ground or my couch when you sit down. Glass is one of the least-reactive materials that our science knows of, surpassed by things like gold. But gold isn’t transparent.” I smiled down at Cariad, but she just looked up at me in confusion.
“I don’t get it, Liam.”
“Look, I can make you some jewelry from these pearls. I just need you to get me some of the non-reactive materials they use to make your clothes. Specifically, whatever metal you want it made with, and a bit of glass. I can see you have something similar to glass that is being used on the buttons of your blouse.”
Cariad’s eyes dropped to said blouse, which was sitting with the top three buttons undone and exposing a good deal of the upper curve of her blue-gray skin. A faint blush colored her cheeks, but she was smiling when she looked back up at me.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“You’d use the neutral glass to cover the pearl, and then the metal would attach to the glass. At that point, you wouldn’t need to use neutral metals, and it wouldn’t vanish when I touch it with my skin!” Her voice rose in excitement as she spoke, and her grin blossomed into a full faced one.
“Exactly. I can do something similar here. Selling raw pearls by the pound might be harder than building the jewelry myself. I just need to get the pearls certified before I do it, so no one questions if I used authentic pearls. I did the research, and it just takes a few licenses and opening a small business. My overhead would be next to nothing, as I’d be paying myself for the pearls. Heck, I don’t have to do just jewelry. It wasn’t hard to shape the glass, so I could do all sorts of stuff with sculpting glass ornaments and the like. I could even make quite a bit by buying and restoring old pottery too.” I tapped my finger on the porcelain bowl in front of me.
“That is unbelievable!” Cariad crowed happily, bouncing from foot to foot now in an adorable little jig that sent small ripples through her lush figure. “You just have to confirm that your magic works on the same neutral-charge materials we have. I know a gal in Procurement that should be able to get me samples.” She glanced down at the watch on one slim wrist and nodded. “I’ve got time. I’ll run over there and see if I can get a few small pieces for you to experiment with. I want to be your first customer!”
Cariad stepped back from the counter and flicked her wrist in a downward motion with her hand flat like she was doing a tiny karate-chop. The air where her hand passed darkened and swirled over the course of a second. she dove through that shadow a moment later, leaving me behind with a mess on the counter and a mind full of ideas.
Of course, that was the exact moment that someone began pounding on my front door too.
<><><>
I panicked at first, flailing about with my Shape-Shifted hand and accidentally firing several of the pearls out of the shell with quiet phut noises that ended in sharp clack’s as the pearls hit the drywall over my shitty little kitchen table.
Getting my panic under control, I hurried over and stared through the peephole. A brown leather flat-cap sat squarely in my field of view, supported by a cranky-looking Irishman that I recognized, dressed in a blue button-down and khaki pants.
“Shit,” I muttered when I recognized Jameson standing on my porch.
As I watched him through the peephole, he raised his fist and pounded on the door again.
“Come on, Liam! Pull your pants up and come open the door. I’m choking to death on weed smoke and bad music out here!” he called through the door. Someone outside must have said something because I saw him turn to his right and flip the bird at someone I couldn’t see.
“One second!” I called through the door and ducked away.
I couldn’t just let him in while my hand was shifted into a giant conch shell. I needed to get rid of it.
So far, I hadn’t clued Jameson in on the whole ‘dimension hopping mercenary’ angle of my life, and this was not the way to go about doing that.
Yeah, surprising him with a rather disturbing image like this is totally the wrong way to go about it. He’d need to be a lot more drunk to not freak out seeing this, I thought frantically. Can’t just shift back, it’s got a full load of pearls in it and Cerebaton warned me not to do that.
My eyes landed on the new porcelain bowl on the counter next to the damaged water glass, and I hurried over.
It took me a second to get the right gestures to carefully remove the pearls from my shifted hand, filling the bowl with a clattering noise not unlike dropping hard candy into it.
As soon as the last pearl fell into the bowl, I focused and my hand flowed back into its normal shape. I gave the room a quick once over, spotted Cariad’s document folder sitting on the couch and brushed it off since it wasn’t sitting open. Jameson was nosy, but the man had a good heart and he wouldn’t pry into that.
I quickly scrambled to collect the small number of pearls scattered over the floor, jamming them into my jeans pocket as the noise in the hall increased.
“Liam! Get your lazy ass out here before the natives carry me off to make stew!” Jameson yelled through the door, pounding again on it. I heard more snarling insults from the hall and raced over to yank the door open.
Jameson was half-turned away from the door and giving the finger at a trio of dark-skinned teenagers, one of which still had a joint hanging from his lips.
All three were dressed in what I’d mentally labeled the ‘Thug Lyfe’ style, with sagging jeans falling to mid thighs and oversized shirts with crooked ball-caps on their heads.
“Jameson, seriously? You have to cause trouble with everyone when you come by to visit?” I growled, reaching out to grab him by the collar of his shirt and yank him into the apartment.
“Yo dawg, what the hell? You can’t say shit like that to us and get away with it,” barked one of the teens.
I turned back and gave him a once over while stepping up to lean against the door jamb, completely blocking Jameson from view.
“You’ll have to forgive him, guys. He’s got a potato crammed so far up his ass it’s affecting his brain,” I said quickly, giving each of them a once over.
All three teens who had been happy to gang up on the shorter carrot-topped white guy in his nice clothes hesitated when I confronted them in my tattered work jeans and faded pocket shirt. I knew that I struck an intimidating figure just because of my size, something Jameson had taken advantage of in the past when his shit-stirring got him in trouble, so I wasn’t afraid to use it to deescalate the situation.
“Aight, we can let it slide this one time,” said the teen in the front after a handful of tense seconds. “But just because we finally got a good buzz going, and I don’t wanna lose that. Come on, fellas.”
The three wannabe thugs waddled back down the breezeway, leaving a cloud of marijuana smoke hanging in the air in front of my apartment. I let out a gusty sigh, closed the door, and turned to glare at Jameson.
My pesky friend was already headfirst in my refrigerator, fishing around inside it while the door mostly blocked his body.
“You have got to stop causing problems all over the place, Jameson. Or else you are actually going to get your ass beat one of these days. If they break your fingers, your architecture career is over.”
“Meh, I can run faster than they can with their asses hanging out like that. And I get my fill of having to be polite at work. Why don’t you have any beer here?” Jameson leaned back to give me a toothy smile, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Because you didn’t tell me you were coming, shit-stain.” The twinkle in his eyes got more mischievous as I fired the first shot in our customary insult-war.
“You keep Coke Zero on hand, but not beer? Liam, you are turning into a teetotaler on me? I can understand cutting some costs since you are between work right now, but liquor is life. You are gonna end up like one of those health-food nuts that never stops talking about their quinoa salads if you keep this up.”
“Of course you’d say liquor is life. You play any harder into those stereotypes, you really are going to end up with a potato crammed up your ass.”
Jameson laughed and slammed the refrigerator closed while cracking his soda open and walking over to peer at the bowl full of pearls on the counter.
I winced. I should have hid them, but I was more worried about getting my hand back to normal and keeping Jameson’s mouth from getting him a beating.
“What’s this? You turn into a rock collector in your free time? Gonna start the woo-woo stuff and become a desperate housewife?” Jameson shot me a wry grin, and I rolled my eyes at him.
My mind jumped tracks though, and I made a mental note to look into the market for things like statues for new-age stores. I might be able to make a bit more cash like that. If I could shape tunnels in rock, I could probably knock out some statues that would look good on the shelves of one of those Wicca supply stores.
Wonder if it would do anything to them that I used actual magic to make the statue? I thought wryly before answering Jameson’s question.
“Maybe. If it pays the bills, I’m not going to knock it. I mean, that’s what you always said about your work in college on that street corner.”
“Ouch, harsh but true. Leather pants never were my thing. But they did make my ass look good. You couldn’t rock those fishnets for long though, legs are too hairy,” Jameson replied with a grin, poking the pearls once more and fishing one out. “Legit, though, these are nice looking. Are you gonna take up jewelry making?”
“Maybe. Haven’t really decided yet. Gotta look into the licenses and the like.” I shrugged and beckoned him to come and join me on the couch.
I used that opportunity to shift Cariad’s document folder over to the table before flopping down once more. Jameson joined me with a grunt of pain as he sat down wrong and smacked his back on the exposed support in the cushions of the mostly dead couch.
“You really need to get a better couch, and a better apartment,” grumbled my short friend.
“Soon as I can rake in the big bucks, like a certain someone who plays with Lego’s for a living.”
“I don’t play with Lego. I create masterpieces with my Mega Blox, thank you very much. Boss is too cheap to spring for something as premium as Lego’s.” Jameson sighed and took another slurp of his soda. “Good to see you are doing okay, Liam. I half expected to either find you passed out in a puddle of gin or panicking when I decided to drop by.”
What is with folks I know just showing up at random today? First it was Cariad, then it was Jameson. Is Cerebaton going to burst out of the bathroom all of a sudden? The thought crossed my mind before slamming to a stop with all the abruptness of a bird hitting a window. That would be my kind of luck, and then I’d have to explain all this to Jameson.
I glanced around warily, half expecting to see the pitch-black swirl of a portal forming to summon the horned man I’d just been thinking of. But there was no sign of him, thankfully.
“You’ll find a new gig eventually, Liam. Working for yourself might be nice, though. You got the start-up funds for something like that? I can float you a loan if you need,” Jameson took a moment from our normal insulting sparring to ask me earnestly and I shook my head at my friend.
“No, I’m doing fine. I’ll let you know if that changes though, okay?”
“Sure thing. You let me know if you need anything at all. You might be too much of an idiot to know when to stop growing, but some of us know that ducking ceiling fans is bad for our health. We gotta look out for those of a lesser intellect.” Jameson immediately resumed fire, grinning that his concern had been properly expressed.
“Actually, I do. Considering how much of a squirrelly bastard you are, I figure you might know a CPA who could help me handle the paperwork to start a business?” I suggested, and Jameson paused to think for a moment.
“I don’t actually know one of those, but some guys at the office might have one they can recommend. Also, I’ll have you know that I am quite the accomplished squirrelly fellow and don’t need help to get out of trouble. I won’t even deign to respond to your crass insult about my lineage.”
“That’s fair, but I would appreciate the information when you get a chance. I’d hate to mess up the paperwork and be stuck behind a desk earning my keep all day, like someone else I know.”
“Better behind than under the desk. You’d know that, wouldn’t you?” Jameson took another long sip of his soda as if to accent his point with eyes closed in satisfaction.
Which was fortunate, as he missed what happened next. Apparently, I’d let myself relax too quickly and Fate decided to mess with me.
The swirl of darkness by my kitchen counter gave me the only warning I would get of an incoming visitor as that familiar black shoe emerged from the smoky shadows.
“Anyway, what brings you out here to visit me? Something on your mind? I promise that no matter what the doctors say, the other one will drop eventually,” I said quickly, hoping to keep Jameson’s attention on me as Cariad phased into view by the kitchen counter.
The daemon’s red hair bounced as she glanced around. Then her eyes widened when she spotted me on the couch with Jameson and she froze.
“Ha ha, that’s good, Liam. I can smell smoke. Were you thinking too hard on that one?” Jameson said with a faux laugh and an elbow to my side. “I was on lunch break and decided to drop by and check on my jobless-bum of a friend, that’s all.”
Out of sight of Jameson, Cariad held up a small cube of clear material in one hand and then a much smaller one of silvery metal in the other. The first was about the size of a large piece of fudge, while the second was about the size of a cube of sugar. Delicately, she set them on the counter with a pair of quiet clicks.
“While I might be jobless, the bum title goes to you. You’re just jealous that I get to relax all day is all. You know that being bitter won’t make you any prettier, right?” I was scrambling to keep the banter up. Thankfully, my increased mental scores were helping some in between providing me with all the ways it might go wrong if Jameson spotted Cariad.
“That’s harsh. You know I’m already pretty enough that it’s considered unfair to the rest of folks. Meanwhile, you look like someone tried and failed to chlorinate your gene pool,” Jameson shot back. “You know what? We should go out and have a nice dinner to celebrate you finally getting away from that shit job. Texas de Brazil or something, my treat.”
Cariad bit her lip and glanced around, clearly looking for something. Her sea-green eyes lit up when she spotted her document case and she carefully paced over to grab it.
Her shoes clicked sharply on the linoleum and Jameson began to turn, so I acted quickly and slugged him in the arm, barely remembering my increased strength in time to tone it down so I didn’t break it.
“Of course you’d want to go there. An all-you-can-eat steakhouse is a great place to choke on some meat, since they won’t let a pervert like you into the strip joints anymore,” I said in a scramble as Jameson winced from the punch.
“Ouch. Clearly you are keeping in shape. I’d say you are dumb as a rock, but at least rocks are useful. Man, that’s gonna leave a bruise,” Jameson whined, tugging at his shirt-sleeve to try to check his injured arm.
Cariad waved and pointed to her head, mouthing the words ‘message me later’ before stepping backwards into another swirl of shadow. I let out a relieved breath while Jameson continued to whine about his ‘broken’ arm.