Newly Summoned Demoness - Chapter 53 – Reverberations (Patreon)

The light stone was simple enough to activate once Yolani slotted in the mana shard. It had been just high enough quality to work. Unfortunately, it had been low on charge, and after the combat in the dungeon, she had been low on energy. The vault of mana crystals she had stockpiled proved their usefulness as she recharged the shard and her combat items.

The light stone was hauled off in a [Ralfot] driven wagon, and a few hours later a note arrived confirming her delivery of the goods… and the lengthening of her grace period of two more weeks to finish the last one.

It was a miracle they’d managed the first, and a weight settled on her shoulders. How was she going to get another mana shard?

The next few days passed like a blur as she tended to the shop. A visit to Ranolf cost her dearly in coin to recharge several trays of mana crystals. His monopoly, via owning the only demon kennels on the row, was exacerbated by the shortage. It wasn’t just her that had to go to him for charging, but everyone.

The cost went up accordingly.

Henri was a consistent presence, showing up every day like clockwork to check on her. She appreciated his care, but after the kiss, she couldn’t help but think of what he was after. Not that she didn’t like him, but there was no way she could think about that sort of thing with the specter of the Magister’s debt weighing around her neck.

Thankfully, he seemed to understand, or know, because he didn’t bring it up.

On the days that Henri didn’t make it because of his work, Lucas showed up. Both helped her whenever she needed assistance moving things, which was good because her father had packed things tight and she wasn’t tall enough or strong enough to move some of the crates. Reorganizing things took up most of her time.

Her father…

The shop’s bell rang and broke her train of thought. It was an early morning customer. A few words were exchanged, and Yolani fetched one of the spell locks and personalized it to their thumbprint. Then exchanged the item for a few coins.

By the time the transaction was completed, she had forgotten the person’s face. Normally she’d have felt proud to have made and sold the useful object.

All she could feel was a hopeless feeling. What was the point in selling the thing for a few coins? Without a mana shard, everything would disappear.

Yolani swallowed and went and turned the shop sign to ‘closed’, before getting on her city outfit. Leather armor, her wand belt, and a pouch containing her useful items. It was time to return to the Syndicate and fetch her share of the dungeon dive’s proceeds.

Hurrying down the row, she avoided the people moving up and down the street, but when she got to the main gate, a familiar face was there.

“Greetings lass, good to see you out and about finally,” Harlock greeted.

Yolani blinked. He wasn’t wrong. She’d spent the entire week locked up in the shop almost. “How are things?”

The sergeant shrugged. “Same as ever. A bit more desperate. The shortage is on everyone’s lips. More and more come and go, looking disappointed. Got word it’s starting to affect the infrastructure people. Waterworks technician was cursing a storm when he left yesterday.”

She considered that. The city certainly needed mana shards to effectively operate. There were too many people in too small a space for it to be otherwise. Air was constantly cycled from long lengths of air pipes, while sewage, running water, and the light stones all required shards to power their functions.

Civil engineering would always have first priority for their needs, but if they weren’t getting any either…

The situation seemed even more dire than she thought. Why wasn’t everyone panicking?

Yolani blinked. They didn’t know. Not everyone was an artificer that understood how the city functioned. It explained the grim look she’d seen on her peers’ faces when she had been to Ranolf’s recharging her crystals.

“If yer gonna take a nap on me, you can take my seat, lass. Although I was fairly certain I was the older of us, and more prone to falling asleep in the middle of the day,” Harlock said.

The comment jolted her out of her inner thoughts, and she let out a little laugh. “Sorry, sorry. You gave me a lot to think about. I’m heading to the Syndicate to pick up my share of our dungeon run.”

Harlock frowned. “You’re going alone?”

Yolani nodded. “I’ll be fine. There is plenty of time. I’ll go through the Conclave side of things.”

He let out an unhappy grumble, then looked over to the other side of the gate. “Oi! Lucas!”

The middle-aged man hurried over, wearing a brand-new set of armor. It was clear where he had spent part of his share of the loot.

Yolani smiled at him. “Nice to see you, Lucas!”

He smiled and greeted her back before looking more seriously to Sergant Harlock. “Sir?”

“Escort mission. The girl is going to pick up her gold from the Syndicate. Make sure nothing happens to her,” Harlock ordered.

Embarrassment ran through her. “Sergeant, there is no need. I’m not a…”

“Things are restless, and the service is part of our employment package,” Harlock said before turning back to Lucas. “If she needs to make any detours or the like, then follow along. Just make sure she gets back safely.”

As they headed through the city, she really couldn’t think of anything to talk about. “Uhm. Sorry for putting you out like this.”

“No problem. Guarding the row, escorting through the city. Job is about the same,” Lucas replied. He grinned at her. “Actually, you could say I got an upgrade cause I get to walk with a cute artificer.”

Her cheeks heated, and she let out a nervous laugh.

When they reached the central city hub, her feet were hurting. A week of inactivity had left her out of shape? She trekked onward.

When the Syndicate’s fortress of a district finally came into sight, a frown crossed Yolani’s face. A thick crowd had gathered outside. “What’s going on?”

“Lot of people are offering a lot of coin for mana shards. Lots of people are hard on their luck, taking the chance to go on a dive to look for one. Profit share is enormous considering the price the shards are going for at auction,” Lucas explained.

“Any idea what those prices were?” Yolani asked.

Lucas shrugged. “Think I heard fifty large golds for a high-quality shard. That’s enough for someone to retire on.”

Fifty large golds? That was insane.

“Expect you’ll get a large payout for your father’s shard,” he added.

Her shoulders drooped. Her father’s shard. If only Fenton hadn’t taken it, she’d have had the extra shard she needed to solve things.

Lucas immediately saw her expression crumple. “Oh, hey. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to…”

She shook her head. “It’s not your fault. I just haven’t worked through things yet.”

Skipping the crowd, they headed over to the back entrance to the Syndicate’s building dedicated to collecting auction sale shares. It was a plushly decorated but small room with a single receptionist window. The lady had them wait while she went to find the manager.

When she returned, it was with Fenton in tow. Was he the only manager that worked here? Or had he taken an interest in her for some reason?

“Ms. Aetherhart. I’m glad to see you. Your father’s shard went for quite a sum,” he said. Pulling out a small leather bag, he handed it to her.

The weight shocked her.

As he stated the value, she was shocked. “Twenty large golds for the shard itself as your father’s share. Plus, one large gold, five small gold, and some silver for expedition’s share.”

No wonder Harlock had sent Lucas with her. It was a fortune! Everyone had received just over one and a half large golds for the run? That was… way more than she had expected.

Fenton glanced at Lucas. “I see you already have your own escort, but if you’d wish, the Syndicate can provide a carriage or men at no charge to see you safely to the bank or your shop.”

Yolani swallowed. “I don’t suppose you have any mana shards for sale with 800 capacity?”

He shook his head. “We’ve had a few come in, but they are going quite high at the auction. You missed it, I’m afraid. I would tell you that next week’s auction might be your chance, but supply has not recovered, even with so many new divers.”

“Twenty gold wouldn’t be enough for one?” Yolani asked with a frown.

He shook his head. “I’m afraid not. The Magistrate has placed a blanket ban on the sale of the lower end of our shards, buying them outright for the city. There is not enough for even that, and only the higher end ones have been going to auction.”

She let out a defeated sigh. “Thank you for the information, Manager Fenton.”

The ache in her feet prompted her to take the man’s generosity. “I’ll take a carriage back, if it’s really no trouble.”

He nodded. The arrangements didn’t take long.

The entire ride back, she clutched the bag of gold. Maybe she could try visiting all the shops in the Row again? Other than that, she had no idea or clue where she’d be able to find a mana shard.

***

Interlude – Gaston

Lieutenant Gaston stood rigidly in Captain Harrik’s office, the latter man leafing through a thin folio more for display than anything else. The air was thick with tension as the captain sighed and leaned back in his chair, pinning Gaston with a stern look.

“Lieutenant,” he began gruffly. “Care to explain why you let an unregistered and unbound demon saunter past your checkpoint like it owns the place?”

Gaston swallowed, fixing his gaze on a point behind Harrik’s head. “Captain, the demon in question is not unrecorded. I submitted the initial classification and observations myself…”

Harrik responded by tossing a report across his desk; it skimmed the polished wood surface and almost slid off onto the floor before Gaston caught it.

“I read your report,” Harrik grumbled. “Everything seems in order except for one minor detail—she’s free as a bird, no contract binding her.”

Bewilderment flashed across Gaston’s face. “Sir, when she passed through my checkpoint, she was unmistakably under contract.”

Ignoring Gaston’s confusion, Harrik reached for a small wooden case on his desk, revealing an assortment of cigars. He selected one and deftly used a gilded cutter to prepare it.

A sense of annoyance washed over Gaston as he watched Harrik light up the cigar—tobacco was restricted in Neftasu, and somehow these sessions usually ended with him neck-deep in trouble.

Smoke filled the room, curling around Harrik’s figure like spectral tendrils. Gaston tried to relax. The captain only smoked in front of him to set him at unease. He knew better than to protest, or even mention that the Overworld cigars were a type of contraband. Some battles were just not worth fighting.

An exasperated sigh escaped Harrik as he waved his hand in the air. “Look around you, Lieutenant,” he said. “You know what time of year it is, and this year’s worse than usual.”

He paused, waiting for Gaston’s nod before continuing. “There’s word that Magister Astolf has come to an understanding with Magister Relain. The uneasy peace between the Mercenary Guild and Syndicate only confirms it.”

Harrik leaned back again, puffing out another cloud of smoke and watching Gaston closely as he continued. “Imagine if the Council swings into Relain’s hands? Imagine if our budget gets slashed while the scum in the Outer districts ends up richer?”

Gaston could only nod at this. He agreed tentatively; such a shift in power would indeed be bad for the Guard, although there was a very obvious need for more funding in the Mercenary District, but how did it connect to their demon problem?

“Sir, I see your point, but I fail to understand its relevance here. There are countless demons within these city walls.”

“Yes,” Harrik shot back impatiently, “all bound neatly to someone who answers for their actions. But who answers for this one?” He pointed a stern finger at Gaston. “We do. You do.”

Gaston sighed and rubbed the side of his head. “But sir, she was accompanied by Conclave monks and didn’t seem at all unhinged…”

Harrik cut him off with a derisive snort. “And they never do… until they do! And then it’s us cleaning up the mess!”

Sliding two pieces of paper across his desk towards Gaston, Harrik continued grimly, “Just look at these—two incidents involving her already.”

He pointed at each report in turn. “One where she nearly beat a woman to death and another with a disgruntled noble shopkeeper lodging a formal complaint against her.”

Gaston frowned, picking up each report and leafing through them, reading as fast as he could. He knew the Captain valued the complaints from the noble district more—they catered to the nobles who could take their grievances straight to the Magisters.

“And then there’s the mana shard shortage.” Harrik continued, “Not only is it disrupting our operations, but it’s also destabilizing the city’s economy. The city works is in uproar. The Council is on edge.”

The implications he was stating were clear—if things went awry now, it would not be good for the city guard. It would not be good for Captain Harrik.

“I want you to handle this, Lieutenant,” Harrik commanded, leaning back in his chair and puffing contentedly on his cigar. “She’s been here for just one day and already stirred up trouble. I trust you’ll deal with her appropriately.”

Gaston held his ground, determined to make his point. “Sir, based on the reports, it seems she didn’t instigate the first incident. As for the shopkeeper’s complaint—my nephew was involved. She merely showed up and tried to—”

“Enough!” Harrik snapped, slamming his fist onto the desk, causing his cigar ash to scatter across its polished surface. “I don’t care about your opinions. This is an order! Deal with her!”

The captain’s eyes bore into him as he laid out a range of unsavory options that included hiring a Conclave hitman or even tricking the demon into a trap outside the city.

“If you can force her into a contract serving the Guard, that would be ideal,” Harrik added grudgingly. “Every other fool in this city is collecting these pet demons like they are lucky charms. Why not us?”

Gaston swallowed hard at that suggestion before proffering his own idea: “How about we start by having her under surveillance? Just to assess her value…or threat.”

Harrik leaned back in his chair. “Fine,” he conceded gruffly.

“But remember this, Gaston,” he continued, pointing a finger for emphasis. “You’ll be responsible for whatever happens. We can’t afford any mistakes right now.”

“Do you understand?” The captain’s question hung heavy in the smoky air between them.

Gaston nodded solemnly. Wasn’t that how it always was?

“Yes, sir.” He replied.