Book 3 Chapter 22 (Patreon)

On Seventhday, Nox and Aria finally accepted Utpal Banerjee’s invitation. Joey and Caitlin accompanied the pair.

It took the couple half an hour to walk from the Galleria to the Golden Gavel. Nox alone would’ve covered the distance quicker in half the time, but Aria’s shoes slowed her down. It sat in the nicer part of Market Ring but closer to one of the gates that connected to Nobles Quarter. People of the group's station primarily took carriages to such events. Unfortunately, another murder in Market Ring left the streets crowded and roads blocked, forcing them to walk.

“These slippers weren't made for walking on cobbled roads,” Aria grumbled. They paused a hundred steps from their destination so she could remove her heeled shoes and massage her feet. “If the guards and student police took these crimes more seriously, the murders would've never made it to Market Ring.”

“It's not their fault,” Joey said. “These don't follow any of the usual patterns.”

“Usual patterns? What in Niddhogg’s taint are you talking about?”

“Are you just made because your feet hurt, or do you really want to know?”

“A bit of both. I’ll recover from the discomfort quicker if I’m distracted.”

“Ritual murders and serial killings usually have patterns. The former is devoted to some deity and has arcane traces where the killer draws a spellform and uses mana, the victim's life force to activate it. Meanwhile, serial killings often involve some sort of trophy collection or sexual element. The victims might have something in common, or the killer’s methods display some meticulous internal logic. These have neither. It almost feels as if someone is just trying to mess with everyone's heads.

“The patterns around the crime scene look like symbols, but they're not dedicated to no known god. The spell forms look incoherent and don't work. I had them tested. The only thing consistent about the victims is they're young, unmarried women. It started with prostitutes. Then, it moved on to troublemakers. Now, it's seemingly innocent young girls with unblemished pasts.” Joey scratched his head, watching a stream of guards march past them. “I guess a brief delay between disappearance and appearance of remains is common, too.”

“Then why don't the guards start investigating everyone related to women who've been missing for a couple of days?” Aria asked. “That's the most logical next step, isn't it?”

“Because far more women just disappear and are never seen or heard from again.” Joey sighed. “It's impossible to tell who was taken by sex traffickers and who by the ritual killers. That's assuming both parties aren't the same. It's impossible to launch investigations on that many people simultaneously.”

“Have you considered dropping the assumption? It might look like I'm just buying time so we don't have to start walking again, but I'm genuinely interested now. I took a few courses on this matter for my lawkeeping and governance qualifications.” Aria swallowed a healing pill before wiggling into her shoes. “What if traffickers are taking these girls and testing or using them for their needs? Candidates who don't perform or perish during their manhandling end up butchered and turned into a spectacle for fear-mongering. A panicked population has poor judgment and is therefore easier to manipulate.”

“That's certainly an interesting angle,” Joey said after taking a moment to think about it. “Would you mind listing the classes and professors for these qualifications? I feel like my criminal past has left me jaded, and I might be struggling to see the bigger picture.”

“You have my respect for recognizing your shortcomings, Joey Greengrasse,” Aria replied. “I hope that doesn't come across as condescending.”

“I think we should let the two of them sit together,” Caitlin whispered to Nox as they continued their walk. She took his arm and let the other two follow several feet behind them. “I predict sociology, politics, and the criminal mind will be a major topic tonight, and I have no intention of getting involved.”

“I wouldn't mind leaving them to their devices once we're in the auction house.” Nox chuckled. “They can sit at the back of the box and have their discussion. You and I can focus on the lots.” He lowered his volume as he continued. “In fact, I think I might get away with not wasting any money on art if Joey keeps her busy.”

“I heard that, Nox Ratra,” Aria called over her shoulder before continuing the conversation with Joey. The glare got a laugh out of Caitlin.

Utpal Banerjee’s Golden Govel was just as opulent as the alchemical baths. Marble floors, mahogany furnishings, gold filigree, rugs from the endless dunes, and opulence well beyond Nox’s recognition decorated the entrance hall. Attendants waited just past the entrance, checking invitations or ensuring guests had the means to bid on the evening’s wares.

A pair of women in elegant but low-cut gowns took Nox and his companions aside before he could show off his invitations. “Lord Banerjee asked us to look out for you, Sir Ratra,” one of them told him. “Your private box is ready for the evening. We’ve also brought in an assortment of Daksinsthani and local delicacies from the city’s finest eateries for you and your party to enjoy.”

“Thank you,” Nox said. “Please lead the way.”

“Would you like any wine, spirits, or cocktails?” The second attendant asked.

“I hear you have the beast Daksinsthani spiced tea in the city. I wouldn’t mind a touch of that with cream.

“Would you like a drop of spiced honey in that?”

Nox nodded.

“That sounds divine,” Aria commented. “I’ll have the same.”

Caitlin and Joey echoed the request.

The first attendant took their coats before leading them up the grand staircase to a needlessly luxurious private booth. The structure looked more like a theater than an auction house from the elevation. They looked down at the seats below, and the angle ensured no one below or in the neighboring booths could see them. However, Nox could see directly into the private boxes in the adjacent walls. Little tables for refreshments sat between each seat along with an artificed device. A familiar machine also sat by the wall.

The attendant pointed at the first. “Press this when you’re ready to make a bid. It will detect your speech if you’re holding it down and would like to state a custom amount.” Then she gestured to the machine by the wall. “We have a fine selection of musical recordings for while you wait and between lots. I’ll be waiting on you tonight and may operate the device for you if you’d like.”

Because of the state of the roads outside, the auction began late. The auctioneer apologized, and everyone received a round of free drinks. It was clear they wanted enough guests present for the first set of lots so that competition would drive up the bids.

Nox didn’t care about the first few items. They included old spell manuals involving mundane pieces of magic Nox didn’t care for. Some titles intrigued him and would probably teach him new rune combinations or spell-weaving styles, but not enough to pay exorbitant prices for them. Despite the supposedly low attendance numbers, competition was fierce. The first dozen items sold for a hundred to two hundred gold. Though they were antiques, most, if not all, of the items, would’ve sold for half as much if sold at the many spell weaver emporiums around Market Ring or on campus.

A high-vibration water whip spell in the second set got Caitlin’s attention. She ended up in a fierce bidding competition for it and then again for a tome on old illusion magic. Joey insisted that it was too much, but she insisted. The subject, apparently, fascinated him, and she found his obsession with manufacturing illusions adorable. Afterward, Aria bit on a stack of antique spirit-walking scrolls and lost, but successfully got her hands on an old Arctic tribal shaman’s journal.

Nox was indulging in the spicy Daksinsthani dishes and an iced version of the tea when the auctioneer finally got his attention.

“This particular relic is no longer functional but has historic value,” the man announced. His assistant held a giant magnifying lens over a rectangular belt pouch. The container wasn’t too different from what Nox used for his pills and vials. Blood and scorch marks marred patches, and the runework appeared damaged.“It served as the great artificer and planeswalker, Gwyneth ‘Lamplight’ Sen’s spatial storage device. Her son and grandchildren, some of the first delvers, carried it when eliminating several newly fallen gods.

“Historians estimate that Daksinsthan and the southern end of our continent would have far more high-expert and archon dungeons if not for their bravery. Our experts believe this relic was present for many such excursions. The burns suggest divine power was responsible for the owner’s death and the relic’s inactivity.

“The signature on the inside of the lid, our consulting psychometrist, and the item’s age all suggest it is authentic. As a result, bidding will start at five hundred gold.”

Nox activated the bidding contraption without a second thought.

“That was quick!” The auctioneer exclaimed. “Do we have five hundred and fifty? Five—We’ve got five hundred and fifty.”

Nox activated the device again, and the bids rapidly reached four digits.

Before he knew it, they were on the verge of touching five digits. His heart raced, and he had his left hand clenched so tight his knuckles had turned white. Nox only stopped when Aria grabbed his hand. She didn’t say anything but shook her head. Historical artifacts, apparently, always sold for significant amounts. He had heard that the city had several collectors of such memorabilia.

The next lot lacked the psychometric verification of the first, but the auctioneer claimed it, too, was a spatial storage device. It had activated when the device came into the business’ possession, but the power source had burned out during the testing phase. Their adept artificers had claimed it was repairable but couldn’t provide any guarantees.

The bids climbed slower and still reached four digits, but Nox won it for two-and-a-half thousand gold. His personal savings had risen to a quarter of a hundred thousand gold over the past year. It would’ve been higher if not for the amount he invested in his growing spy ring. Nox didn’t dip into his business’ profits for the effort but took a chunk out of the salary he paid himself.

Aria was right to keep him from bidding on the previous lot. It would’ve cut his savings in half if not drained it altogether. But desperation drove him. Two weeks was barely any time when it came to researching relics, but every day Nox spent without fixing his arcane problems made him more desperate. The same desperation made him risk his savings on a relic that might not get him the answers he wanted. In hindsight, he was glad he didn’t end up spending more than ten thousand gold.

The auctioneer declared a break like he had after every set. It gave guests the opportunity to relieve themselves, pay for their winnings, and collect or arrange delivery. Nox and his friends eagerly went down to collect everything they had purchased. He wanted a glance at the person who beat him to Gwyneth Sen’s artifact.

Much to Nox’s surprise and disappointment, Leisel Wyrd awaited him. He asked his companions to give him a moment and marched up to her, using his new weapon’s store mana to surround himself with Crystallized Essence. She held the pouch, smiling from ear to ear. When Nox approached, she held it out to him. “I would’ve stopped bidding if I knew it was you,” she said.

“Why?”

“I owed Kris a significant debt. Financial. Emotional. Romantic. Since you’re her apprentice and primary inheritor, this is repayment.”

“That doesn’t explain anything. You just spent close to thirteen hundred blighted gold, and you’re handing it over to me. This makes zero sense, Professor Liesel Wyrd.” Nox struggled not to use a mocking tone when he spoke her name. “What do you want from me?”

Leisel Wyrd sighed, rolling her eyes. “How much do you know about Kris? I know her time as Dean Woodson’s apprentice and time at the university is public knowledge. Did she tell you anything about her time between then and starting as a professor or recruiting you?”

“She served the Keeper of Knowledge.”

“And she was a cult hunter,” Leisel told him, smiling. “And my mentor in the art of hunting cults. The horrors got too much, so she left the organization, talking about launching a war on the gods instead. She never talked about it, but I think Kris also took down the mark that made her an orphan and put her on the streets. So, we—the organization was no longer of any use to her.” She paused, studying Nox’s face. “I want you to join us. We’re covert. We find cults. We destroy them. I want you to help me.”

“That explains the stealth, espionage, and almost the blighted mind magic, but not why you want me,” Nox replied. He nodded at Joey, standing on the other side of the room. “He’s better suited for this kind of thing. I’m not a—”

“You have the potential to become a mage killer. I’ve read up on you, observed your classes, and analyzed everything that is in the university staff record. You could make a big difference between your developing temporal magic and the Crystallize Essence spell. I know your ambition is taking out Sundarshahar, but its ruler has no reach outside her domain. Meanwhile, the blighted cults are everywhere.” Leisel moved closer to Nox and pressed the relic into his hands. “I’m tracking them in the city as we speak. Help me.”

“I’ll get back to you,” Nox said. He looked between her and the pouch, then pushed it away. “Keep the pouch. I appreciate the gesture, but I already have what I want..”

“What in Ygg’s name am I supposed to do with this?” Leisel demanded.

“Have you already paid for it?”

The professor nodded, holding up a receipt.

“Consider your debt to Kris paid and donate it to the university’s research department,” Nox answered before walking away.