The Aurium Auction.

In a city of institutions like Arkhos, this auction stood apart.

Everything about sounded expensive.

Held monthly in the Adamant Gallery, the auction stood as the cornerstone of upper-class commerce in Arkhos. Merchant guild leaders occupied the same room as dukes and duchesses, high priests and mages, all drawn by the promise of rare items and even rarer networking opportunities.

The main hall was part marketplace, part theater, and part social battlefield. Crystal chandeliers floated without visible support, each containing a small silver flame that never needed fuel. The chandeliers shifted position throughout the night, ensuring every item was presented in the perfect light when its turn came up for bidding.

Before the bidding began, attendees could enjoy a variety of spectacles. In one corner, two exotic beasts—a granite-skinned bear from the Northern Mountains and a serpent with scales like stained glass—fought in a magically contained arena. The beasts would never be seriously injured—that would reduce their value—but they would demonstrate their capabilities for potential buyers.

In another section, chefs prepared delicacies from rare dungeon ingredients. A chef sliced thin pieces from what appeared to be a pulsing purple tentacle, arranging them with tweezers onto small wafers. These weren't just exotic foods—they were temporary enchantments. Eat the right monster part, prepared the right way, and you might gain enhanced senses or increased stamina for a few hours.

Luxury trades that would be illegal in normal markets found legitimacy here, operating under special permits from the Empire. Want to purchase a bottled nightmare to use against your enemies? This was where you'd find it—with all the proper paperwork, of course.

Cass found herself both repelled and fascinated as she navigated through the crowd. Her formal robes—midnight blue with silver embroidery depicting the Wangara guild symbol—felt simultaneously too elaborate and not elaborate enough compared to the finery around her. The fabric moved like water, an enchantment that cost more than some people's monthly wages.

"I could get used to this," she muttered, surprised to find she actually meant it. The weight of the silk against her skin felt reassuring, a tangible symbol of her new position.

A servant approached carrying a tray of slender crystal flutes filled with golden liquid. Tiny bubbles rose continuously from the bottom of each glass, and the liquid itself seemed to glow from within.

"Would you care for some?" the servant asked, bowing slightly.

Cass took a glass. "What is this?"

"Sun's Blessing, my lady. Fermented honey infused with essence of summer light and aged in oak barrels lined with gold leaf."

Huh.

She took a sip. The liquid was sweet but not cloying, with surprising notes of citrus and warm spice, and bubbles that tingled pleasantly all the way down.

Behind her, the golem moved silently, its polished surface reflecting the shifting lights. Several attendees glanced at them with mixtures of curiosity and wonder.

Cass examined the small card in her hand again. Seat 56. Somewhere in the middle section, neither prominently placed nor insultingly distant. Perfect for a new guild finding its footing.

She moved through the exhibition area, where items for the evening's auction were displayed in glass cases with engraved placards describing their properties. A sword that could cut through stone as easily as butter. A compass that pointed toward whatever the holder desired most (results may vary). A small copper orb covered in constantly shifting symbols—the multiplier artifact that had brought her here tonight.

"Target spotted," she murmured, knowing Adom could hear her through the communication crystal in her purse.

People turned to look as she passed, whispers following in her wake.

"That's the Wangara guildmaster."

"Did you hear about the Crimson Scale warehouse? Complete disaster."

"Suspicious timing, don't you think?"

Cass kept her expression neutral, acknowledging those who nodded to her with a slight tilt of her head, but offering nothing more. She wasn't here to socialize.

"You're gonna scare them off with that face," Adom's voice came through. "Maybe smile a little?"

"Easy for you to say," she muttered under her breath. "You're not actually here."

But the golem was. It stood beside her, armored to look like a particularly serious bodyguard rather than the remote-controlled weapon it actually was.

Cass finished her drink and immediately found another servant at her elbow with a fresh glass. The servants here seemed trained to anticipate needs before they were expressed.

"That's your second glass in just ten minutes," Adom said. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Cass replied under her breath, scanning the room for the entrance to the seating area. "Just maintaining cover."

Beyond the exhibition space, double doors opened into the auction chamber itself. Tiered seating surrounded a central stage where the auctioneer would present each item. Seat numbers were inlaid in silver on each chair's arm.

Cass checked the crowd filing in for their seats. The wealthiest and most powerful took positions in the front rows. She spotted representatives from at least a dozen major guilds, plus several nobles whose faces appeared regularly on official currency.

She'd nearly reached the main chamber when she caught sight of them—a cluster of people in crimson robes edged with gold. Tresh Mavarin stood in the center, her silver-streaked hair elaborately arranged with golden pins. Beside her, Deroq spoke in low tones, gesturing with barely contained anger. Two other guild officers flanked them, looking grim.

Tresh turned, her gaze sweeping the room and landing on Cass. For a moment, their eyes met across the crowd. Tresh's expression didn't change, but Deroq followed her gaze and his face darkened with undisguised hostility.

"They've spotted you," Adom said through the crystal.

"Let them look," Cass replied, turning to leave. The golem positioned itself directly behind her.

"Where is he?" Adom's said, the golem's head turning slightly as it surveyed the crowd.

"What did you say he looked like again?" Cass murmured, pretending to examine her auction program.

"About six and a half feet tall, with long dark hair usually tied back in a loose tail. Young."

Cass scanned the crowd, looking for someone matching that description. "I don't see—"

The collision wasn't particularly hard, but it caught her completely off-guard. Someone bumped into her shoulder, nearly sending her stumbling forward. Her glass of Sun's Blessing tilted precariously, golden liquid arcing through the air.

The golem reacted instantly, turning toward the potential threat—but not before a hand shot out, catching the glass in midair. Another movement, impossibly quick, and the spilled liquid was somehow back in the glass, barely a drop lost.

"Whoops," said a deep voice. "My apologies, my lady."

Cass looked up—way up—into the face of a tall man with dark hair tied back in a loose tail. He wore the distinctive silver and blue armor of the Silvester Guild's elite members, polished to mirror brightness. His features were sharp but handsome, with an easy smile that suggested he was used to being forgiven for minor transgressions.

Kalan Artun. A familiar name and face—one of the Order members Adom had met months ago in the Weird Stuff store, back when things had only just started getting strange. He was also the one Adom had handed the street thugs over to, after they’d tried to mug him on the street.

Since then, Artun had been promoted within House Silvester, now serving as one of their senior envoys. He wasn’t just attending tonight—he was representing the guild at the auction. And if there was anyone Adom could rely on to have his back during something like this, it was Artun.

He handed the glass back to Cass with a slight bow. "I should watch where I'm going. These events are always more crowded than I remember."

"Artun," Adom's voice came through the crystal, the golem relaxing its stance. "Where have you been?"

"Just arrived, actually," the man replied, his eyes never leaving Cass. "The southern gate was a nightmare—some kind of merchant caravan blocking half the road." He offered Cass a formal bow. "Kalan Artun, at your service, Guildmaster Drake. House Silvester sent me to represent them."

Before Cass could reply, he took her free hand and brought it to his lips, brushing a kiss against her knuckles that lingered just a moment longer than strictly necessary.

"People are going to think Silvester and Wangara really are together," Cass said, her tone neutral despite the faint color that had risen to her cheeks.

"Good," Adom replied through the crystal. "It will alienate Crimson Scale even more. Their paranoia about a conspiracy against them will only grow."

Artun smiled, still holding her hand. "That was rather the point of my assignment, I believe. Shall we find your seat? I understand you have quite the evening planned."

Cass withdrew her hand, her expression returning to its usual practical reserve. "Seat 56."

"This way, then," Artun said, gesturing toward the auction chamber. "I believe we have a multiplier to acquire."

Cass nodded and followed, the golem moving silently behind them. Adom said nothing, but through the construct's eyes, he noted how easily Cass had offered her hand to be kissed—an action at odds with her typically pragmatic demeanor. Interesting, but not the time to comment on it.

The auction lights dimmed as a resonant chime echoed through the chamber. The evening's main event was about to begin.

Cass located seat 56 and made her way toward it. Artun followed closely behind, scanning the crowd with vigilance. As they reached the row, Artun spotted seat 57 several places down from Cass's position. Without hesitation, he walked over, lifted the chair completely off its mounting—drawing several startled looks from nearby attendees—and carried it back to place it directly beside Cass.

A few whispers rippled through the nearby rows. Moving seating in the Aurium Auction was like rearranging furniture in the Emperor's study—simply not done.

Cass sat down, her expression betraying nothing as Artun settled into his relocated seat.

"If you're trying to impress a certain someone, you could do that later," Adom muttered through the crystal. "Preferably after we've secured the multiplier."

Artun smiled smugly, somehow sensing the criticism. "You told me yourself to make sure people think Silvester and Wangara are allies," he said quietly. "I'm just following orders. What better way than showing I literally won't leave her side?"

For some reason, complete silence from Cass.

The golem's head tilted slightly—Adom's equivalent of a resigned sigh.

"Fine. But try not to disrupt the actual bidding."

Artun settled back in his chair, looking entirely too pleased with himself. The golem remained standing behind them, its metal frame reflecting the chandeliers' shifting light.

"Hey, isn't that the Archmage?" Artun suddenly asked, nodding toward the opposite side of the chamber.

Adom directed the golem's gaze across the room. Sure enough, Sir Gaius, Archmage of the Imperial Magisterium, sat in the premium section. His silver robes with blue trim marked his office even without the ornate staff leaning against his chair. He appeared to be deep in conversation with another mage in more subdued attire.

"What's he doing here?" Cass asked, keeping her voice low. "The Magisterium rarely involves itself in merchant affairs."

"Maybe he's after the same item we are," Artun suggested. "The multiplier could have research value."

"Or maybe he's monitoring the auction," Adom replied. "Some of these items border on restricted magic."

As if responding to their discussion, the Archmage's head suddenly turned, his gaze landing directly on their position. His lined face broke into a warm smile.

All three of them flinched simultaneously.

"I think he's looking here," Artun said, his casual demeanor slipping slightly.

"Why would he?" Cass replied, glancing around. "I don't think he is."

The Archmage raised his hand in a clear greeting wave.

"Must be someone else, right?" Cass muttered, scanning the people seated nearby. Several had also noticed the Archmage's attention and were looking around in confusion, clearly wondering who warranted such acknowledgment.

Then Sir Gaius pointed—directly and unmistakably at the golem.

Adom nearly severed the connection in surprise, causing the golem to twitch momentarily.

"You have a spell so people don't listen to us, right?" Artun asked, pretending to be engaged in casual conversation with Cass while his eyes remained fixed on the Archmage.

"Yeah," Adom replied after a beat, his voice slightly higher than normal. "No one can hear what we say unless they're within about a meter."

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"Good," Artun said, "because I think the most powerful mage in Arkhos just recognized your magical construct from across a crowded room."

"That's impossible," Cass said, maintaining her composure with visible effort. "He couldn't possibly know it's—"

The Archmage's lips moved, forming words they couldn't hear from this distance.

More confusion. What was his deal?

He then seemed to sigh, then lifted his hand to his ear. Between his fingers glinted a device identical to Cass's. He held it up briefly, then gave them a clear thumbs up.

"He has a communication crystal too," Adom realized aloud. "And he's... complimenting us on it?"

Cass observed the interaction silently, her brow slightly furrowed. "He's not what I expected the Archmage to be like... why is he doing this?" she finally said.

"I guess when you're Archmage, you make it your business to know about new magical developments," Artun said with a shrug that didn't quite conceal his unease. "Especially ones that could change how information moves through the Empire."

Sir Gaius nodded once more in their direction, then turned back to his companion, apparently satisfied with having made his point.

"Well," Adom said after a moment of stunned silence, "that's not concerning at all."

"Should we abort?" Cass asked, her fingers tightening slightly on her auction paddle.

"No," Adom replied. "We proceed as planned. The Archmage hasn't interfered, just... acknowledged us. That might actually be a good sign."

Artun nodded, his professional demeanor returning. "Either way, we're committed now. The auction's starting."

As if on cue, the floating chandeliers dimmed, focusing their light on the central stage where a tall elf in ceremonial robes had appeared. The crowd quieted immediately.

"Distinguished guests," the auctioneer's voice carried effortlessly through the chamber, "welcome to the four hundred and seventy-eighth Aurium Auction. Tonight's offerings promise to be particularly extraordinary."

Adom glanced once more at the Archmage, who appeared to be paying rapt attention to the auctioneer. Whatever his interest in them was, it seemed to have been momentarily set aside.

"Just focus on the multiplier," Adom finally said through the crystal. "Lot seventy-three. Everything else is secondary."

Cass nodded slightly, her expression settling into determined focus as the first item was brought onto the stage.