“Why am I not surprised?” The expedition leader from the Pearl Hunt. He approached Lukas and Mister Grey as they studied the mask closely, loudly discussing its history and design. The Aquila guild’s emblem sat stitched across his left breast.

“The prodigy of the Shadow Seekers mixing with the Rat King?” One of his companions asked. “It’s a match made in heaven.”

“I swear the guild has no standards or shame. They—”

“Enough.” The expedition offered Lukas a hand. “Your performance and bravery during the hunt impressed us all.” He glanced at his companions. “If you ever want to change organizations, we at the Aquila guild would be glad to have you. There’d also be an excellent signing bonus in it for you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Lukas replied, flashing his most polite smile. “It comes as a surprise, honestly. I was sure your guild hates my guts.”

The man smiled. “People hate the Shadow Seekers for good reason. No one wants a watchdog tracking and analyzing all of their moves. You haven’t been with them long enough to taint your reputation, though. In fact, your work with the Cold Fire sorcerer has only made you more desirable.” His eyes drifted to Mister Grey. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not surprised to see you here, Lukas Zaun. Given the circles you’ve thrust yourself into and who you associate with, I expected you as a guest of your employer or our friendly neighborhood retired wizard. But the King of Rats?”

“It’s funny.” Mister Grey didn’t look amused as he spoke. “You lot use the title as an insult, but I’ve long embraced it. Treat the city’s unwanted as rats and they’ll eventually rally under their own.”

“You’re nothing but a trafficker of—”

The expedition leader held up his hand, silencing his fellow guild member. “This is neither the time nor the place for an outburst.” His attention remained on Lukas. “Your associates and how you appear in public will paint the people’s perception of you. So, I advise you to choose your company carefully, Lukas Zaun. I do not know how you ended up here with who you did or your purpose here, but I hope you understand it's likely to harm whatever goodwill—”

“I appreciate the advice and am thankful for your guidance,” Lukas replied, maintaining an almost courtly air. He wasn’t out to anger anyone powerful; at the same time, he didn’t want to anger Mister Gray, at least not until he received the second half of his pay. “But I can choose my company and associates without everyone’s opinion and say so.”

“Young Mr Zaun saved someone important to me, and I owed him a favor.” Mister Grey flashed a polite smile. “And all who have heard of me know that despite everything that I’ve supposedly done, I always return my favors. It’s perhaps the one and only positive rumor about me that’s true.”

“I noticed you’re after the Aquila Founder badge,” the expedition leader said. “Another piece for your morbid collection?”

“I wouldn’t call it morbid,” Mister Grey protested, feigning offence. “I like surrounding myself with pieces of history, their stories, their soul. There is beauty in it.”

“Sounds like a bunch of bullshit,” one of the other Aquila members grumbled.

“Think about my offer,” the expedition leader told Lukas, gesturing at his companions to move on. “It won’t last for long.”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Lukas failed to suppress his relief when the group finally moved on. They weren’t a part of the plan. He wanted things to go smoothly and quickly. The sooner he upheld the deal, collected the rest of his payment, and left, the better. He was prepared for things to go wrong, but that didn’t mean he wanted to deal with the aftermath of everything falling apart.

Things were far more silent and formal as they studied other objects of interest. The pair still put on a show, discussing the displayed items and everything around them excitedly. But it seemed Mister Gray had already found whatever he wanted.

Food and drink circulated around the hallway. The colorful, smoky cocktails tempted Lukas. But he resisted. He couldn’t afford to let anything hamper his judgment. His eyes wandered, too, and Lukas blamed the young body. Iskander was full of beautiful women, but the guests in attendance had the privilege of pampering, skin care, hair removal, and the natural vitality that came with shards or magic.

In fact, the sickly look had left Lukas altogether after his Body Pillar ascended to the second tier. His skin was nowhere near as pallid, and his cheeks were not gaunt. Esther claimed his eyes no longer appeared sunken, but he didn’t see much of a difference. Lukas imagined the young women around him had enjoyed significantly better nutrition along with the benefits of an ascended body, for significantly longer than him.

Wealth and power also impacted how the attention-grabbing guests carried and presented themselves. Elegance. Confidence. Grace. The ordinary citizens often came up lacking in most such departments.

Lukas scanned the room for people who didn’t fit in or fit in far too well. He wasn’t just in attendance for the job’s sake. It was vital for him to also look out for the witches. Thanks to the clone one killed, he had a rough idea of how their magic functioned and felt. Esther and Penelope had taught him how to focus his arcane senses. It involved more than just paying attention.

Instead, Lukas pulled all the magic he had deep into himself and focused it all on a point just below his navel. The exercise involved cutting oneself off from one’s own magic but still maintaining one’s arcane signature. It increased sensitivity to all nearby energies. Fortunately, Shade’s Mantle was born of a shard ability and remained functional.

A multitude of arcane presences prickled at Lukas, poking at him and vibrating at the edges of his mind. He hadn’t used the technique in public before, only in a training setting. Attempts at creating clones who specialized in it had also failed.

Once Mister Grey was sure that they had seen everything he wished to purchase, he wandered off to speak to his ‘associates.’ Lukas used it as an excuse to revisit all the lots and study them again. He didn’t particularly care about them. It was an excuse to walk past the larger groups and analyze them with his arcane senses. Some shot him curious glances. Others looked at him with raw hostility before creating distance.

Maybe coming here with Mister Grey was a bad idea, after all. Or is this more of a guild or class issue?

It didn’t matter. Lukas’s time in Iskander was almost at an end. He didn’t care about making a good impression, only about getting the job done. Long-term connections were, of course, useful. He needed to stay on the good side of the conclave, and especially the Union of Guilds. Their wide reach would affect Lukas no matter where he went. He couldn’t afford to make an enemy of them or have them look on him poorly. That meant limiting his involvement with Mister Grey. He hoped that fleeing as soon as the auction ended and the Nightingale’s Rest was taken care of would suggest he had accompanied the gang leader against his will.

A painful sting arced through the back of Lukas’s mind. It was a familiar feeling. His clone had felt it moments before the witch’s magic struck. Lukas followed the feeling to a couple nearby. He recognized the male half. The man frequented City Hall. He didn’t sit on the council, but was one of the people who had a say in the running of the port, owning shares in several large importing and exporting businesses.

His date was perhaps one of the most beautiful women Lukas had ever seen. Her skin was pale, almost lustrous, and unblemished. The woman’s face had almost perfect symmetry, and she wore her jet black locks up in an elegant bun. There was something unnatural about her beauty, reminding Lukas of Lady Silverspine in her human form. It was artificial. Manufactured with magic.

That’s her. The coven sent a representative, after all.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” A man called from the end of the ballroom. “The time comes. Please come forth with your tickets, and a personal butler will guide you to your personal box.”