Chapter 51: The Hunt for Primordials

  “I need access to the special section,” Madam Hurst demanded. “Please get Miss Lavender so we can sort this out.”

  “Uh, I’m sorry, ma’am,” the librarian stammered, struggling to get up. “I don’t know a Miss Lavender. Is she from another branch?”

  Madam Hurst looked at me. “You said she works here, right?”

  I nodded. “She was standing just over there. She gave me my library card and everything.”

  “That’s right,” she replied. “Show the librarian your card. That’ll show her what I want.”

  The librarian regained her composure as she did a library-related task. “Peculiar. Most peculiar.” She flipped through a drawer and took out a matching card. “I see he is sponsored by someone named Lavender. Very strange that her last name isn’t listed here. I don’t think I’ve ever met her. Also, I’ve never seen this special section endorsement letter. I can tell you for certain that this library has no such section. I can ask Mr. Latimer the next time he’s in if you wish. Perhaps he will know more about it.”

  Madam Hurst huffed. “That won’t be necessary. If you should run into Miss Lavender, please inform her that Madam Hurst wishes to make her acquaintance.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the librarian bowed, possibly recognizing the name. “If I see her, I will do that.”

  “Now then, Oliver,” Madam Hurst turned her attention to me. “Let us return to the empty shelf. I’d like to make a request.”

  I had a feeling I knew what was coming, but I followed anyway. When we got there, she handed me the slip of paper she’d filled out earlier.

  Essence Manipulation

  I took the slip and placed it on the empty shelf. A few moments later, a book appeared, once again bound to the shelf with thick chains.

  Madam Hurst tugged at the book and gave me a look. “Why is this book locked up? Yours weren’t.”

  I didn’t want to divulge how I liberated my books, so I just shrugged. Barbara looked at me with newfound respect, and John once again took to inspecting the backside of the shelf.

  Madam Hurst flipped the book open before closing it and examining the cover. “Is this supposed to be some kind of a joke?”

  Rules and Etiquette for Properly Utilising the Special Section of the Intergalactic Public Library

  I couldn’t help but chuckle when I read the title. “I don’t know. Maybe you have to have your own card to request books.”

  “Preposterous!” Madam Hurst snapped. “Where is that orangutan? I’d like to speak with his supervisor.”

  “Or you can try reading that book,” I suggested. “Maybe it has instructions on how to apply for a library card.”

  “I am not going to sit here and…” Madam Hurst muttered to herself, but she opened the book and began reading anyway.

  It was obvious that the shelf was going to be occupied for a while, so I decided to focus on something else for the time being.

  “Where are you going?” Barbara asked as I headed for the exit.

  “Home,” I replied. “I still have a problem to solve, and it doesn’t look like I’m going to get my book today.”

  Madam Hurst chose that moment to look up. “Oh, I’m sorry, Oliver. If I’d known the book would be chained to the shelf, I would have let you go first.”

  “Don’t mention it,” I waved over my shoulder. “Consider this a thank you for letting me use your supplies today.”

  She looked like she wanted to say something, but thought better of it and returned her attention to the book. “Have a good day, Mr. Evans. Will we be seeing you at the guild any time soon?”

  That, I wasn’t sure about. While the tinkerer’s guild’s resources were handy, I needed to solve my problem before I could make use of them. Still, I gave a diplomatic answer. “I’ll come back soon.”

  I wasn’t actually going home. Not yet. There were other avenues I could explore to learn more about Primordials. Two, to be precise: the shopping arcade and the adventurer’s guild. While it pained me to admit it, the adventurer’s guild was probably my best bet, so I set off.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “What’s it like being an orphan?” John caught up to me a couple of blocks from the library.

  I stopped to stare at him. “What do you mean? I’m no different than you.”

  “Sure you are,” he carried on, seemingly oblivious to the annoyance in my tone. “You don’t have to worry about rules, and you can come and go as you please. I bet you’ve never even heard the word curfew.”

  I bit my tongue. A spoiled rich kid like him could never understand. He didn’t have to worry about things like food or getting shipped off to the west because there were too many kids. As a magic user, he didn’t even have to worry about the fact that there weren’t enough jobs to go around for normal people.

  He continued to ask questions about orphan life. I half expected him to ask what he had to do to become one. Most of his knowledge seemed to come from the Little Orphan Annie comic, and then only the good stuff. Fortunately, the adventurer’s guild wasn’t too far, and he stopped the interrogation when we arrived.

  “Why did we come here?” he asked, looking perplexed. “I thought we were going to the orphanage.”

  “I am…eventually,” I said, not sure why he wanted to go there. “First, I want to look into getting primordial essence.”

  He gaped at me. “How do you plan to do that here?”

  I felt my eye twitch. “I’m, ugh, going to the auction house.”

  It was time to grow up. While I still had a lot to say about how the guild and the magical world treated people like Leslie, creating a lasting solution for my brothers and sisters back at the orphanage took precedence. I needed to suck it up and figure out how to buy a magic item from the most logical source.

  “Oh, it’s you again,” the man with the twisted mustache scowled when he saw me. “Found better friends, have you?”

  I glanced at John before realizing he was insulting Leslie. Still, I couldn’t let him get to me. I was on a mission. “No. I’d like to go in this time, though.”

  His lip curled up as though he smelled a fart. “Identification, please.”

  Without missing a beat, John puffed out his chest and forked over his ID card. It was different than mine and had the crest of the tinkerer’s guild where the adventurer’s guild normally was.

  “That’s more like it,” the man huffed. “He’s exempt from the deposit, but I’ll still need a gold from you.”

  I held out the gold tentatively. “I’ll get this back, right?”

  The man chuckled, snatching the coin out of my hand. “Of course, and it will be applied toward your purchases.”

  While I still didn’t like him, he was at least informative. The auction hall was smaller than I expected and not very crowded. I made my way to the front row and took a seat several chairs away from the next bidder.

  John followed a minute later and offered me a catalog. He whispered in my ear. “Without one of these, you’ll never know when your item is coming up for bid.”

  I frowned. “I have to wait for it?”

  Several people shushed me, and I suddenly realized they were bidding on a feather that sat on a pedestal at the front of the room. I paused to observe the process since I’d never been to an auction before, magic or non. A woman in a suit, complete with a bowtie and tophat, spoke foreign-sounding words in a rapid singsong voice.

  Roc Feather

  Monster Part

  Crafting Component

  Analysis: Rare item used in fletching, weaving, and alchemy. It can also be used in weight reduction rituals. 1 in 5 Roc kills result in a usable feather.

  “How much is that?” I whispered.

  He listened for a second before whispering back. “Thirty silver. It’s easier to tell what she’s saying at the start. The bid goes up by ten with every bid. Hold up your paddle if you want to make an offer.”

  “My paddle?” I asked, before noticing a small paddle with the number eleven on it.

  The moment I picked it up, the auctioneer pointed at me and continued her song of numbers.

  John chuckled. “You just bid forty silver.”

  “I…what?” I gasped, setting the paddle back in its holster.

  That was nearly a quarter of my money. I’d been so busy that I hadn’t made much money at all. My only saving grace was the potential to create something nice out of the feather. Fortunately, someone outbid me, and I didn’t have to worry about spending two thousand dollars on a feather.

  After the first item was won, and there was a small break while they brought out the next item, John took the opportunity to explain the catalog to me. “Only the items on this page will be auctioned today. However, you can bid on anything, even if you don’t plan on being here when it’s auctioned. There’s a desk where you can make your offer, and if you win, you collect it there.”

  I flipped through the pages, looking for anything Primordial. I was sadly disappointed. Just when I was about to walk out, I noticed something.

  Item: Shadowbind

  Item Type: Synthetic

  Description: Used to trap shadow-based monsters in a fixed location.

  Starting Bid: 10 Silver

  Auction Date: Thursday, April 21, 2:35 PM

  I got up and walked out of the auction house and past the man with the twisted mustache. Only when we were out of earshot did I say anything. “I want to bid on this one.”

  We walked over to the desk John told me about, and I slid the catalog over, pointing out the item I wanted. “I’d like to bid on this.”

  The old man behind the counter smiled warmly. “Ah, yes. That item’s been auctioned twice already. You can purchase it for the reserve price of fifteen silver if you wish.”

  “I do,” I replied. “And I’d like my gold back.”

  He nodded and walked to the back, returning with a small vial and a handful of coins. “Here you are, sir. One bottle of shadowbind and eighty-five silver. Enjoy your purchase.”

  “Thank you,” I said, mirroring his smile. Old people were nice to orphans.

  It only dawned on me that he actually looked old after I walked away. I’d met so many people who were significantly older than me, and they all could have passed for young adults. It made me wonder how old the old man actually was.

  “Are you going back to the orphanage now?” John asked, looking eager.

  I sighed. It was getting late. While I could still go to the shopping arcade, I needed to go home early enough to make sure everyone was fed properly. That meant I needed to make three more stops.

  First, I headed to the currency exchange. “I need one hundred dollars, please.”

  It felt ludicrous to ask for so much money. People killed for much less. The clerk didn’t even bat an eye. “That’ll be two silver,” she droned.

  I slid the coin to her and requested the money in dollars. I got the last ten in coins because that would be much more believable for an orphan to have. Beth could handle the rest. After that, I visited Miss Aires. She smiled when I arrived, but her face drooped when I told her I needed a meal to go. She made me a steaming plate of pot roast and mashed potatoes alongside a mountain of mixed vegetables. I stuffed it in my bag and headed to the quest counter to pick up some deliveries.

  “Let me guess,” the receptionist said. “You want all the small parcels.”

  “Yep,” I grinned. “You know me so well.”

  John was waiting for me when I finished. “What next?”

  “Home,” I replied with a yawn.

  He beamed. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why he wanted to come along.

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