The bronze doors closed behind them with the deep, expensive sound of money deciding things.
Sun stopped walking.
The entrance hall of the Blackstone Auction House stretched wider than some villages. Polished marble floors reflected crystal lamps overhead. Pillars of black-veined stone rose to a painted ceiling showing gods, kings, ships, wars, and merchants somehow standing among them as equals.
Which, Sun suspected, was the real fantasy.
Perfume drifted through the air.
Soft music played from somewhere unseen.
Servants moved silently carrying trays of wine, fruit, documents, and gossip.
Everywhere he looked, wealth had been arranged to feel inevitable.
Sun frowned.
"I hate this place."
Samira smiled.
"You've been here twelve seconds. That's restraint."
Brin muttered, "I hate it too."
"You hate shoes with buckles," said Samira.
"They're decorative weakness."
Varen simply scanned exits, guards, balconies, and people with the calm of a man measuring how much of a building could burn.
Sun noticed.
"You're enjoying yourself."
"I enjoy concentrations of enemies."
Guests flowed through the hall in layers of status.
Nobles in embroidered silk.
Sect disciples in disciplined uniforms.
Merchants glittering in gems heavy enough to bend ethics.
Collectors with magnifying lenses.
Smiling parasites.
Beautiful people with dangerous escorts.
Dangerous people pretending beauty was accidental.
Sun tugged at his borrowed sleeve.
"Do I look rich enough?"
Samira adjusted his collar.
"You look expensive and irritated. Perfect."
A silver-haired attendant bowed.
"Lady Dax. Your private gallery awaits."
They were led up a curved staircase lined with display alcoves.
Inside glass cases rested treasures:
A jade spearhead humming faintly.
A fan made from translucent beast wings.
A black pearl larger than Sun's fist.
A sword labeled Heroic Origin Unknown.
Sun pointed.
"That means fake."
The attendant didn't blink.
"It means disputed."
"By reality?"
Samira laughed under her breath.
Their private gallery overlooked the main auction chamber below.
Rows of tiered seating faced a circular stage lit by descending crystal chandeliers. Private boxes ringed the upper levels behind carved screens.
Sun leaned on the railing.
"How many people fit here?"
"Enough greed to crush a town," said Varen.
Workers below arranged pedestals, ledgers, guards, and sealed carts.
A bell rang once.
The crowd hushed by instinct.
Then murmuring resumed immediately because rich people fear silence.
Sun sat beside Brin.
"Can I bid on things I can't afford for emotional reasons?"
"No," said Samira.
"What about symbolic rebellion?"
"No."
"Can I insult prices?"
"Yes," said Brin.
"Excellent."
The auction began with a host gliding onto the stage.
Tall, smooth-haired, immaculate smile.
Voice warm enough to sell winter to fire.
"Honored guests, noble patrons, respected sects, tolerated rivals—welcome."
Applause.
"We begin today with practical lots before moving to rare acquisitions and select opportunities."
Sun whispered, "He sounds like silk learned speech."
Brin grunted agreement.
First lots came quickly:
Silk bundles
Spice crates
Warhorses
Fine steel ingots
Imported wine
Decorative armor for men who feared scratches
Bids flew.
Numbers rose absurdly.
Sun watched a jeweled woman pay enough for six horses to buy a mirror framed in pearls.
"She purchased reflection."
Samira sipped tea.
"She purchased envy."
"Worse."
Then came pills.
Cultivation medicine in lacquer boxes.
Sect disciples straightened.
Prices doubled within breaths.
Sun leaned forward.
"I need those."
"You need money first," said Samira.
Rude but accurate.
Halfway through the hour, attendants rolled out a dusty cart holding miscellaneous "estate remnants."
The host smiled politely.
"For our practical-minded guests, recovered items from abandoned holdings."
Broken statues.
Old books.
Copper tools.
Cracked ornaments.
Mostly junk.
Then Sun's chest tightened.
At the very bottom of the cart lay a dull black stone plate no larger than a tray, etched with nearly invisible spirals.
He stared.
The runed sword on his back hummed once.
System text flashed.
[Unknown Resonance Detected]
[Possible Origin Fragment]
[Recommend Acquisition]
Sun sat upright.
"That."
Samira glanced down.
"The broken tile?"
"That tile is lying."
Varen's eyes narrowed.
"You feel something?"
"Yes."
"Good or bad?"
"Historically, impossible to tell."
The host almost skipped past it.
"Lot forty-seven, assorted debris bundle, opening bid one silver."
Sun raised his hand instantly.
"One."
Several people chuckled.
A man across the chamber wearing scholar robes raised two fingers lazily.
"Two silver."
Sun frowned.
"Who bids on debris?"
"Anyone who noticed you notice it," said Samira.
He looked at her in alarm.
"That's evil."
"That's markets."
Sun raised again.
"Three."
The scholar smiled faintly.
"Five."
Brin whistled.
"You're in a duel over trash."
Sun clenched the rail.
"Ten."
Murmurs spread.
The scholar studied Sun now with real interest.
Then shrugged.
"Twelve."
Sun turned to Samira.
"Lend me pride."
"Costs extra."
"Please."
She sighed theatrically.
"Fifteen."
The scholar paused.
Adjusted his sleeves.
Then smiled and withdrew.
"Sold! Fifteen silver to Gallery Nine."
The gavel struck.
Sun exhaled hard.
Brin stared.
"You just spent fifteen silver on rubble."
Sun sat back proudly.
"On destiny."
Varen murmured, "Or masonry."
When attendants brought the black plate to their gallery, Sun took it carefully.
Cold.
Heavier than stone should be.
The spirals brightened faintly beneath his touch.
System text flashed again.
[Confirmed: Ancient Seal Fragment]
[Contains Residual Destruction Script]
[Do Not Activate Publicly]
Sun swallowed.
"Useful warning."
Samira watched closely.
"Well?"
He smiled slowly.
"I may have bought trouble."
She raised her cup.
"Then you're adapting beautifully."
Below, the host's tone changed.
"Honored guests… we now begin our special lots."
Servants rolled out a covered iron cage.
The crowd leaned forward.
Inside, something growled.
Sun's smile faded.
Varen's eyes sharpened.
And from the neighboring private box came a familiar voice full of spite.
"Enjoy your trash while you can, mountain rat."
Lucan Teryn.
Sun leaned over the divider.
"Enjoy your cousins while they're conscious."
A choking sound suggested Lucan nearly swallowed his own fury.
Then the cloth came off the cage.
Inside crouched a chained girl with silver eyes and beast fangs.
And she was staring directly at Sun.
To be continued...