Matthew yanked her out of the hall and through the library doors, his sister kicking and yelling every step of the way.

  “Of all the stupid, bone-headed stunts you’ve pulled, Maine,” he shouted, “this one really takes the cake! What were you thinking? Were you even thinking? I can’t believe this!” He grunted as he pulled her forwards.

  Maine set her feet, clawing at his hand with her fingers. “What am I doing? I’m saving this family,” she said between clenched teeth. “You’re the one trying to wreck everything!”

  As he pulled her towards the center of the room, servants scattered out of the way. The great library hall, a soaring, two-story structure, had been converted into temporary storage for the Auction items, and even now, the staff was hard at work on last minute preparations, giving some things a final polish and re-checking tags. Items up for sale today were spread across the tabletops, shelves, and much of the floor, leaving only a few bare lanes of space carved out for the staff to move.

  Kelphin scrambled into the room after Matthew, clutching at the door. “Watch your feet!” he hissed.

  Matthew danced aside, trying to avoid stepping on anything precious. “Sorry, sorry!” He glanced back and saw a few guests peering in behind Kelphin. “Shut the door!”

  The Elf jumped and spun around, his Glamour flashing brightly. “So sorry,” he bowed to them. “Please go ahead and take your seats in the ballroom. The Auction will be beginning shortly.” He snapped his fingers and waved at the staff, who began ushering people back.

  As he started to close the library door, an enormous hand squeezed in and held it open. Dr Paicus poked his head in. “Matthew? Matthew, what’s going on?”

  “Get in!” Matthew waved at him, still struggling with Maine. The Doctor slipped in through the door, having to bow and duck his head to fit inside. As he straightened, another figure darted in behind him, which was an equally tight fit.

  “Not too bad, if I do say so myself,” Fink congratulated himself. He whistled then, looking around the Library. “My oh my! And here’s the crown jewel of the collection!”

  “Mr. Fink!” Kelphin yelled. “This is not the time! And guests are not permitted to be here before-”

  “Guests?” he said in shock. “Why, I’m practically part of the staff now! Didn’t you see how I just saved the Auction?” He laughed, his eyes again traveling around the room hungrily. “I’d say some kind of compensation is in order.”

  “Just close the door!” Matthew yelled again.

  As Paicus shut the door, Matthew turned and gave a hard look at his sister. She stared back defiantly.

  “You’re supposed to be in Delaware till the end of the term,” he snapped. “What happened?”

  Maine sniffed. Her clothes were filthy and torn, her hair matted and as wild as he’d ever seen it. “Did you think I was just going to sit back and school and let this happen?” she asked. “I had to leave! There’s no way I was going to let you sell all of Gran’s things!”

  Matthew let go of her and threw up his hands. “Again? Argh!” He paced for a moment. “How long have you been gone from school this time?”

  Kelphin spoke up hopefully. “Maybe we can get her back before anyone notices?”

  Maine shook her head. “Don’t bother! I left a week ago.” She crossed her arms. “That school’s useless, they don’t teach anything interesting! Just manners, and poise, and-and- dancing!” She almost shook with fury.

  Mathew pulled his hands through his hair. “Right, because manners aren’t something you’d possibly need,” he said in exasperation.

  “They don’t even let us read on our own!” she protested. “I’m not going back!”

  “Maine, how many schools has this been?” Paicus asked, bending down towards her. “Three now? You can’t keep running away.”

  She brushed off his hand and looked pointedly away. “Then send me somewhere I want to go. Some place that’ll teach me what I need!” She suddenly fumbled at her haversack, rummaging through it. “Look! Look, look!” she said, pulling out a crumpled, torn advertisement and waved it at Matthew. He didn’t bother to take it from her and finally Kelphin had to grab it. As he pulled out a pair of spectacles to read, she began to recite it from memory.

  “The New Gorham Institute of Regular Magic is looking for upstanding, moral young men interested in a career in the magical arts! Apply now by post to be a part of this exciting, magical opportunity!” She smacked her dirty, stained palm, her eyes wide with excitement. “It’s perfect for me!”

  They all looked back at her dubiously. “Well,” Kelphin sniffed, adjusting his glasses. “I’ve certainly never heard of this place. Who runs it? And besides…” he trailed off, looking at her.

  “You don’t exactly meet the criteria,” Paicus finished gently.

  “You’re not upstanding,” her brother said.

  “Or moral,” Kelphin admitted.

  “Or male,” Paicus was forced to add.

  She folded her arms angrily. “I’m young!”

  “And foolish, and irresponsible, and I don’t know what else!” Matthew snapped. He grabbed the paper out of Kelphin’s hand and stared at it. The advertisement looked like it had been cut by hand from a newspaper, then creased and wrinkled like it had been folded and unfolded many times over. It showed the outline of young men, wielding staves, surrounded by runes, fighting vague, threatening shapes that to his eyes seemed more than a little to resemble everyday Elders. He frowned, staring down at the paper. “Where did you find this?”

  “It was in the paper,” she explained, as if he was simple. “And I could still go! They could make an exception for me! I’m sure they would!”

  Matthew laughed at her. “After you ran away from your last three schools? Why should they bother?”

  Maine stamped her foot. “They didn’t teach me magic!” she yelled. She looked close to tears, her hands shaking. “If you sent me somewhere I wanted to go, I wouldn’t have run away. Like, Gran’s old school: Salem Academy! You could send me there!”

  “Salem Academy shut down five years ago,” Kelphin reminded her sadly.

  “What about somewhere else?” she asked desperately. “The School of Avalon? Hidden Briar? The Black Forest Academy?”

  “Black Forest,” Kelphin stammered. “That’s all the way in Germany!”

  Matthew pinched the bridge of his nose. “Avalon and Hidden Briar shut down two years ago,” he told her. “And Black Forest isn’t taking on any new students. I know,” he promised, stopping her question. “I checked.”

  “There just aren’t any good magical schools anymore, Maine,” Kelphin told her sadly. “The old arts just aren’t taught anymore.”

  Fink nodded, looking up from his own perusal of some of the artifacts laid out for display. “A sad sign of the times,” he moaned, his hands ducking behind his back, looking suspiciously full. “A world that’s lost its appreciation for the old arts, has lost its way.”

  Both the Maierson’s scowled at him, but Paicus then spoke up. “You can study magic here at home, Maine,” he pointed out. “You don’t have to go to a school for it. There are plenty of private tutors in Old Coney who’d be proud to teach you.”

  “But after you’re done with school.” Matthew stressed.

  She shook her head. “I can’t wait that long!”

  “Why not?” he asked.

  “Because the Factory needs me!” Maine looked scornfully at her brother. “One of us has to be able to do magic!”

  Everyone froze as Matthew stared down at her. Even the staff didn’t dare move. There was a knock on the library door. Miss Imi poked her head inside. “Is everything all right in here? The guests are waiting in the ballroom. What’s taking so long?”

  Kelphin fluttered his hands nervously, heading to the door. “It’s perfectly fine! No trouble!” He hurried her back out the door, following after her. “I’ll just tell them we’ll be starting shortly,” he said, glancing back fearfully at Matthew.

  The door clicked shut behind them. Matthew let out a long, slow breath. “You come in here, and ruin something that took months to plan out,” he started. “Something that we needed!” Maine huffed and looked away, but he only kept going, his voice getting louder. “You don’t care or know about anything that actually goes on in the Factory! Just the flashy bits! Just the magic!” She balled her hands into fists, but Matthew didn’t notice. He was shouting now, not caring as the staff stopped to watch them. “You’re about the most ignorant, pathetic excuse for a sister I’ve ever seen, Charlie!”

  Maine jumped forwards with a yell, swinging wildly. All around the library, all work paused as the staff watched the CEO roll on the floor with his sister, fighting wildly. Paicus gave a long-suffering sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, and moved to separate them. “Children please!” he said, lifting Maine up easily in one hand.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  She swung in the air, hands still reaching out to strangle her brother. Matthew lay on the floor, red in the face and gasping. “At least I’m a real Maierson!” she taunted him. “I don’t know where Gran found you! You can’t even do a simple spell!”

  “Maine!” Paicus scolded her.

  “Let her go!” Matthew said, furious. “Let her go!” He looked like he was ready for another round

  “Matthew!” Paicus barked. “Please try and be the adult here!”

  Another door clicked open behind them. “Go back inside!” Matthew bellowed over his shoulder.

  A smooth, sibilant voice answered him. “Can we save the sibling drama for another day? We have guests waiting.”

  Seward stood by the office door at the other end of the Library. All the other staff instantly snapped to attention, bowing their heads fearfully. He walked towards the struggling siblings, the heels of his polished shoes clicking on the hardwood floor. He wore a dark suit, perfectly styled and fit, accented with a vibrant gold scarf that was draped around his shoulders, the color matching perfectly with his scales.

  Seward’s green, snake-like eyes slid over to Paicus and his thin lips parted. “Doctor Paicus, what a pleasure to see you today,” he said, not particularly sounding like it was one. His forked tongue betrayed only the faintest of hisses. “So glad you could accept our invitation.”

  “Yes,” Paicus frowned, still holding Mathew and Maine apart. “Especially since I must have missed it.”

  The thin slits that passed for Seward’s nose, opened and closed. “Regardless,” he said coldly. “Your presence is always welcome here. Now, Matthew-”

  He didn’t get any farther. An older man in a suit pushed past him, eyes wide with excitement. Ignoring Matthew and Maine, ignoring anything else that was going on, he ran to Paicus, staring him up and down shamelessly.

  “My word! My word!” he said. “A real, live Cyclops! I’ve never seen one of your kind in the flesh before! Extraordinary!” He tugged at his long, white beard, captivated as he stared at the Doctor.

  Paicus looked uncertainly back at him, clearly put off. “Good morning,” he said finally. Glancing at Matthew and Maine first to see that it was safe to let go, he extended a hand to the older gentleman. “Doctor Paicus, how do you do?”

  The old man stared at his hand for a moment, astounded. “A doctor? My word,” he said again. He took the Doctor’s hand, but not to shake, turning it instead, examining his fingers and the folds in his skin. “How did you earn such a title? And what passes for medicine among your kind?”

  “Probaby banging themselves with sticks and rocks,” a rude voice offered. A tall, gangly young man stood behind Seward. He wore a suit and a superious expression, a sneer almost stamped across his features.

  The Doctor gently pulled his hand back. “Actually, I have a doctorate in human medicine,” he told them. “Though I specialize in several additional species. Thirty-seven at last count.”

  The older man clapped his hands, delighted. “Good for you! You’re a credit to your race!” Paicus raised an eyebrow at him.

  Seward bowed slightly and extended his hand, palm up. “This is Mr. Henry Tooland, from the-”

  “From the Bronx Elder Appreciation Society,” Tooland said, reaching into his coat-pocket. He produced a card and thrust it at Paicus, nearly hopping up and down in excitement. “We’re an environmental group! We try to preserve Elder cultures and customs before they vanish off the face of the earth!”

  Paicus took the card without much enthusiasm. “I didn’t know they were in danger of that,” he said dryly.

  “Oh, indeed,” Tooland nodded. “That’s only natural with primitive cultures though.” He looked the Doctor up and down eagerly, as if sizing him up. “How would you like to join our zoo?” he asked suddenly.

  The Doctor looked down at him, speechless. “I’m sorry, what?” Matthew asked.

  “Our zoo!” Tooland began patting his pockets, looking around. “I’ve got a flier for it here somewhere on me. We’ve got quite a little exhibition going, you know. A few wild Imps, a Manticore, and an African Pygmy!” He finally pulled a folded sheet of paper from his pocket, thrusting it at Matthew’s hands.

  It indeed showed Imps and a Manticore in a series of cages, along with a mournful looking black man dressed in cheap leopard skins and cloth. Matthew only had the stomach to look at it for a few moments. He wanted to tear the paper up, but Paicus held out his hand for it. After a moment’s hesitation, Matthew passed it over.

  “How dare you!” Maine started to sputter, but Paicus held up his hand, cutting her off.

  “Oh, have no fear, it’s a top notch facility,” Tooland assured her. “Three meals a day, a rock bed, and every amenity that you’d expect to find in the wild.” He beamed with pride. “We might even be adding a Troll soon!” he let on. “Getting a Cyclops as well would put the rest of the boys over the moon!” He clapped his hands. “Oh, they’ll be so jealous I got to talk to you first!”

  “I imagine they will be,” Paicus told him, his voice amazingly calm. He folded the flier neatly and Tooland held out his hand, but instead the Doctor tucked it away in his own pocket. “Well, sir, you can let them know that I happily accept your offer.”

  “What?” Matthew said

  “You do?” Maine asked.

  Tooland’s face broke into a huge grin. “Wonderful! We’ll get you moved in-”

  Paicus raised his hand. “I accept on one condition, sir. I work, well, worked,” he corrected, “at Brooklyn Hospital, a prominent teaching institution. And one thing that we’re always running short of in the hospital is volunteers.” He smiled slightly. “I’ll happily accept if you volunteer to act as instructional aid.”

  Tooland stared back at him. “Volunteer? Do you mean, like work?” he asked, pronouncing the word like it was a foreign language. “But I don’t know any medicine.”

  “Indeed.” Without warning he bent down and laid a hand on Tooland’s chest and stomach, probing with his fingers. “But they always need volunteers to demonstrate difficult medical procedures on,” he told him. “And you seem to have all the necessary organs.” He nodded, smiling. “Yes, quite healthy for your age. You’ll do nicely. I imagine they’ll be able to demonstrate any number of times on you, as long as they put things back where they find them.”

  He smiled at the now pale and trembling man. “What do you think? Can I tell the Hospital to look forward to your call?”

  “Ah, well, maybe,” Tooland stammered, his eyes darting around the room. “Maybe we can come up with a different arrangement.” He began to edge backwards, away from the Doctor. “We wouldn’t want to trouble you any.”

  Paicus watched him dart back behind Seward, running to the sneering young man’s side. “Such a shame,” he said coolly.

  The sneering young man laughed. “I’m Harry Trimble, the Second,” he said proudly, not waiting for an introduction. He wore a new suit, badly; cut just a little too big for his size. Regardless, he preened as if he were the best dressed man in the room, thrusting his thumbs behind his suspenders and looking down his nose at them. “You’ve probably heard of my father.”

  Matthew folded his arms. “Can’t say that I have.” There was a winking, golden pin on Trimble’s chest, catching the light. It took a moment for Matthew to realize what it was, but then he saw the crossed hammer emblem. He looked suddenly at the Doctor and saw Paicus staring back at him.

  “The senior Mr. Trimble,” Seward informed them, “owns a number of factories that produce women’s clothing-”

  “We do not!” Trimble exploded suddenly. He folded his arms and huffed. “We produce fashionable one-piece suits and casual frocks.”

  “-my mistake,” Seward corrected, and Trimble slowly settled down. “He’s made a generous offer on several items up for sale today, before the Auction starts.”

  Matthew looked over in surprise. “What?”

  Trimble leered at them. “My Father’s starting a collection. We only get the finest things, you know? And we don’t like bidding against anyone else.”

  Matthew stared from him to Seward, who gave a small nod. He removed a small envelope from his jacket and held it up. “We’ve just finished negotiations on the final price,” he started to say.

  Matthew held out his hand. “Let me see that.” Before Seward could hand it over, Fink suddenly darted forwards, snatching the envelope away.

  “Oh my my my,” he said, his sharp yellow eyes scanning through the contents quickly. “What a generous offer indeed! You have quite the eye.” The young man beamed, thumbing his pin at the room again. “I had no idea you were so interested in Elder weaponry.”

  “Well, we’re big game hunters, you know,” Trimble laughed. “We’re also branching out - getting out of clothes and into weapons.” He suddenly gave Matthew a very strange expression, almost hungry. “All kinds of weapons, you know? The deadlier the better!”

  Matthew ignored him. “Here,” he said, taking the paper back from Fink. He ran his eyes down the page. It was quite an extensive list, and nearly all weapons: Elven knives and arrows, enchanted swords, Goblin axes and picks. The list went on and on and as his eyes came to the final figure, his jaw fell open.

  “Yes,” Seward said. “His final offer was too good to pass up.” He turned and snapped his fingers. All around the library, the staff jumped to attention. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll have the staff set your pieces aside.” He turned to Trimble and bowed smoothly. “They’ll be shipped out to you as soon as possible, sir. Thank you again for your patronage.”

  Trimble started to smile, but Matthew cleared his throat. “Hold on a second,” he told him.

  “Sir?” Seward asked. It wasn’t a question so much as a warning.

  Mathew ignored it however. He took a breath and then tore the paper up into pieces, letting them fall to the floor. “I’m sorry,” he shook his head. “I can’t agree to this. If Mr Trimble wants these pieces, he’s going to have to bid on them just like everyone else.”

  Trimble stared as the scraps of paper fell. “What the hell are you playing at, Maierson?” he exploded. “We had a deal!”

  “Not with me,” Matthew told him. Trimble was a few inches taller than him, and probably outweighed him by a good twenty pounds, but Matthew jammed his finger at the man’s chest and stuck out his chin. “I’ve got final say on all arrangements. Including who we sell to!”

  Trimble looked like he was about to blow. Before he could say anything, Seward suddenly stepped between them. Matthew found himself staring into those cold, reptilian eyes.

  “Perhaps we could speak privately. Sir,” Seward suggested tightly, his hissing more pronounced now. He laid a scaly hand with manicured talons on Matthew’s arm, but he shook it off.

  “I don’t think so,” Matthew told him. The staff around the room held their breath, watching.

  There was a knock on the library door, but no one thought to open it.

  Seward turned smoothly and bowed again to Trimble. “Pardon the confusion, sir,” he said, smiling once more. “If you’ll please follow me out to the ballroom, I’ll find you a choice seat where you can join the rest of the Auction. I’m sure a man of your means will still be able to-”

  “No!” Matthew said. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want him bidding at all. Get him out of here.”

  “What? You’ve got to be joking!” Trimble shouted.

  The knock came again from the door, louder and more insistent. Paicus, turned, curious.

  “You seem to be changing your mind often today, sir,” Seward hissed at Matthew. The anger in his voice was plain for all to see now. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to lie down and let me take over for you?”

  “No, I think I’m good,” Matthew snarled back, not caring that the staff was listening. He adjusted his jacket and looked coldly at Trimble. “Please escort Mr Trimble and his associate from the premises,” he told Seward. “He’s not welcome here today.”

  Trimble was breathing heavily. It looked for a moment like he was about to take a swing at Matthew, but finally he turned on his heels. “C’mon Toolie,” he snapped, jerking his head towards the door. “Let go.” Tooland jumped, and scurried in front of him. Trimble looked back though, giving Matthew one last, contemptuous sneer.

  “Looks like my Father was right,” he remarked. “Not all rats know when to leave a sinking ship.”

  Tooland pulled the door open and hurried forwards, only to jump back in sudden surprise. “My word!”

  “What is it now?” Matthew shouted, looking towards the door.

  Tooland backed into the room, his hands raised to the ceiling. Behind him, came a masked woman, holding a large pistol in her hands. And behind her, came several others, all masked and carrying guns.

  “Good Morning, Mr Maierson,” she said to the stunned room. She pulled the hammer back on her pistol, and even though she was masked, Matthew could tell she was smiling. “We’re here to bid, on behalf of Old Coney. Want to hear our offer?”