Empyreal, Book 1

Chapter 17

The barn was dimly lit, with only a few lanterns hanging from the rafters above. The flames flickered, highlighting a hazy glow over the unsavory characters milling about. The air was thick with the scent of hay and livestock, though there was an undertone of something fouler that Malachi couldn't quite place. His greedy eyes scanned the room, taking in the shifty glances and hushed whispers of the attendees. This was not the usual rabble one would find at a country auction. No, these were the dregs of society, the thieves and scoundrels who operated in the darkness.

Malachi strode through the barn, Casper at his side. Though young, Casper had a cunning glint in his brown eyes. He guided Malachi past stalls filled with mysterious crates and bundles draped in cloth. Malachi wondered what illicit treasures lay within, ripe for the taking. His power-hungry nature thrilled at the possibilities.

Casper brought them to a stop before a heavy-set man in a leather apron. "Malachi," he said, "allow me to introduce Mr. Jameson, our host for the evening."

The man looked Malachi up and down. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance," he rumbled in a gravelly voice.

Malachi gave a thin smile. "The pleasure is mine. My young friend tells me you have some intriguing merchandise for sale tonight." His voice was smooth as silk, belying the ruthless intent behind his words.

Mr. Jameson chuckled. "Straight to business. I like that. Take a look around, see if anything strikes your fancy." He gestured to the dark stalls behind him. "Just remember, everything is as-is. No returns or refunds. Are we clear on that?"

"Perfectly clear," Malachi purred. His pulse quickened at the forbidden prospects ahead.

With Casper at his side, he felt certain the night would prove most profitable indeed.

Malachi moved through the stalls, his keen eyes taking in the assortment of goods. Crates of contraband spirits from overseas. Chests of exotic spices and medicinal plants. All highly valuable, yet questionable as to how they were acquired.

Casper trailed behind, quiet as a shadow. He knew better than to interrupt Malachi's perusal.

One bundle in particular caught Malachi's eye - an intricate sword tucked away in the corner. The blade glimmered in the low light, etched with strange symbols. Definitely magical in nature.

Malachi turned to Casper. "Where did he get this?" he asked bluntly. His earlier charm faded away.

Casper shifted, suddenly uneasy. "I don't think..."

Malachi gripped his shoulder. "Where, Casper?"

The boy winced. "I heard he took it off some wizard passing through town. But the man's long gone now, no one knows where."

Malachi's eyes narrowed, his suspicions roused. Powerful magical items didn't just fall into the hands of common smugglers. He had to learn more about this Jameson.

Striding back to where the man waited, Malachi fixed him with an intense stare. "That sword. Tell me how you really acquired it."

Jameson laughed nervously. "Like I said, everything here is as-is."

Malachi stepped closer, radiating veiled menace. "I don't think you understand. I want the truth."

The man licked his lips, intimidated by Malachi's commanding presence. "Alright, alright. I took it off a corpse, not a living man. Came across the poor bastard dead in the road."

Malachi nodded with appeasement and turned to see silver etchings, the spellbinding box swirling across the black stone like veins of quicksilver. Malachi stared, transfixed by its beauty.