She sent him off with a wave and a smile, turning back to the notices as Jason took his to the front desk. It was listed as a straightforwards monster hunt, for a monster called a fergax. Jason looked it up on his monster archive tablet. It was listed as a highly aggressive, bear-like creature. High strength, moderate speed and fortitude, no exotic abilities.
“Morning, Bert,” Jason greeted Albert at the contract registry desk.
“Good morning, Mr Asano,” Albert said. “Quite the kerfuffle we have going on today.”
“So I’ve seen,” Jason said. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything about it?”
“Oh, I’m a bit low on the ladder to know about that, Mr Asano,” Albert said. “I imagine you’d know more than I. Weren’t you part of that expedition out in the desert?”
“I was,” Jason said. “They didn’t tell us grunts much, which I’m realising isn’t something I’m comfortable with. I’ll need to be more judicious in what I’m willing to participate in.”
Albert nodded at the notice in Jason’s hands.
“Speaking of choosing contracts, Mr Asano,” he said. “What have you got there?”
Jason handed over the notice. “Can you tell me why this one is two-stars?”
Albert gave it a glance.
“Ah, I know this one,” he said. “It’s a bit of an unusual contract. Do you know anything about the fergax, Mr Asano?”
“Just what’s in the Magic Society archive.”
“Well, there isn’t much else to a fergax,” Albert said. “Simple creatures, not too bright. Very aggressive, which makes them easy to find. Usually they spawn in the driest parts of the delta, where it’s actually possible to grow some lumber-worthy trees.”
“That’d make it some of the most valuable land in the delta, right?”
“Indeed it would, sir,” Albert said. “People get real fastidious when it comes to land rights, out there. Most times the laws are whatever the richest person nearby says they are, but the land rights for the lumber region are heavily regulated.”
“What’s different about this contract?”
“There’s a fellow who owns a lumber mill out there,” Albert said. “Been around long enough to know a fergax when he spots one. Every time we send someone out there, though, no fergax. No deaths, no damage which is pretty much how you track a fergax. The mill owner has registered a sighting eight times in three months, even pushed a nice incentive on it. People keep taking the contract, going out, and not finding a thing. It’s reached the point where the Society is about ready to black-mark him.”
“Black-mark?”
“That means he won’t be able to register contracts.”
“I can’t imagine that would be good for someone who relies on land out in the delta.”
“I don’t imagine so. Might even be legal repercussions, with those regulations I mentioned. Couldn’t say for certain, with it not really being my area.”
Jason frowned, thoughtfully.
“Whose area is it?”
Bert thought it over for a moment.
“I guess that would be the folks at the Civic Records Hall.”
“Thanks, Bert. Put me down for the contract; I’m taking it.”
Jason didn’t immediately set out for the delta. His first stop was the Civic Authority Records Hall & Library in the guild district. After paying a small fee for access and a moderate bribe for assistance, he found what he was after. As he was about to leave, he turned to his bribed functionary.
“Oh, and Miss?” he said. “Do be sure not to tell anyone that I was here, or what I was here for. Only you and I know that, so if I find out that someone else knows, I’ll know it was you.”
He walked right up to her, pushing down on her aura with his own. She stood there, shivering slightly as he leaned forwards to whisper in her ear.
“It doesn’t matter who you tell, because they can’t protect you from me. The Mercer family can shield you if I try to get you censured for having loose lips, but that isn’t what’s going to happen. One day, all your colleagues here will wonder why you didn’t turn up. Your family will wonder where you’ve gone, but they’ll never find out. Do you know why?”
“Be… because you’ve killed me?”
“I doubt you have any idea what my powers do, so I’ll explain the portions that are relevant to you. First, your body will die. Not of anything; it’ll just stop being alive. Then, I’ll suck all the moisture out of your corpse. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but life force is a beautiful, vibrant red. I’ll be taking any that your body has left, which will dry out your remains, nicely. Then I’ll collect you in a cask. Not a big one, because there won’t be much of you left, but I have a dimensional storage space, so it’s fine either way. Whatever remnants there are, I’ll clean off the floor with crystal wash. Are you familiar with it? Marvellous stuff, but hard to afford if you’re not making adventurer money. Suffice to say, it will clean up any residual stains of what used be your body. Then, on my next trip out to the delta, I’ll scatter what’s left of you, scoop by scoop, into the bogs and marshes, until your final resting place is just sticky patches of mud.”
He stepped back, flashing her a friendly smile.
“So let’s just make it our little secret, yes?”
“Absolutely not,” Clive said. Jason had found him in the chaos of his disorganised study.
“It’s for a contract,” Jason said.
“I don’t care if it’s for the god of generosity,” Clive said. “Those records are anonymous, and they stay anonymous. Even Lucian Lamprey wouldn’t violate that, and he’s as rotten as three-week meat.”
“Who?”
“Lucian Lamprey,” Clive said. “Branch director of the Magic Society here in Greenstone.”
“Never met the man. I guess I shouldn’t complain about your reticence; I should applaud integrity wherever I can find it.”
“There’s no telling if we would have a record of the power you’re looking for, anyway,” Clive said. “Not everyone records their powers with the Magic Society.”
“Fair enough,” Jason said. “What about a ritual that shows me if a summoning was used in an area?”
“A regular, essence ability summoning?” Clive asked. “I can do you one better. How does a ritual sound that not only shows what was summoned, but takes an aura imprint of the summoner and puts it on a tracking stone? You’d need to be right on the site of the summoning, and within maybe half a day of the summoning, though.”
“Clive, I could kiss you.”
“Please don’t.”
“How about this?” Jason said. “If you can’t tell me who has the ability, can you tell me everything the Magic Society has about an ability?”
“I could,” Clive said, “but why would I bother? Don’t you have the magic tablet that can access all the Magic Society’s public records on powers? You know we sell them, right?”
“Oh yeah,” Jason said. The same list that showed restricted essences had records on everything the Magic Society knew about individual powers. Jason looked up the power he was interested in on his tablet.
“Standard salt circle,” he read. “No worries. Hunt me up a copy of that tracking ritual, Clive, and I’ll be out of your hair.”
“Why would you be in my hair?” Clive asked as he started looking through bookshelves.
“It’s just a saying,” Jason said. “It means I’m tangled up in your business in an annoying manner.”
“You don’t need my hair for that,” Clive said. “You have a natural talent.”
“Harsh,” Jason said with a wince.
“Did you hear anything about what’s coming next after capturing all those sand pirates?” Clive asked, still looking for a copy of the ritual.
“Not much,” Jason said. “Apparently everything is under wraps until they figure out what to do next.”
“Well, I hope they don’t need as many drivers, whatever they do,” Clive said. “I’ve been trying to figure out who that ancient complex belonged to. As I thought, I’ve been cut out of the investigation in favour of Lamprey’s favourites. Of course, the skill books we extricated may have slipped my mind.”