The man Black Hand as he referred to himself came to stand beside Nate. His presence did not feel hostile nor did he exude the power Nate had become accustomed to among those with magic. In fact it grew odd to him that he could not sense nor feel any magic from the man that now stood gazing down at the purple dressed spirits.

  A smile played at his lips, the bemused expression led the queen-like spirit to shoot him deathly stares. If not for her confined state it was without doubt she would be in the middle of assaulting the man. The once kind look she’d given to the pixie was gone. Nate hadn’t the foggiest clue why.

  “Hello, Mr. Black Hand.”

  “Just Hand or Black is fine. No need to be so formal. Being that way isn’t my style.

  “I see.”

  Before a silence could settle into the room or for Nate to escape the man pulled free a single plain white card. He offered it out gingerly. His smile shifted from playful to be more genuine. The small Plague Queen let out a huff of frustration.

  “My card, for a young necromancer, is often not talent but connections that they lack.”

  “Thank you.”

  The man tut tuted at his words of thanks. The card was simple with black ink read “Black Hand PMC” along with an inky black hand design. Nate found it lacked a phone number or address. It was placed into his pocket as he wondered how someone would be able to get into contact without it.

  “What was so pleasing?”

  Nate couldn’t resist asking his own curiosity getting away from him. The man’s weird mannerisms might seem normal for Necromancers, if that's what he even was. His height and ear showed he wasn’t some normal human.

  Black Hand turned back to the purple spirits with a mischievous grin on his face. Since meeting the man he seemed incapable of dropping his smile. With a fluid soundless motion he squatted down, coming eye level to the queen. Her cheeks puffed in frustration as purple light flickered off her body.

  “It is because of this little spirit here. She’s a rare one if you can believe it.”

  “Very rare indeed.”

  “Tis nothing to feign knowledge over. This is a Blight Queen. Once she was a full and loving mother to all things in nature. Then she allowed the seeds of the Blight to infect her, spreading roundly to her court, knights, and even the land. They are vicious spirits which contraindicatory do not often kill humans.”

  “They don’t kill humans? Wouldn’t being corrupt mean she kills humans?”

  “Corruption? For the environment oh most certainly. As for humans, they have it in their minds that humans are the biggest cause of pollution. Why attack those who are working on your side. Personally I think they’ve fallen for propaganda. It’s all the druids chatter.”

  “So you're close to nature?”

  Nate’s question brought a bemused smile to the man’s face. He rose from his squat, the motion taking his singular ear out of view. An appraising gaze passed over Nate. It was an uncomfortable feeling for him as he felt his eyes circling around his muscles and then the core of his being.

  “Interesting. I would expect a necromancer to be weaker then this. Good, good. Personally I hate nature, being born with the blood of a wolf it clings to me like a skunk. I can tell you from experience keeping a skunk around is not ideal when it's constantly chasing you around. All the better to avoid if you catch my drift.”

  “Uh, thanks for the advice."

  The man reached down and lifted up the smaller of the purple dressed women. The Queen gave out an outraged roar which was inaudible through the glass. Small circular motions sent the woman nearly tumbling as she tried to balance herself against the assault. Round and round the bottle swirled.

  “I wouldn’t recommend that Blight Queen. She is clearly not corrupted enough. Showing interest in your little rescue there and then being concerned about a simple vassal. It's probably why it's one of two. Just can’t be separated from its last remaining family. At least until it starts a new brood. It’s what they're best at, popping out more and more corrupted creatures to throw at a problem.”

  “Being less corrupted is a bad thing?”

  The man reached out, took Nate's hand and gently placed the small blightling into his palm. Finally released from his swirling attacks she breathed clearly and backed away as close to the wall as she physically could. Pressing desperately into Nate's direction. He could feel fluctuations of her power through the cool glass.

  “It is when it comes to the spells and powers she might offer. Plague or blight expansion is a common spell to gain from their kind. Imagine corrupting or killing a wide swath of low rank spirits with a single spell. It would weaken anything on its level as well.”

  “Why wouldn’t everyone have one then?”

  “Price, rarity, and compatibility. If I put her into my Spirit Hold do you think my nature would let her thrive or would it slowly poison me? Everything has a price.”

  Nate gently pulled the Blight Vassal to his side. The small woman called now that she was brought against his chest. Hands now completely full he was in a way completely defenceless. The man peered down at him before Nate noticed his ear twitch this way and that way. Wolfish eyes fixed Nate into his spot. The overly friendly manner seemed ready to drop at a moment's notice.

  “Won’t you come work with me? I mean if you don’t have a proper master I could take you under my wing. Could set you up real nice with these fine specimens. A blight wielding Necromancer is practically a one man army in the outer districts. You’d be perfect for any of the Swallowed Cities.”

  Nate was taken aback by his sudden offer. It went without saying he couldn’t just go off and work for a strange man. At the same time he never did have his question answered. So he pushed forward.

  “Was the reason that it was a heart warming scene that she cared? From how you talked, this isn’t a good option because of it.”

  “Haha, yes that was the case. How heart warming they were being? I myself care for my employees deeply if you want a job.”

  “I don’t believe he’s quite ready for that.” Wayne’s voice cut in.

  Black Hand took a step back, a hand that Nate hadn’t noticed drifting back from touching his shoulder. The blight vassal breathed a sign of relief. Turning its gaze onto Nate and scrutinizing his face closely. She was searching to make sure he was alright, in quite the earnest manner.

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  “Oh my, it seems I’ve been caught trying to get into the cookie jar. My apologies Sir Tinker. Great apologies for interfering.”

  “It has been some time since anyone called me that. Black Hand? Tyrant was just telling me about your impressive capture rate.” Wayne replied neutrally.

  The long corridors stretched and pulled around the teacher as the distance between the front desk and the spirit aisle reduced to zero. Nate had returned along with all of the spirits to the front of the store. The skull on the counter top had receding green flames pulling back into the eye cavities.

  “Yes, the Swallowed City provides an abundance for hunters such as myself. Take this little queen here. She was part of my recent expedition.”

  Plucking the queen from her spot the man haphazardly tossed her into the air toward Wayne. He was unfazed by the action, catching the small woman with ease and letting her dangle between his fingers. Neither of the men seemed to care about the sheer state of panic she’d been in as she sailed through the air. It rubbed Nate the wrong way.

  “An impressive haul. Blight Queens aren’t the easiest to catch. I commend you on your hunt.”

  “It is much appreciated, good sir. These ones just didn’t have that killing instinct one would normally encounter. It was a bore of a fight. Here, for you young necromancer. On the house. I’ll have more if you come my way.”

  Black Hand pulled out a small palm sized book and placed it dexterously on top of the Blight Vassal’s cork. With a small bow he bypassed Wayne and reached the counter. Several stalks of green herbs were pulled out by a friendly looking woman. She was middle aged with a white shirt that covered a generous chest, the ensemble continued down to the skirt which was a mixed pattern of reds and yellows.

  The skull crackled to life beginning to converse with Black Hand but it was unintelligible. Clear waves of magic pulsed out from the two as Wayne drew close to Nate. He reached out and took the book from his student.

  “Did you reveal anything about yourself?” Wayne asked.

  “Not that I’m aware of sir. He mostly talked about himself.”

  “You weren’t to speak with anyone but it’s fine. Tyrant says he’s not a bad man. He even left you a nice gift. The least he could do for trying to poach you right in front of me.”

  Nate sat the Vassal down and Wayne traded the book for the pixie. A small book just big enough to fit within one's pocket. The title was “Plague Land Field Notes”. Nate thought it might be helpful if he ever traveled to the location but didn’t see what his teacher saw in it. His inexperience with such things was being slightly overlooked by his teacher.

  “Is there something useful within?”

  Wayne gave him a displeased eye before flipping open the book to a page detailing a magic circle. It wasn’t the most effectively drawn thing and would need clarification. Still a magic circle was needed for magic and giving it away seemed crazy to Nate. The price clearly did not match the transgression.

  “Now if you end up with that Blight Queen you’ll be able to use the wide area corruption spell.”

  “Doesn’t that ability come already within the queen?”

  “No, all spells are cast through magic circles. This includes things like the teeth you’ve been using from your new contract. Some spirits come with magic circles embedded within their bodies but not all of them. A third grade spirit normally has a single magic spell within their body. From grade three the number of spells increases.”

  “So in the case of the Blight Queen she doesn’t have a wide area corruption spell but instead just a normal one?”

  Wayne’s shifted positively. His student was lenient but at the same time he was quick to pick up on things. If only that was more valuable than the willingness to kill. How many of his own men and their families would be spared?

  “Yes, and the spawn spell. These take form in the shape of more natural powers when used by their host. When studied and utilized by others their power is reduced. It's what gives us the edge over the wizards and mages. This spell here has a slot for the implementation of the corruption spell.”

  The Black Hand finished his business at the counter and gave the skull a bow. As he stepped toward the entrance he stopped, lowering a bow to Wayne. His sharp black eyes then turned to Nate and gave a serious nod. On his lips as he did so was a playful smile which Nate took to be his real self. He swept out toward the door.

  As he existed from the right side, the left door pushed open. A man dressed in oversized robes, a monocle over one eye, and short brown hair. Black Hand spotted the man and rushed faster out of the open door.

  “BLACK HAND. Don’t you dare run from me. I’ll show you who’s best.”

  The tail end of his words trailed off after Black Hand as he disappeared. His side showed a scene quite different to where Nate and his teacher had entered. Sand rushed in along with the strong wind that swallowed up the man. It was by chance that the new customer was coming from the same entry located in ViewVille. Just beyond he could hear the rumble of motorcycle engines.

  “Damn it slipped away again. He just can’t handle that I’m the better hunter.”

  WIthout delay and lacking any decorum he strode to the counter. Clutched under his left arm was a large brown brief case. Nate could feel a strong plume of energy emanating from the case. Given what he knew of the place it was clear the man was here to sell his wares.

  “Blue robe, brown hair… Oh you must be my eleven o’clock.” The skull clacked out.

  “I haven’t the time for small talk. I have what I brought to sell and want to be on my way.”

  The man's voice was nasally and unrestricted from the silencing magic from before. Nate looked closely at his face, noticing where a broken nose had never been properly set. It blemished an otherwise average face, giving it a weathered appeal.

  “My apologies dear customer but a VIP has arrived. You will be made to wait till twelve or at which time I deem you may hawk your wares.”

  “Who in the world takes president over a class four Necromancer? Don’t you know who I am?”

  “Don’t you know who you're speaking to?”

  Wayne, surprised Nate, as he had come forward, clearly angry. It wasn’t a common sight for Nate. Having been with his teacher for such a limited time this seemed uncharacteristic. His calm cool demeanor breaking either meant he was truly upset or that he was planning something. Nate caught a glint of pink within the eyes of the skull.

  “Dear customer I cannot divulge the pedigree of my esteemed guests please understand.”

  The Skulls' words fell on deaf ears as the man's anger had found its true target. Which Wayne seemed to welcome with a deep glee. Had the skull and his teacher planned this all along? It seemed ridiculous that someone could predict the man seeing Black Hand as he left. Nate hoped it was a spur of the moment plan.

  “So your the guy who’s messing with my trade time? Don’t you know not to cut in line?”

  “And don't you know how to respect your elders? I’m here just getting my student one of his first spirits. Don’t you know how precious that is?”

  “I don’t give a damn what you're here for this is my time slot.”

  “Not anymore.”

  The man took a threatening stance opposite Wayne but it went no further as the skull's flames plumed into the air. Green fire ran out to fill the whole room. The dragon in the center of the flames stirred giving out an angered cry. A long spiked tail slapped unhappily against the cage. The man stopped his pursuit.

  “I may have misspoken to the tyrant but you have no right to skip me.”

  “Fine, if you feel so incensed over the matter why not a wager?”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Why not a friendly match with my student? If you win you can have your spot back.”

  “He sure looks strong but what you look like doesn’t matter much in our world. What do you get if you win?”

  “You came to sell, correct? Give up one of the spirits within your case at least a grade three.”

  “Ha, you want me to fork over my goods for something like that?”

  He paused for a long time. Wayne didn’t push the man on the subject. Nate could feel magic in the case and he expected any magically prone person could. However, his teacher had pointed out it was spirits being sold and not anything else. That rattled the man. He had caught on that whoever it was that stood before him was not someone he wanted to fight. Would that fear apply to some lowly apprentice?

  “Grade two, and it's a bet.”

  “We’ll see about that, let's discuss the conditions.”

  In what followed no opinion or statement was asked nor wanted from Nate. This ruse being placed upon the man relied on him succeeding but he’d been roundly excluded. From the plan's inception all the way up till the crucial step of him having to fight the man.