Chapter 17: The Reno Auction

by inkadmin

At ten-thirty the next morning, Thomas drove up to Stateline Park and found Zach sitting on a grassy rise, meditating.

Parking, Thomas got out. He was already frazzled and ran a hand through his hair with a scowl. He hadn’t even had time to take a shower that morning. “Hey, sorry I’m late. I had to get my nephews ready for school and drive them there, which was a whole thing. My brother wasn’t…” He sighed. “He wasn’t feeling up to it today.”

Derek had shut himself in his room, apparently not willing to deal with his three loud, obnoxious boys. Thomas had once again picked up the slack, though he’d told his brother in no uncertain terms that he wouldn’t be around to do the same this afternoon. Derek had to handle the pickup after school, hand or no hand, and Ashton was not allowed to drive for him.

Thomas hated taking that tone with his brother. Hated being stern with an injured man and telling him to get it together. But Derek had been stunned by the loss of his hand and was acting like his life was over. It was bad, but he had three kids to take care of and he had to pull it together. Thomas just wasn’t sure if he had it in him to do it.

Hopefully, there wouldn’t be a need, and Thomas would find something that could help him in this auction.

Oblivious to his spiraling thoughts, Zach opened his eyes, stretched, and said, “Oh, I didn’t notice you were late,” in a totally calm way.

“Yeah, well, we still have plenty of time to make it to the auction,” Thomas said, awkwardly.

“Sweet.” Standing, Zach walked to the car.

Am I high-strung or is Zach just crazy calm? Thomas wondered. He suspected it was a little of both.

The trip down the hill to the Nevada side wasn’t anything Thomas hadn’t done hundreds of times before. South Lake Tahoe was too small of a town to fit most big-box stores, so the locals took regular trips for major shopping.

Zach was a decent conversationalist, though he did have a habit of flipping a small ball of fire around his knuckles as if it were a coin. They mostly kept to small talk, and of course, mana.

“I was able to get some air whites last night to mix with my A-grade red,” Zach commented. “But the whites were only level 1 D-grades, so I’ve got a long way to go. The mana inside is burning to get out, bro. You have no idea.”

Thomas glanced aside at him to make sure that little ball of fire remained in control. It was. “Why do you need air mixed with fire? Won’t that, uh, fan the flames?”

Zach cocked his head. “Nah, it’s like the air cools it. The fire will sort of spin out of control if there’s nothing anchoring it down, you know?”

He shook his head. “To be honest, my mana doesn’t affect me like that.”

“You sure? No new need to, like, heal people?”

Thomas started to laugh because no, he was definitely not the doctor or nurse type—

Then he stopped as he was hit with the fact he was currently headed to an auction he’d only heard about through word-of-mouth in a sketchy city he’d already been warned off about. All to find a way to fix his brother’s hand.

But there was nothing strange about that, right? Any other brother would do the same… right?

He was driving straight to a situation that might somehow expose his Gift on the slim chance he might find a cure.

“I don’t know,” Thomas admitted.

Zach nodded as if that made perfect sense.

When the announcement about the System integration came out a couple weeks ago, the American government had made a whole big deal about the economy continuing on as normal, with strict—and possibly unconstitutional—penalties to anyone who challenged that.

Government threats aside, the roads were suspiciously clear in a way that reminded Thomas of the pandemic.

On the plus side, they made good time. The auction was located at the downtown convention center, and they only hit a little traffic as they approached.

“Looks like word of this shindig got out,” Zach said mildly.

That was an understatement.

The sidewalk two blocks out from the convention center on either side was absolutely packed with protesters. Many had angry, flushed faces and were shouting “Earth first!” while waving signs with various slogans:

No dungeons. No monsters. No lies.

Keep your levels off our planet.

World Integration = Government Scam.

And of course the ever-popular: Wake Up Sheeple.

Thomas read one sign in stark disbelief. “‘We didn’t vote for the System?’ The Hell? What makes them think that,” he gestured vaguely upward. It was a clear blue day and the ever-present System announcement hung there, plainly visible, “gives them any sort of vote?”

Zach snorted. “Guess you haven’t been following the news?”

“Uh, a little of it. Why?”

Leaning back, Zach casually waved at a man who was screaming curses with his whole chest at passing cars. “This whole thing has brought out the usual batch of weirdos, plus now people who are scared and have decided that means the System Integration isn’t real. Or it’s a trick.”

Thomas winced. “They’re all going to be screwed if they don’t wise up in the next five and a half months. The System’s coming no matter what, and they’ll be starting way behind everyone else.”

“Yep,” Zach agreed. “I don’t know what’s coming exactly, but they’ll be in deep trouble and will probably be at the mercy of stronger people to save them. I just feel bad for them, especially the kids they’re dragging along.”

Thomas had been trying not to focus on that detail because many of the protestors had brought their entire families, and the children seemed to be having fun waving the signs.

Thankfully, the auction officials had security keeping protestors out and cars moving into the fenced-off parking lot.

Once parked, they got out and joined a line of about twenty people. There were no National Guardsmen visible or any police presence he could see. That was interesting. Who was running this thing?

To Thomas’s relief, no one asked for an ID or credit card—just five dollars cash to get in.

“All right, hold out your hand,” the entrance attendant said.

Thomas did, expecting a stamp like the kind he’d received at county fairs. Instead, the lady passed a small machine over his hand that immediately beeped twice.

He jerked his hand back. “What’s that?”

The attendant just raised an eyebrow at him. “This says you’re a level two, which means you get the special band. Come on now, hold out your arm.” She said the last bit in a sarcastic, coaxing way, as if he were a reluctant child. “It won’t hurt a bit.”

Feeling silly, Thomas complied, and she snapped a red band onto his wrist. He noticed that the group next to him had blue bands.

“Gray is for level zeros with their Gifts still undiscovered,” the attendant said, pointing to a sign Thomas had completely missed. “Blues are for level ones, reds are for level twos, and purples are for level threes.”

He blinked in surprise. “There have been level threes?”

“Not yet,” she said with a wink. “But the day’s still young. Head on in, boys.”

The inside looked like a larger version of the Crystal Flea Market. In addition to the main auction, various vendors had set out stalls selling items, information, and gear.

One in front had a long line in front of a lady who could have been Miss Cleo’s sister. She was promising an accurate prediction of someone’s Gifts, no dungeon entrance required, for the low price of $249.99.

“Let’s get our shard appraised first,” Thomas said, hooking a thumb toward a sign proclaiming: Appraisals.

Zach nodded.

They followed the signs to the auction house appraisal booth. The line was short, and an extremely bored-looking man greeted them with a prepared statement.

“Appraisals cost level 1 crystals per item. Any color, C-grade or higher.”

Thomas dropped a C-grade blue on the table.

Embarrassingly enough, he hadn’t had time to get a replacement backpack yet, so all he had to carry his mana crystals and daggers was a fanny pack. He felt so very cool at that moment.

The man glanced at the crystal, nodded when he saw the grade, and said, “Okay, what do you got?”

Thomas pushed the shard over.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

The man’s eyelid twitched slightly as if he hadn’t expected the man with the fanny pack to produce a serious item. “All right, one moment.” Then, turning, he signaled for someone in the back to come forward.

The woman who took his seat was older, with gray ringlets in her hair. In stark contrast, she was bubblingly enthusiastic. “Hello, dears,” she practically sang. “I should let you two know that my Gift is to read shards. Do you mind?”

She didn’t wait for Thomas to agree before picking up the shard and holding it to the light. “Oh, this is nice: Minor Ember of Life. This is a support/healing skill. Using water, earth, or healing mana, you can either refresh someone, restore their stamina, or heal up small injuries—depending on what you use.” She glanced at them. “Keep in mind this is a minor skill, so whatever you apply won’t have a big effect. Think of it as healing a sprain and not stitching up a giant gash.”

“Hold up,” Zach said, sounding surprised. “You can use different types of mana for different effects?”

“Oh, dearie, yes. It’s common for many skills. That’s why you should think carefully about the type of mana you absorb. Different types can make different skills do wildly different things.” She said the last part in a sing-song voice, as if she’d repeated it many times.

Zach nodded and leaned back with a smile as if he’d just had something confirmed.

She went on. “Now, you have a couple options. The National Guard booth over there—” she pointed with a long fingernail to a section of the building on the right, “will take it off your hands for a flat price. Our auction will certainly take this too, and you can try your luck getting a better price. I can’t officially say anything, but since it’s a support/healing skill, I’d wager it will get more attention. Everyone loves a healing skill, even if it’s a minor one.”

Thomas could use that skill too, but he had only one slot for his level, and he wasn’t going to add a minor skill to it.

He and Zach exchanged a look, and Thomas said, “We’ll put it in the auction.”

“Excellent.” She pulled out a contract and outlined the terms. The cost for entering any item was a C-grade mana crystal, which seemed fair. The cost was higher if they wanted to add a no-sale price, meaning they’d get their skill shard back if the bidding didn’t hit a certain target. They decided to try their luck without one.

Thomas paid the cost out of the loot he and Zach had won yesterday. Then, they and the lady all pressed their thumbs to the contract to inject their mana. Interestingly, Zach did not need the contract process explained to him.

“Oh, a healer!” the lady said, seeing Thomas’s mana signature. “I’m surprised you didn’t keep this little beauty for yourself.”

“I have something bigger in mind.”

“Well, our auction is at three o’clock, but you don’t have to stick around for it. Now that we have your mana contract, you can return at any point after 5 PM until 11 PM for your payout, or during regular business hours through the rest of the week.”

They thanked her and walked off.

“Let’s look at the auction stuff first,” Thomas said. There was a large sign in the back of the room proclaiming today’s auction items, with more being added—like theirs—by the minute.

But they’d only taken about two steps before he was immediately sidetracked by the next table over, which had several clear cases secured with heavy chains. Inside those cases glinted skill shards.

Underneath each case was a label for the level 1s who didn’t have basic System access yet. But as a level 2, Thomas could read the shard descriptions just fine.

They were just as flowery and misleading as he had come to expect.

Storm Summon Authority

Related chapter tags