Chapter 23: “Down the Doghole”

The carriage rolled to a stop in a quiet corner of Summit’s merchant district, far from the well-lit main thoroughfares. Celestia stepped down onto the cobblestones, her masked face surveying the shadowed street ahead.

“Wait here,” she instructed the driver.

The man nodded once, pulling his cloak tighter against the evening chill.

Celestia walked alone into the narrow streets, her footsteps echoing softly against the stone walls. The buildings here were old, weathered, their facades worn smooth by decades of rain and wind. Laundry hung between windows overhead. A cat darted across her path and disappeared into the shadows.

She turned down an alleyway.

It was nondescript, like a dozen others she’d passed; wooden crates stacked against one wall. A discarded barrel tipped on its side. And there, set into the brick wall between two shuttered windows, was a wooden door.

This unfashionable door was one of many entrances to the underground auction.

Celestia had known about the existence of this auction from the original story, though the details had been frustratingly vague. After all, Arthur had never attended the underground auctions himself, and the information only came secondhand, mentioned in passing by a side character.

With the Reingarde House’s network and a few exchanges of gold, pinpointing the exact location had been easy.

She approached the door and raised her hand.

Knock… Knock, Knock… Knock… Knock.

Five times with varying pauses, as she was informed.

Celestia waited, her breath misting in the cold air. Then, from behind the door, came the sound of a bolt sliding free.

The door opened a crack and a man stood in the gap, his face completely obscured by a smooth, featureless white mask; a blank porcelain catching the dim light.

“Nox dormit sicut mane vivit,” Celestia said clearly.

The night sleeps as the morning lives.

According to Martha, that was today’s password. The phrase changed regularly, rotated through a list known only to those with connections deep enough to access the underground’s information network.

The masked man stepped aside without a word, gesturing for her to enter.

Celestia walked through the doorway.

The interior was pitch black. She could see nothing beyond the doorway, not even the outline of walls or floor. It was as though she’d stepped into a void.

Behind her, the door swung shut with a soft thud.

Darkness engulfed her completely.

“Just keep walking forward,” the masked man’s voice came from somewhere behind her, muffled and distant despite the confined space.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Her footsteps were the only sound in the pure, oppressive silence. She kept her pace steady, arms outstretched slightly to try and feel for walls, but she never really managed to touch them.

A minute passed. Then two.

It was one of the many barriers possible in this world, designed to disorient and confuse. The underground auction protected itself through layers of obfuscation. Even though she was walking in a straight line, the magic embedded in this passage was likely twisting her path, redirecting her steps along a route she didn’t know of.

Celestia continued forward, trusting that the path would eventually end.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Three minutes. Four.

The darkness remained unchanging, and she had no sense of how far she’d traveled or where she was going.

Then, without warning, light exploded into her vision.

Celestia’s eyes squeezed shut instinctively, her hand flying up to shield her face. The sudden brightness was like a physical blow after so long in the dark. When she finally lowered her hand and blinked her eyes open, she found herself standing in a completely different space.

The underground auction’s real entrance, and it was completely different from what she’d expected.

Instead of the gloomy, oppressive atmosphere she’d imagined, the establishment before her was bright and clean. Polished marble floors gleamed under crystal chandeliers, elegant furniture sat arranged in tasteful clusters near the walls, and rich carpets in deep burgundy and gold covered the floor.

Satisfied with the design they chose, she stepped forward onto the marble floor.

Almost immediately, a figure appeared from behind the reception desk. It was another person in a white faceless mask, this one shorter and broader than the man at the door. The voice that emerged from behind the mask was male, polite but impersonal.

“Welcome. The minimum entrance fee is 50 gold pieces.”

50 gold pieces. It was enough to feed an average commoner family for roughly 20 years. It was more money than most people in Summit would see in one place their entire lifetime.

And it was just the entrance fee.

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This was the bare minimum opulence required to even set foot inside.

Without hesitation, Celestia reached into the hidden pocket of her dress and withdrew a small leather pouch, different from the box she had prepared for the actual expenditures for the auction itself. She opened it and dumped out ten gold coins on the desk.

The masked man picked up one of the coins and examined it briefly, before depositing everything into a strongbox beneath the desk. After which, he rang a small silver bell and bowed.

From deeper within the building, another masked figure emerged. This one was slender, clearly female based on curves of her body. And just like the others, her face was completely hidden behind a smooth white mask.

The woman approached silently and gestured with one gloved hand, clearly asking for their client to follow.

They walked deeper into the auction house, down a hallway lined with dark wood paneling and more luxurious light fixtures, ones that used tower stones for power.

Along both sides of the hallway, Celestia could see doors. Dozens of them, each one identical, set at regular intervals, and it was clear that she wasn’t being directly led to the main auction hall.

Celestia quickly realized that this underground auction didn’t use the standard format, where bidders sat in rows of chairs facing a central stage. Instead, each door led to a private balcony room overlooking the auction floor. It gave complete privacy and no bidder would see another. It was brilliant, really. Perfect for the kind of clientele who frequented underground auctions, people who valued discretion above all else.

The masked woman stopped in front of door number 47. She opened it and gestured for Celestia to enter.

Celestia stepped inside.

The room was small but luxurious. A single high-backed chair faced a railing that overlooked the auction floor below.