Chapter One

  “The division of Orenthia’s heart ensured the power of the spirit stones could never be wielded by a single hand, be it god or mortal. To brandish one half is to forsake the other.”

  – Sealed correspondence uncovered by Magistra Saranna Featherstone of Her Grace’s Order of Radiance

  The Braddock Estate

  San Francisco, Earth

  7:30pm Local Time

  When Olivia’s manager had asked if she was willing to help cater on her day off, she’d leapt at the opportunity. Ordinarily, personal days were sacred. Much as she enjoyed what she did, she needed a break from the weddings, the graduations and those bullshit corporate parties upper management held in order to congratulate themselves and blow smoke up each others’ asses. She rarely made exceptions unless one of her close coworkers were sick or if an event was of particular interest to her.

  Tonight was both.

  If the rumors were to be believed, the private auction being held at the Braddock Estate was invitation only and perhaps, not entirely legal. It had been the talk of the Silver Brothers catering staff for weeks. In truth, Liv had been tempted to retract her personal day when the event had been announced, but with everyone else clamoring for the chance to attend, even as staff, her chances of being squeezed onto an already bloated schedule had been next to zero. So, she had accepted her fate and planned an extravagant night of her own binging Bridgerton and eating ice cream. Until of course, she’d received her manager’s text that morning. One of the other waitresses had fallen sick and Liv was first on the list of alternates.

  Of course she had said yes.

  She would have been a fool not to. Not only were the tips bound to be generous, but a formal masquerade ball was to be held before the night’s main event. Liv may not be able to participate in the dancing for herself, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t admire the dresses and the grandeur of the whole affair. Or marvel over whatever mysterious items were being sold tonight. The entire staff had been required to sign NDA’s upon arrival, so whatever they were, they had to be worthwhile. The shady undertone of it all made it all the more alluring, somehow.

  As part of the evening’s dress code, everyone, including the event staff, were required to wear masks at all times with no exceptions. They weren’t your typical run of the mill masquerade masks either, but elaborate facades more akin to art pieces than accessories. They were as much a fashion statement as they were a means of preserving one’s identity, for it was impossible to discern the upper half of anyone’s face. And that was if they weren’t wearing a full cover. The white fox masks the event staff had been provided were no exception either. Telling one waitress from another throughout the night had become more difficult than Liv had anticipated and she had to rely on the color, style and length of their hair in order to properly identify anyone.

  With her free hand, Liv discreetly tugged down the thigh-length skirt of her silver cocktail dress. It was a company staple, but here, she couldn’t help but feel out of place. The mansion hosting tonight’s event was not the usual bland, modern monstrosity of an airbnb she was accustomed to. Instead of sleek, yet uninspiring decor, everything here was warm and tasteful. She found herself in a living, breathing home fashioned after some Mediterranean villa.

  It was situated at the top of a lush hillside overlooking a private lake in prime wine country. Vineyards occupied the lower slopes, the stone brick of the storage and manufacturing houses serving to highlight the cozy, small-family operation feel. The damn estate even had its own botanical garden complete with ornate fountains and mosaic paths that led to hidden hollows amid the carefully manicured foliage.

  Music filled every corner of the mansion’s walls; a pleasant, clear arrangement given life by a live quartette rather than some half-baked DJ’s spotify playlist. It was a pleasant change of pace. She wouldn’t mind serving more classy affairs like these. She’d have to ask her manager, Eric, about similar events in the future.

  Until then, she squared her shoulders and focused on the task at hand. She negotiated the tables and crowd with a practiced ease and a professional smile. It was easy to lose herself in her work, to hold a smile that wasn’t forced, in a place like this. The guests were pleasant, the gowns exquisite and the dancing utterly entrancing to the eye.

  As the night wore on, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be swept up in the arms of some handsome stranger. Her cheeks flushed at the notion, though. She was a waitress, not the heroine of some wish-fulfilling period drama. Maybe it was time to switch up her to-watch list? Apparently, those damn regency shows were starting to mess with her priorities.

  Shaking her head, she made her way out to the main garden with a fresh round of champagne. The night air was crisp, refreshing and laced with the faintest scent of phlox and freshly cut grass. The break from the humidity inside made it easier for her to ignore her aching feet and the uncomfortable pitch in her lower back brought on by a pair of booted heels that were far more fashionable than they were functional.

  “Excuse me,” said a charming voice off to her left.

  Liv offered a polite, practiced smile as she pivoted on her heel.

  “Care for a drink?” She asked, offering her polished tray of crystalline glasses.

  “Please,” he said, offering her an easy smile from beneath his ornate mask.

  There was a certain lilt to his voice, an accent she couldn’t quite place. Given the number of apparent international guests in attendance tonight, he could be from just about anywhere in the world. A part of her envied him for that. She couldn’t help but wonder who he was to warrant such an exclusive invitation; what money he’d been born to that allowed him to come and go as he pleased.

  From what little she could see of his face, he appeared to be in his late twenties, tall, with a build that suggested he did far more than lounge about in some garden or office all day. His dark brown hair was a shade shy of black and worn loose around his ears in soft, feathering curls. Was he some fancy diplomat? The heir to some priceless fortune? Or was he just another CEO with too much time on his hands? Much as he matched the class and air of his fellow attendees, there was something about him she couldn’t discern. An otherness, perhaps? Whoever he was, she had the sense that he didn’t quite fit.

  Ultimately, she supposed it didn’t matter, though. To her, he was just another guest, one among hundreds who likely bore equally enthralling stories. She could speculate the nature of their exciting lives later.

  With a grin, she offered him his choice of the platter.

  “Enjoying the evening?” She asked, making casual conversation.

  “Quite. It’s been a rather charming affair, but I find myself eager for the main event, if I’m honest,” he said, making his selection.

  “You and everyone else,” she chuckled, “I myself am curious to see what all the fuss is about.”

  He smirked, dark blue eyes dancing in what might have been amusement, “They haven’t told you?”

  “I know there’s a private auction, but the specifics of what’s actually being sold has been a matter of debate,” she said.

  “I cannot say I’m entirely surprised. The items in question are of particular interest, shall we say?”

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Liv arched an eyebrow, not that he could see it beneath her mask. Particular could mean any number of things. Or it could mean nothing at all. For all she knew, he could be toying with her as a means of passing the time.

  “I imagine they’d have to be, considering the diversity of the clientele.”

  “You don’t know the half of it,” he chortled, then tipped his glass to her with the faintest of smiles before setting off down one of the adjacent paths.

  “What an enlightening conversation,” she muttered under her breath.

  With a soft sigh, she shoved down her disappointment. He didn’t exactly owe her any answers, but she had been hoping for something. When she had the chance, she’d have to ask the other girls if they’d learned anything interesting during their own passes.

  In the meantime, Liv saw to distributing the remainder of her drinks to those along the outskirts of the garden and dancefloor before returning to the kitchen for some small reprieve. Mercifully, the clients had been kind enough to set aside one of the drawing rooms to accommodate the servers while on break. They had also instructed the chefs to set aside some extra food and drink as well, which she was more than happy to take advantage of. It wasn’t often that the servers were spoiled while on duty and at the insistence of the hosts, no less. The fact they had paid extra to see to the welfare of the staff of the catering company they’d hired was generous, to say the least.

  However, she was careful not to overindulge. She was an employee of the night’s festivities, sure, but she was also a guest in this house. She had no intention of taking advantage of the owner’s hospitality. Not only would it be bad for business, but in her mind, it was common decency.

  Plate in hand, she made her way down the adjacent hall toward the designated breakroom, the door of which had been left open. The other four lining the hall were, presumably, locked with so many guests about. Liv couldn’t blame them. She wasn’t one for snooping, but she could only imagine what some of those rooms held. She’d heard gossip around the ballroom about a private museum in the home as well, which for some reason, wasn’t entirely surprising. The rich often had more than the essentials in their homes. In a mansion like this, a private library or museum was far more fitting than a VR or laser tag room.

  For a time, Liv had little beyond her imagination to keep her company while she ate. Per usual, their phones had been collected beforehand, so doom scrolling wasn’t an option. Not that she minded. There was plenty to look at even in this one room: inlaid bookshelves, backlit figurines and paintings that were originals instead of prints. The owners certainly had a taste for authenticity.

  She’d opted to sit on the floor beside the coffee table in order to stretch her legs. Inviting as the sofas and armchairs were, they were also a touch intimidating. The last thing she needed was to spill something all over the expensive leather upholstery. She wasn’t sure she’d ever financially recover if she had to replace so much as a single piece of furniture.

  When one of the other servers, Elena, peeked into the room, Liv gave a start and stubbed her toe on the leg of the table.

  “Ow! Shit–”

  Elena grimaced and offered an apologetic smile, “Sorry!”

  Massaging her throbbing pinky toe, Liv shook her head and fixed how her mask rested along her cheekbones, “It’s fine. What’s up?”

  “Have you seen Michelle? She came back here about an hour ago, but I haven’t seen her around since.”

  “Is she out in the garden?”

  She shook her head, “I had some of the other girls check while they were making their rounds, but no one’s been able to find her.”

  Liv pursed her lips, “Want me to go look for her? My break is almost over, anyway.”

  “There’s no rush,” she assured, “but if you can keep an eye out for her, that’d be great.”

  “I will. Are you sure she didn’t just run off with one of the guests?”

  There were a few who had caught her own eye now and again, if she were being honest. The difference being, she wasn’t fool enough to pursue anyone or entertain any advances. Not here. It was unprofessional.

  Elena scowled, “If she did, I’ll make sure Eric fires her. We can’t go sleeping around on duty. We’re servers, not escorts.”

  “You and I both. I’ll see if I can find her before I head back out.”

  “You’re the best!”

  “Yeah, yeah. Now shoo. I still have five minutes left before I have to put those damn heels back on,” Liv said, waving an idle hand.

  Elena withdrew with a half chuckle and a shake of her head.

  Rubbing her temple, Liv sighed through her nose. Leave it to Michelle to ruin the evening. It wasn’t exactly the first time she’d snuck away to lock lips with some new lover while on duty. During the last gala they had catered, she’d seen enough of the woman’s skin to last a lifetime. The only reason Liv had agreed to keep the affair a secret in the first place was to preserve the face of the company. That and she’d been too flustered to fully process what she’d walked in on.

  This time, she wouldn’t be so forgiving.

  Liv didn’t exactly look forward to catching her canoodling a second time, but she’d do what she had to. With luck, the wayward girl was just in another wing doing her job, but after the last time, Liv wouldn’t hold her breath. She only hoped one bad apple wouldn’t be enough to sour relations with the client beyond repair.

  Stupid girl, she thought.

  After returning her dishes to the kitchen, she decided to begin her search down the surrounding halls. She padded, barefoot, down the ornate tile with her heels in her offhand. She didn’t want to announce her presence and with those damned shoes, anyone sneaking about would hear her coming a mile away. Every so often, she stopped to listen, straining for the smallest of sounds whether they be the tell tale moans of a stolen moment or the quick footsteps of a house butler.

  If she were caught, she supposed there would be no point in lying if confronted: she was looking for an associate. Simple. She might need to add a little white lie or two if prompted too far, but she’d prefer to avoid such a situation altogether. No good ever came from being caught sneaking around in the dark.

  Halfway down the corridor, she made out a faint scuffling beyond a set of large double doors at the opposite end. One of them had been left ajar, leaving a sliver of amber light amid the otherwise darkened hall. Liv hesitated, debating just how far she was willing to go to catch Michelle in the act. She felt dirty, somehow. Wrong. Not for hunting down the rogue waitress, but for prowling around in a mansion where she didn’t belong.

  Another shuffle sounded, this time accompanied by a distant, yet familiar giggle. Her mood immediately soured. Of course the woman was up to no good. Steeling herself, Liv crept toward the door. However, when she stepped inside, she paused.

  With its rich warm woods and ornate display cases, the grand chamber she found herself in had to be the museum she’d heard the guests murmuring about before. The entire space rivaled the ballroom in size, its walls lined with carefully arranged books and cases of all sorts. There were scrolls and tablets and suits of armor, ceramics and weapons and gems. There was even a full fossilized skeleton of some carnivorous dinosaur she’d never seen before.

  It was incredible.

  What piqued her curiosity most, though, was the arrangement near the hearth. Twelve pedestals flanked either side of the stone fireplace and the auction dias set before it. The items upon them ranged from pottery to sculptures and precious gems, though some were obscured by the high top tables in front of them. This must be where the auction was to take place. It made sense, for it was the perfect location.

  One of the guests must have talked Michelle into a sneak-peek before anyone else. The only question was: where were they hiding? The museum was utterly silent beyond the occasional crackle of wood in the low-burning hearth. Hesitantly, Liv ventured further in. She moved as quickly and as quietly as she could, peering around cases and behind the occasional curtain, but there was no one.

  She’d heard someone in here, she was sure of it. Where on earth could they have gone? The only other door she could see was at the far end nearest the hearth. It was closed, yet there was every possibility that Michelle and her companion had already slipped through. Was she really willing to follow them and risk being caught herself?

  Just a little further, she decided.

  She would find the woman and then they would sneak back to the ballroom before anyone was the wiser. She’d send her back to work and worry about scolding her later. All they had to do was finish out the night without incident.

  A sense of unease rose in her chest as she made her way toward the pedestals and their many artifacts. It's only anxiety, she told herself. The sooner she accomplished her task, the sooner she could leave. She’d feel better once she did.

  A soft, violet light twinkled along the periphery of her vision.

  At first, she didn’t think anything of it, but then a soft womp brought her up short. The accompanying ripple of what she could only describe as energy sent a shiver up her spine. Was it a camera? A hidden laser system of some sort? Had she been caught?

  She straightened, only to realize the oddity had come from one of the pedestals she’d passed. Upon it, sat a single, large crystal the length of her hand from wrist to fingertip. The elaborate gold stand the double terminated quartz rested upon highlighted the strange, almost runic script inlaid along the outer facets of the stone. Beautiful as it was, it wasn’t the purity of the gem that had caught her eye, but rather the fact it was glowing with an inner light.

  Womp.

  Energy pulsed again, momentarily distorting the air. The longer Liv stared, the more she felt herself drawn to the curious stone. Thought disappeared, her reason for coming here forgotten. There was nothing beyond the crystal. The pulsing of its light began to quicken at her approach, beating in time with what some distant part of her realized was her heartbeat. Its golden runes flared to life and when she reached to touch it, her world disappeared.