By the time Antigone returned to their camp, Pel was fuming.

Antigone walked up the road, calm as can be, and stopped in front of Pel.

“Good evening.”

“Where have you been?” Pel asked.

“The market,” Antigone said with a small bounce.

“You can’t go to the market alone,” Pel said.

Antigone took Pel’s chin in her hand.

“Remarkably, I managed perfectly fine without your charming personality. It’s easier to find the actually powerful items when a heavily-armed mank isn’t glowering three feet away,” Antigone said.

“I don’t glower. I brood,” Pel said.

Antigone released her with an indulgent smile. “And you do so handsomely, my dear.”

Pel’s frown was deep, but it wasn’t about to deter Antigone’s good mood.

“Don’t you want to know what I found?” Antigone asked.

“No,” Pel said, crossing her arms.

“What did you fine?” Lark asked politely as she gently placed a bucket of water next to the fire.

Antigone turned to Lark, clapping her hands. “Purecut gems.”

Pel rolled her eyes. “You did not. You were scammed.”

“My darling Pel,” Antigone said, “I know purecut gems when I see them, and I am not an easy woman to trick.”

“Hard to scam a scammer,” Pel said.

Antigone ignored this. She pulled a small, velvet bag from her cloak pocket.

Lark cringed, taking half a step backwards. Antigone’s smile was forced. Pel had to assume there was some unpleasant illusion magic on it as a protection.

“C’mon,” Antigone said, “I’ll show you.”

Antigone carefully laid her scarf on the table in the camp’s main tent.

For once in her life, Pel was grateful that Damine was present.

“Richest guild leaders in Fiorna can’t get their hands on purecut these days,” Damine said. “You think you found some in this backwater?”

Antigone pulled a pair of silk gloves onto her hands. “We had an abundance, and then suddenly we had none. The gems have to have gone somewhere. Now, I don’t want to see any of you within five feet of these things without gloves.”

Antigone surveyed the trio with threatening cheer.

Then, she spilled the contents of the bag onto the scarf.

Pel’s breath caught in her chest. Half a dozen stones tumbled out— if they were purecut, then that’s a small fortune currently sitting on their crappy wooden table.

Three of the stones were opals, their colours shifting in the lamplight. One was large and greenish-blue— it was almost as big as Antigone’s heritage gem. Its face was smooth and intact. Opals were easy to break, but if you took your time with a puremined and purecut stone, then your magic would hold the gem together, creating a powerful, if often unpredictable, focus.

The fourth was a piece of clear quartz, about the size of Pel’s index finger. Each side of the prism looked to be nearly exactly the same size, and like the opals, the stone was uncracked.

The fifth and sixth were smooth, oval pieces of jade.

The value of those two alone could buy the entire town a hundred times over.

Pel reached for one.

Antigone slapped her hand away.

“Gloves!” she said.

“I’m the only person here who can’t contaminate them,” Pel said, holding her victim hand close to her chest.

“Yes, but your hands are dirty,” Antigone said.

“You know what, Tig—“

“Let’s put the hissy fit aside for now,” Damine said with a disapproving scowl. “We gotta pretty big question to answer. Where the hell did your merchant get these?”

“He wouldn’t say,” Antigone replied. “He’s probably gone by now. The only reason he sold them to me is that I promised not to ask questions.”

“Well I made no such promise,” Damine replied.